Quests & Challenges

[center][b]Day 31[/b] [item=Haunting Houndskull][/center] The following morning, Zylen had decided to forgo his continued work on cataloguing the library’s collection of books. With what happened to Clancy, his encounter in the graveyard, Eowyn going missing, and now what transpired yesterday, he couldn’t waste the time. He needed answers of [i]some[/i] kind, preferably before anyone else got hurt. So, he wrote down a few new notes in his office, and after a light lunch, he traveled to the archives. If anywhere had answers, it was there with Elanor and Jeremiah. The Tundra welcomed his help with open arms and a pleasant smile, “Zylen! It’s always a pleasure to see you. What brings you in today?” “Exactly what you’d expect.” He held up his notes, “I’m working on these.” “Still shaken up from yesterday?” A brisk nod, “I’m [i]really[/i] not liking how dragons I don’t even see know who I am. I’m sure Jeremiah isn’t enjoying it either.” “He certainly isn’t taking it well,” she gestured over to the Banescale, who was rummaging through messy piles of paper, “He knocked over four boxes in frustration earlier. He’s been reorganizing everything since.” “Has he found anything useful? Or you for that matter?” “Before I answer that, you want some tea? If we’re going to be talking like this, it’s best done in comfort.” Elanor looked at Zylen gently. The furred dragon always had the best interests of those around her in mind. It was something the Fae enjoyed about being around her. He caved, “Tea sounds lovely.” Taking conversation to Elanor’s office, the two continued conversation there, a member of staff coming by with the requested tea soon after. As Elanor spooned sugar and poured cream into her cup, she answered the question posed to her earlier, “In regards to what you had me look into before you left yesterday, no. I tried comparing the symbols you brought back with the one that you obtained from Clancy, but they don’t appear connected.” Zylen let out a sigh, frills lowering in disappointment, “Another dead end then.” “For now, at least,” Elanor’s smile widened some, “I [i]did[/i] find something else. The name of your predecessor, as well as more of Darryn’s writing.” “[i]How?[/i]” Zylen was bewildered by the second statement, “One of the first things I did for this was look for his work. You’ve seen the gap where it should be yourself.” “And yet you’ve still been able to recover some yourself, correct?” Elanor challenged. “Yeah, scattered on the floor and on nearby boxes. I still have no idea how I got my hands on the maps I own, but they were likely tossed among some others.” The Tundra sighed, “Well, looks like he’s scrambled whatever he didn’t hide away. Found these among documents from over fifty years ago.” She handed over a small stack of papers, “I think you’ll find them interesting.” Zylen took a sip from his mug, eyeing the hastily scrawled writing briefly before looking back at the archivist, “Before I do, care to name the prior librarian? I’ve been curious for a while, but their name’s eluded me.” “And for good reason,” she pulled out a single sheet of paper this time, “Iris Torrent. This is all I’ve found in regards to her so far.” As the Fae took and read through the former librarian’s writing, he began to see why he hadn’t seen much. The writing was shaky, suggesting old age or some sort of medical condition. The writing besides that belonged to that of either a Guardian or Gaoler based on the size of the words, but distinguishing which was hard to make out as telling the two apart were often in smaller details. The note itself regarded a strange new book that had been acquired. While no title or author was provided, Iris described the book as skeletonizing a dragon through rapid decay. The note ended in a vague warning addressed to Darryn about what he was currently looking into, and that the book had been “put in its place”, whatever that meant. He looked up as he finished, “I wish I knew more about her.” “I do as well. Unlike Darryn, it looks like she wasn’t so eager about what she was discovering,” Elanor took back the paper from him, carefully filing it away in a nearby drawer. “Reminds me of Clancy,” Zylen half-joked, raising his fans. “She may be willing to help, but she by no means wants to get directly involved.” The Tundra frowned, worry in her eyes, “Speaking of Clancy, how’s she holding up? I heard about her condition and, well, it has to be hard losing functionality like that.” “She’s lost most use of her left arm despite the staff’s best efforts. She’s shown some weak movement, but I doubt she’ll be carrying anything anytime soon. Same with using her claws.” Zylen’s fans lowered, “I’m happy she didn’t lose use of the claws she writes with. I’d certainly be at a loss if I suddenly lost the ability to write.” “I think anyone would be. If you see her before I do, tell her I wish her a safe recovery.” “I will,” Zylen shook the stack of notes handed to him, “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some light reading to do.” The Tundra rose from her seat, her calm smile returning, “I thought you hated reading.” “I don’t like a [i]lot[/i] of reading. Try to limit myself. I’m finding I don’t have much of a choice as of late.” He sighed, deciding to voice a doubt on his mind, “Do you think we should continue to trust Saile? I mean, it’s not like we don’t have a choice in following what he asks of us, but lately I can’t help but wonder if we're all doing this and getting hurt so he doesn’t have to.” Elanor looked away, smile disappearing as she got lost in thought. After a moment, she looked back up, expression unchanged, “I don’t think he knows what he’s been sending us into. I mean, he only wants us to investigate strange areas he finds interesting based on information he gets from the institute he works for. I mean, think about your encounter yesterday. What did you think you were going to find?” He sighed, “I suppose you’re right. I didn’t expect a maze that would probably set me on fire if I tried to “cheat” it. Anyways,” straightening the stack of notes, he began to dismiss the Tundra, “I should get to this. I’ll let you know what I think when I’m done.” “Sounds good!” Elanor beamed, starting towards the door, “I’ll be in archive storage room 3B when you finish. I found an interesting collection of testimonies to an event there, and I’m hoping it may relate to this work of ours.” “Well, you know where I’ll be,” waving farewell, Zylen got to work on the notes, separating them into the individual reports and personal writings. The first thing he noted was how early the notes were. All of them were written within the first year of Darryn’s employment, and based on the quality of the paper, he wasn’t an organized dragon. Covered in crinkles, splotches of ink, and stains from either tea or coffee, it was clear some had sat around on a desk for some time before being archived. Having only seen Darryn’s writing from years after being employed, the Fae didn’t believe that the Skydancer was ever this sloppy. The notes themselves appeared to be job reports similar to the ones Zylen had been writing. Darryn wrote on what others had experienced on tasks they had been sent on, writing his personal comments in the margins. Zylen assumed these to be rough drafts, similar to what he did, although he kept his opinions on separate sheets of paper. Outside of some strange details not dissimilar to the ones Zylen found himself regularly writing about, only two papers stood out to him. The first was a personal journal entry, torn out of the notebook it was held in. Among the two and a half pages of notes, almost all of it was Darryn writing about his suspicions regarding the mansion. He had accidentally stumbled across a secret room while casting a spell on a bookshelf to locate a volume that caught his interest, and ever since, he’d been seeing if he could find any other strange rooms. The staff seemed to actively oppose his searches, as did a few of his coworkers, under the premise that maybe the rooms were hidden in a way that only Saile would know about them. Which led to the second paper. It was hastily written, but covered a visit from professor Saile himself. The Skydancer had been excited about seeing the professor, but in the end only briefly spotted him talking with the librarian, who Zylen assumed to be Iris. Much to the Fae’s surprise, the archivist described Saile as a Pearlcatcher, not a Skydancer or Wildclaw as he assumed. Perhaps he was taught to have a similar style to one? There wasn’t much more to the notes after that, Darryn failing to elaborate further on Saile’s appearance and not getting the opportunity to talk beyond introductions. Elanor was right, there wasn’t much here, but what he did read was certainly interesting. Not much to go on, but he had a new lead now. If he didn’t have to leave on the next assigned task, he’d tackle it tomorrow. Somewhere, there was a secret room near a bookshelf, and it was activated with magic in some form. He only hoped that it wasn’t elementally aligned, otherwise he’d be waiting a while. Darryn was a Light dragon, and if Saile was hiding anything mysterious behind elemental barriers, the solution was simple. Don’t hire Light dragons. ------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I lost the entirety of what I had planned for the second half of this out of nowhere, so I'm sorry if it's kinda meh. I was planning to have some new thing for Zylen to look into come up, but I lost my initial idea. So instead I'm going to have him just magic some bookshelves until he goes mad I guess. Also, will do more with Iris eventually. She really is a lot like Clancy with how I picture her so far. Tomorrow is a new job day as well! I'm excited to see what I roll up this time. Sorry for a lack of commentary today. I'm still kinda aaaaaaaaaa from when my brain threw itself out the window earlier.

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
Sorry for absolutely nothing from me yesterday. I was preparing to write when a headache came on and then my body wanted to crash. Doing much better this morning and hope it continues through work so I can write. Still sore but it’s not like I can easily do anything about that.

[center][b]Day 32[/b] [item=Cobalt Glazed Vase] [b]Warnings: Gore/blood mention, abandonment, isolation, helplessness[/b][/center] Eowyn had been found early that morning. Zylen didn’t know the details, but the Coatl had been recovered from the portal room, covered in injuries and barely conscious. She’d been in the infirmary since, with little word on her condition. Even Clancy, with her daily checkup on her shoulder, was in the dark, only able to tell the Fae and the others that Eowyn was hidden behind curtains with half a dozen staff running to and fro. By the time lunch rolled around, a member had gathered everyone to inform them that she would live, but that they could only do so much. Saile had yet to hire a proper doctor, so the best they could do was disinfect the wounds and stitch up the ones they could. Halfway through lunch, Saile’s newest task arrived. Zylen wasn’t surprised to hear his and Jeremiah’s name read off as the ones to investigate a decorative stone pillar in the Molten Scar. With Eowyn now unable to do much, it was up to him and Jeremiah to do most of the investigative work for the professor. At least the task was simpler. The pillar itself wasn’t what the two were sent to investigate, but rather an object that had been placed on it. The object wasn’t known, but reports from locals suggested it was anomalous in some fashion. The two were to retrieve the object and send it off to the institute for study. Being assigned to the job wasn’t the most relieving thing for the Fae, but it was something to keep his mind off of Eowyn. Knowing the Coatl, she’d be very reluctant to tell him anything about her disappearance after recovery. And that was taking things optimistically. Yet he needed to report the injuries to Saile, as well as how they were caused. He wouldn’t be surprised if such an event led to the Coatl being moved out if the injuries were as extensive as they sounded. If she didn’t leave of her own will. “Guess we’re headed to Ironclaw Forge,” Jeremiah greeted Zylen, looking through the tome placed on the pedestal. “What are your thoughts?” Zylen eyed the dried blood trailing from the base of the portal, “My thoughts are that you’re doing your best to avoid talking about the obvious.” The Banescale sighed, “Got me there. There’s a [i]lot[/i], and it doesn’t make me feel any better about Eowyn.” “Let’s focus on the mission. No amount of worrying will make her better faster.” He pulled attention to the portal, beginning to set it up, “Mind activating it for me?” “Of course.” -------- The forge was located away from the portal. The structure of the portal itself had been damaged extensively in the past, renovations comprising almost half of ring structure. Jeremiah and Zylen were both welcomed as visitors by guards posted nearby, the greeting a rather warm one from what they had grown used to. After some questioning, Zylen learned that the forge did have a partnership of sorts with the institution, but a recent one. The relationship was largely based in mutual friendship, with dragons working the forge commonly becoming friends thanks to the portal. When prying about what the two parties exchanged, the guards were unable to say. Neither worked the forge themselves, and most institution members that used the portal weren’t involved in their part of the deal either. They believed it to be something small due to their relationship not being based in commerce or trade of any kind, but there were always rumors about secret projects. Talking with other guards only revealed more support against those rumors, as on the rare instance that someone involved with those deals showed up, they were more than happy to chat about some of the details. Zylen was happy for the information, and he enjoyed talking so extensively with those from another location without silent tension. However, he and Jeremiah had something to take care of, and after some quick directions and cheerful goodbyes, the two were off. Traveling through Fire territory got boring [i]fast[/i]. While there was some vegetation present in the form of tough shrubs and coarse grasses, most trees had long died, whether from the dry conditions or having caught fire at one point. The rest of the landscape was covered in lava floes and the rock it left behind, with dragons having made bridges across larger ones for those that couldn’t fly. Life wasn’t abundant out here, leaving the two to theorize that clans survived by growing their own food one way or another. At least, for those closer to the Great Furnace like they were currently. With such repetitive scenery, Zylen didn’t catch that something was off initially. He expected the journey to drag once the landscape became the same pattern of lava floes with patches of life between them, but the two had been told that the pillar they were after wasn’t all that far. A check of the time on a pocket watch Jeremiah carried around soon revealed they had been alternating between flight and walking for two hours past how long the trip was meant to take. And with that, the Fae’s stomach sank. It had been a [i]while[/i] since he had thought about his trip into Wind. Other than for Rachael making herself known, nothing of importance came with the task. Thinking back now, he recalled the area they walked taking a while to traverse, but Wind was as well known for the expanses of plains it housed. Perhaps they were lost? “Hey Zylen, am I hallucinating or is that a Skydancer I’m seeing?” As the Fae followed the gaze of his ally, the distant form of a dragon moving about in the sky was unmistakable, and, as he focused, drawing closer to the pair. It was as if his very thoughts about Rachael had summoned her, and he had very little time to warn Jeremiah. “Y-Yes, but it’s not someone we want to mess with.” Looking between Zylen and the approaching Skydancer in confusion, Jeremiah blurted, “Wait, you know this dragon? From where?” “A past task,” Zylen did his best to keep his fans raised despite the fear welling up within him, “Let me handle her when she gets here.” “Wait why?” “No time to explain now. Maybe later.” Jeremiah opened his mouth again to protest, but by then, Rachael had arrived, gracefully hovering above the two instead of landing. An all too familiar smile followed her greeting, “Well am I surprised to see [i]you[/i] again! How goes your meaningless task?” “None of your business Rachael. Now, tell…” There was mild irritation in her voice as she interrupted, “Enough of that. You’ll sound too much like Saile if you continue like that.” She adjusted her position to imitate laying down, “It pleases me greatly that you’ve made as much insignificant progress as I guessed you would.” She let out a chuckle as Zylen’s fans quivered some, “If Darryn hadn’t gone off the deep end before he disappeared, I’m sure you’d have so much more by now. But you don’t, and now I get to watch you [i]squirm[/i].” The leer Zylen’s gaze met sent shivers down his spine and filled his chest with dread. Still, he dared to continue confronting the Skydancer, fans adjusting to match, “If you’re here to fight, I’ll have you know you’re not the first and you’ll be far from the last.” Rachael stifled a laugh as the Fae finished, “Now where is the fun in fighting you now? Surely you don’t desire that pathetic death by my claws with so much useless work left to do.” The malicious grin returned as the Skydancer maneuvered herself once again, facing upside down, “No, I’m not here to fight. But I [i]am[/i] here on behalf of another you have fought.” New anger boiled inside Zylen, “What do you have to do with the Hollands?” he demanded, fans splayed out aggressively. “Ah so the little librarian is able to make pointless connections,” she flipped herself over, resting a claw on one of her cheeks. Her grin widened, “It’s not that hard to know one of the Hollands. However, I [i]do[/i] owe them a favor. That little professor of yours took a book that is better off in their hands. Since it’s too late for them to take it back, I’m after this little relic on their behalf instead.” She shrugged, “Not that I care about your trivial squabbles.” “You think you can stop us from getting there with a small trick like this?” Zylen called upon his magic, preparing to strike. Instead of intimidating Rachael, all he did was amuse her further, “Oh I haven’t heard an ironic insult like [i]that[/i] since Darryn’s time. And you even tried to back up your empty words with magic. How quaint.” For once she moved into a position that appeared aggressive rather than playful, “You see,” she grinned wide, eyes as mad as they were malicious, “You’re already in my trap.” In the blink of an eye, Zylen found…nothing different. He, Jeremiah, and Rachael were still there, although the Banescale’s expression was quickly overcome with fear. “Is that your big trick?” he jeered, expecting a reaction from the Skydancer. Only he watched nothing happen. And as Jeremiah opened his mouth and began to speak, Zylen began to feel fear rise in him. He couldn’t hear a single sound from the Ancient’s mouth, and as Rachael answered whatever he had said, the Fae realized that while he should be able to read their lips, he couldn’t. Something was preventing him from interpreting what was being said. The next logical step was to attempt to physically interact, which he did with trying to comfort his companion. Instead of landing on the durable scales of the Banescale, Zylen’s claw phased right through. And he knew it was him and not Jeremiah. He didn’t know how other than the fact he couldn’t see his claw through the Banescale’s body, but right now, he was separate from the other two interacting with each other. Feeling helplessness rise now, he attempted to combat it with anger, aiming a bolt of magic at Rachael. Certain his magic would remain unaffected, his heart dropped as he watched the attack phase through her like his claws. Then he watched the two disappear in a swirl of black smoke. He didn’t see it begin to creep in. Thick and choking like the clouds of ash thrown into the air by the volcanos he had seen in the distance. It began to envelop the space around him, as if called upon by an unseen attacker. He thought a Holland would be responsible, but he’d only seen mist from the family, and they were strictly Ice-born. Fire was the antithesis for what their magic handled. In a panic, he darted in a random direction, hoping to escape somewhere far enough to where the smoke couldn’t reach. Only it appeared that no matter how far he fled, it was there, filling his lungs. It became harder and harder to breathe, and eventually exhausting him to where he could no longer press forward. He looked around for any break in the smoke, but only found he could see himself. And, as it appeared, not for much longer as he watched it slowly begin to consume his body. It wasn’t painful, but instead felt as if that part of him had disappeared, gone forever. Zylen had almost given up on resisting when he felt something pull at him. Taking any chance to escape whatever caused the smoke prison, he reached into his bag, feeling for whatever caused the sensation. He didn’t hesitate to grab the ring as he felt it, struggling to slip it on as his vision began to swim. In an instant, his sight cleared, but instead of dark grey smoke, he was seeing the archives, an open, half-empty box on a desk in front of him. The scene remained only for a moment before he blacked out. The next time he would wake was that night. And this time in one of the infirmary beds. -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge I got this out! Thank you Pinkerton for [s]blessing[/s] cursing me with back-to-back trinkets so that my crazy rolls from yesterday didn't go to waste. First, it may be hard to tell, but Eowyn was critically marked by [i]the Slaughter[/i] of all fears. This is actually the worst possible outcome for her physically, so you guys won't be seeing much of her for a couple more days. When she does come back she will definitely have something to say. Second, by some miracle I rolled the Lonely as the trinket fear [i]and[/i] Zylen was the target. So, he's also double marked by a fear now, and the first to get one in a form that isn't a critical mark. Seriously, I know you're the focal character right now, but that doesn't mean you have to do this to my rolls. My last roll was the Vast for the mission, so we get to see more from Rachael! This time she's here to ruin the task and have fun while doing so. Jeremiah wasn't scarred enough from the encounter to get marked, but he probably got close. He's a dragon to stand his ground in the face of danger, so while he was certainly scared, he didn't let Rachael get to him [i]too[/i] badly. I look forward to more writing tomorrow! I'm excited to reveal a couple little things, plus it's a day off, so that means free time for the crew. It's a good thing for Zylen as well, since it means he has a chance to recover a little.

[center][b]Day 33[/b] [item=Flatlands Tiara][/center] “And I’m telling you, I demand to see Elanor!” Zylen had been fighting back and forth with the staff all morning. He didn’t care about his condition and the fact his memories of the last couple days were largely a blur. Outside of difficulty focusing, he felt fine, and they even informed him that his condition was good enough that he’d be able to leave now. However, they wanted him to rest, which meant forcing him to stay put until dinner. That also apparently meant no visitors, despite Eowyn still being kept separate and hidden from his view. “What’s so important that you can’t wait to see her? You’ll see her at dinner and the two of you can talk then. You need to rest.” Zylen huffed, “And you think I [i]won’t [/i]be resting when she comes by to visit me [i]here[/i]?” He removed what was now his third replacement pair of glasses in frustration, placing his free claw over his face. “Look, I promise I won’t ask for anyone else. I just need to talk to Elanor about this while it’s on my mind and can focus. I don’t know if I’ll remember later.” Having enough, the Spiral caring for him let out a defeated sigh, “Fine, but if I find you’ve snuck out of here, I’m confining you for another day. Understand? I don’t care how good your condition is.” As they turned to leave, the Fae spoke up again, “Can you bring back some tea? Elanor prefers having some for conversations like this.” He didn’t have to wait long. After a couple minutes, the Tundra calmly walked into the room, finding his bed. A carefully-balanced tray was wrapped around her neck, a teapot, sugar, and cream placed upon it. Placing everything on the table beside him, Elanor then reached for the teacups she kept on her almost constantly, putting them aside the tea. “I heard from Vicky that you’re being a bit stubborn. Sounds about right for you.” Zylen caught the concern in her eyes as she began to pour tea for them both, “Go on, say it.” Elanor took the invitation to ask, “What happened to your scales?” He shrugged, “According to the staff, their best guess is magical bleaching. Better than, well,” he gestured to where Eowyn rested, “With how Rachael is, both Jeremiah and I might have ended up gravely injured.” “Jerry already told me about what happened from his end. We can discuss your side of things later. What did you call me here for?” “Wait a second. [i]Jerry?[/i]” Zylen cocked his head, “Since when did you start calling him that?” The Tundra let out a lighthearted laugh, “Oh that? He [i]hates[/i] it. Something about how he takes great pride in his name or something like that. I forget.” She shrugged, “When I need his attention I call him Jerry. Guess I said it out of habit.” “Oh, alright. Anyways,” he lowered his fans as nerves began to get to him, “After what happened yesterday, I decided I need to let [i]someone[/i] know who I am.” “I mean, don’t the others know you enough?” Elanor inquired, “Unless….?” The look of fear attempting to hide in Elanor’s eyes told him she was on the same train of thought, “Unless I am to die here.” He paused, searching for his next words, “I’m not exactly well-known, and that’s something I did on purpose.” The Tundra was lost now, “I don’t understand. What are you implying here?” “Okay, let’s see if this might be familiar to you. Have you read anything on a certain cult known as The Blameless? There’s bound to be a paper or two in your archives, and I’ve certainly found them in library texts.” There was familiarity now, “Yeah, the name sounds familiar. A cult from the Tangled Wood that focuses on false innocence I believe? What does this….oh.” “I was raised in a branch of The Blameless. I was never given a name as those were what get you caught. You get cast out and a name branded on you if that ever happens. Not that it ever happened to me.” “...How did you get out?” Zylen swallowed as he had to admit the hardest part of all of this, “The dragon whose name I stole. I had run off and they took me in. Helped me get accustomed to the world outside the cult for [i]years[/i]. And how did I repay them?” He found himself instinctively shrinking away from the Tundra in shame, “With [i]murder[/i].” He shakily sipped the tea in his claws, largely ignoring the fact it was sweet rather than the bitter he was used to. Instead, his attention was on Elanor and her growing worry and fear, “I killed that dragon with no remorse because I was taking the way out I was raised on. You either get a name out of shame or out of violence. If you still have no name when you murder and you can take their name. So when I took the Zylen Myst who raised me like his own son, I took his name as well.” “Does it….?” Elanor began, only for the Fae to cut her off. “Not as much as it used to. The guilt never goes away, but over the years it’s lessened. Once you kill that feeling never goes away, but I promise I’ll never come close to that sort of action again. I discarded my beliefs when I discarded that identity.” “B-But why tell me [i]this?[/i] And why [i]now?[/i]” Elanor blurted out, loud enough to echo through the room. “Because if I [i]do[/i] die, I want it to be written down that I wasn’t an innocent dragon. Too many of us ‘Nameless Blameless’ go without getting caught, and even fewer wish to spill what they know. I don’t want to be another of those.” He looked up from his cup to stare at the Tundra directly, “You bring in your writing supplies?” His words were met with a slow nod, the Tundra pulled out a journal and a pen, “Always have them on me. Tell me when and I’ll start.” Slowly but surely, the two worked through everything Zylen could remember. At times he had to pause to recollect his thoughts, and when memory failed him, they switched to talking about the pieces he held from yesterday. Staff interrupted them a couple times to bring him lunch and double-check on how he was doing, but for the most part they had respected his wishes. It was a cleansing experience to have his past out on paper, and Elanor’s demeanor made it far more calming. When they finished, Elanor gathered up the mostly empty teapot and the rest of the dishes to be carried out, casting sympathy on him, “If you ever feel the urge to talk like this again, let me know. My door is always open for you.” Like that, the Tundra left, and Zylen relaxed. Only for Eowyn’s voice, strained and quiet, to break the silence, “I know you’re there.” The Fae opened his mouth to speak, only to have the action predicted, “Don’t bother speaking.” He could pick up on her raspy breaths as she laboured through her words, serving as a reminder of how badly she was injured. “Just listen.” The stillness in the air carried on for an uncomfortably long time, with only the sounds of Eowyn’s struggling breaths cutting through. At first, he thought the Coatl had fallen unconscious again, but as he heard her body adjust followed by a short cry of pain, the assumption was proven untrue. An equally painful sounding cough followed, and then he heard her speak up once more. “I want in. I’m not [i]dying[/i] without knowing.” -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge Surprise! Zylen's got Poison now and Eowyn's finally agreeing to what Zylen's doing, even if it's been spawned by getting beat up within an inch of her life. Also, if you look at Zylen and Elanor, they've got the rings on! If you're wondering how Elanor is wearing hers, she went and got it resized. Hooray for eyeball rings. Kinda glad I rolled nothing today. As much as I love marks, I wanted to info dump today and I didn't want to have to write a nightmare sequence on top of this. As for the important lore thing, Zylen backstory unlocked! Zylen was part of a cult known as The Blameless! I could definitely go into more detail about this cult, but what's important is Zylen killed someone in order to "earn" his name, and before that, he had none. At most he went by aliases and codenames when communicating with others, regularly switching them up to not become attached. Turns out when you feel like you about died and that this won't be the last time you want to get this sort of thing out. Other fun facts to come with this: Part of getting good at getting away with crimes is being able to read others and feign emotions. It's the [i]real[/i] reason Zylen is good when it comes to interpreting what he sees in others as well as his control over his fans. When he formally cut himself free of the cult, he did his best to pick up on displaying emotions so he wouldn't be someone that others found hard to trust. I'm probably still missing out on details I wanted to put here, but whatever. I can probably ask questions as they're asked. If the answer ends up being spoilery for any reason, I'll probably answer what I can before mentioning spoilers being involved.

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
Doing this in advance before I try and fail, but no post today. I'm feeling drained and overall not very well despite today being my "easy" day. On top of that I had my social battery depleted so I'm not in a mood to socialize either. If I do anything creative tonight it's probably sketching instead of writing. Hopefully I'll be feeling more up to writing tomorrow.

[center][b]Day 34[/b] [item=Noggle][/center] It was another day of rest for Zylen and the rest of the mansion. Saile even sent a letter out that morning solidifying his decision. He apologized for his more recent tasks resulting in such serious and extensive injuries, and assured that were not his intentions for them. He promised the next tasks would be far more mundane, and hopefully taking place around others to prevent further incidents. With luck he’d have one sent out the following day so they wouldn’t remain cooped up without anything to do. Not that Zylen had nothing to do. Feeling better from the day before, he continued his work as usual. He went back and forth between the growing catalogue of books and checking up with Elanor and her progress on the archive’s many, [i]many[/i] files. On occasion, he’d come bearing his own good news, often a book he felt would become useful in the future. This time it was a book on wards and how to create them, located in the middle of romance novels of all places. Given its importance to him, he found an empty case to place it in, deciding to start a personal collection. What he spent a large portion of the day doing wasn’t important to him however. On any breaks he took, he began looking for that bookshelf Darryn had mentioned having a magical switch attached to it. In this process, Zylen realized that this was where the mansion’s magazines and outdated encyclopedias, thesauruses, and dictionaries had gone. They filled what would otherwise be empty shelves, with decorative elements thrown in, and the occasional duplicate book the library already housed to break the monotony of the setup. The problem that came with this was remembering which sets of shelves he had already examined. He was never great about small details in environments. Between the repetitive books and their bland spines, and the uninteresting ornaments used to fill the negative space, Zylen’s only indicators were any duplicate books on the shelves. It took longer, but he at least knew how to keep track of those thanks to experience. He didn’t expect to be met with a strange magical pressure early on in his search. At first he believed he found what Darryn was talking about, but when he attempted to reveal or remove this pressure, it stayed strong despite his best efforts. He also searched for anything akin to a switch like the one in his room, also with no luck. Unable to take care of it now, he wasted no time jotting down where he found this, making notes about what might break it open later. In the middle of one of his searches, a voice called out to him. The voice was low and quiet, and filled with an eerie coldness, “Excuse me, but can you guide me to the basement?” [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/805676672950992896/66572881_350.png[/img] Zylen whipped around at the stranger’s voice, ready to strike out. He nearly did when he found himself uncomfortably close to the face of a Spiral. Their red eyes made his stomach drop at first, but when they moved back in alarm, he was filled with relief. Despite their unnerving appearance, they were a merely new hire, “Didn’t you wait at the entrance for a member of staff to pick you up?” “Yes,” he spoke again, “But I’m afraid I’m not very patient.” A frown formed across his face, “You’re the first dragon I’ve seen.” “Then why do you need to go to the basement?” Zylen lowered his frills, suddenly suspicious, “If you haven’t seen anyone, how do you know that’s where you’re needed?” The Spiral’s eyes widened, “Oh. That’s a part of my job. Something about relics needing to be monitored and a watchful resilient dragon to do the monitoring.” Oh gods this newcomer was in charge of the Reliquary Room. His first impressions weren’t exactly the best, but at least he was with them, “I can take you there, but you need to contact a member of staff first. They can take care of your things while I show you around.” “Right, sorry,” he fiddled with the rings on his claws, “Name’s Apollyon by the way.” “And mine’s Zylen. Now, follow along.” Knowing where staff frequented made it easy to track one down. A trip down a couple hallways and he ran into a Mirror, who he quickly informed about the new hire. It appeared to be going normally until he was asked to repeat the role Apollyon filled. When he did, a look of dread and what looked like pity crossed their face. When pressed, all he got out of them was, “Best of luck. Few last long in there. We’ll bring the key down to Elanor.” Before the Fae could question the four-eyed dragon, they had bolted, leaving the two of them alone. “What was that about?” Apollyon inquired, voice still monotonous and expression largely unchanged, “That’s not normal right?” Zylen slowly nodded, “That was….unusual to say the least.” Was the Reliquary Room [i]that[/i] bad? Is that why Darryn had to steal the key to get in? The Fae now worried for the newcomer, hoping that what lay within the room wasn’t as bad as all the warning signs were making it out to be. If Apollyon was hired for the position, Saile must have some confidence in the Spiral’s ability to perform his job effectively. The tour was about as he expected it to go. Minus staff steering clear of the two of them, likely due to word of his Spiral companion’s role, it was uneventful. Zylen even paused to teach the Spiral how to use the portal room effectively, telling him the same rules he’d been told about travel outside of tasks assigned to them. As established by all others before this one, the tour ended at the newcomer’s office. A thin coating of dust covered the entirety of the room Apollyon was to frequent. The lack of maintenance to the office only emphasized how unnerving the role was. Every room Zylen had come across in his search was kept clean as to not have a buildup of dust, even those not in use, but not this one. To see the dust and cobwebs sent a shiver through his body, and he couldn’t stand seeing it like that. With some convincing from Elanor and Jeremiah, the four of them slowly cleaned the room, arranging it to accommodate Apollyon’s smaller size. Once the key was handed over, Elanor proposed her habitual tea meeting to get to know the newest member more. A silent nod and the two were off, leaving Zylen alone with Jeremiah. A brief exchange and the two parted ways, the Fae getting back to the library. More cataloguing and a creepily quiet dinner later, and he was back to exploring the bookshelves in the hallway. Expecting nothing after finding one magical barrier, the Fae hoped to at least narrow down where the one Darryn discovered was. And then he did. He met little resistance when he did find the magical lock. The hard part was navigation of the magical maze that unlocked it. Precision and caution were something Zylen learned as the lock surged the magical energy back at the user when an attempt failed. Thankfully he caught on fast, and it didn’t take much to undo the lock. A tad surprisingly, the shelf to the right of the one containing the lock was the one to slide back, revealing a small hallway to an adjoining room. Double checking no one had seen him, Zylen slipped inside, moving the shelf back for privacy while he figured out was inside. The answer was….not much. At one point the room served as a second office, with a small desk, a small filing cabinet serving as an end table, two lamps that would be lit by magical means, and an area rug. Nothing remained of habitation from anyone besides a couple abandoned pens and blank sheets of paper on the desk, and illuminating the room a gloomy purple using his magic didn’t reveal much else. The drawers were largely empty as well, save for notes written in a hand Zylen didn’t recognize and in symbols he was equally unfamiliar with. Looking around the room revealed no further secrets, but as he pulled the carpet away to look underneath, he was shocked. Underneath, he found the door to a safe, firmly locked and with no clue to what the combination might be. And underneath its handle, he found another paper, neatly folded in half twice. This time the writing was all too familiar to Zylen as he read over Darryn’s words. [i]To whoever found this, I’m sorry. I wished to help, but it’s always scrambled when I try. Justice is too new to be the help I know he can be, but I also don’t wish to drag him into this. Not yet. If this is the note you’ve found at the safe, I’ve failed. However, there is one thing I can tell you. The answer is in the theatre. Backstage holds what you’ll need. Look...[/i] The rest was illegible besides Darryn’s signature, as if the ink itself had warped into a mess of lines. The note may have not said much, and provided a grim look into what may have been the last few months or even weeks the Skydancer was sane for, but there was one lead it gave. The theatre was due for another visit, and this time Zylen had others who might be able to help him. -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge So I realized I never put a note out for yesterday and I'm sorry about that. One moment I was writing and the next I lost literally all motivation and thought. I also then felt like I had the entire week catch up to me and fell asleep in like a minute and a half once I laid down. I'm back today though! Nothing much to say here. Got a new dragon who I cannot wait to do more with, and finally am dragging part arc 1's plot back to the surface. Yes, Apollyon is going to remain unnerving and 100% not behaving like a Spiral probably should. That's why I love him. [s]And not because he's got colors that remind me way too much of my Extinction fanderg. I promise.[/s] As a final note, it's so weird to write anything involving the Spiral breed when I own a fandragon for The Spiral and that fandragon isn't even a Spiral [i]they're a Pearlcatcher. This is going to be awful.[/i] New task comes with tomorrow's pull! Hopefully this week is better than this past one for writing motivation. For some reason I was very blegh compared to normal and I didn't like that.

[center][b]Day 35[/b] [item=Craig Fly][/center] Zylen was in a state of shock. After arriving late to breakfast, he was informed by a member of staff that Saile had already sent in their task for the day. As promised, only Apollyon was to leave to visit a clan in the Shifting Expanse on the edges of the Highland Scrub. A strange relic had been unearthed, and after causing mild unease among the dragons living there, they contacted Saile’s institute. Now, the Spiral was being sent off on his own to pick up the object so it may be delivered to the institute for further analysis. However, when he rushed to meet Apollyon down in his office, Jeremiah was quick to alert the Fae of his departure. Apparently the Spiral wanted to accomplish his task within the day, but the distance between the portal and clan was a fair distance away. As such, he left before Jeremiah, Elanor, or Zylen could warn him to keep his guard up outside the mansion. Hopefully what debriefing they gave the Spiral yesterday in regards to their work was enough of a warning. “So, what’s your plan for today?” Jeremiah asked as the Fae continued to loiter around in the common area of the Archives. Zylen raised his fans candidly answering, “Well, once I finish cataloguing the rest of the current shelf I’m on, I was going to try my hand at getting backstage in the theatre again.” “Oh yeah, I forgot about your discovery from yesterday.” Zylen could read curiosity on the Banescale’s face, “How are you struggling? Can’t you just get back there through the stage itself?” Zylen shook his head, “There’s some sort of physical barrier in the way. And any direct doors leading back there are locked as well. I’m beginning to think I’ll need to find a way to steal one of the keys.” “Nope!” Jeremiah said rather joyously, “I know exactly how you can get in.” “Wait, you do?” Zylen’s fans adjusted to match his confusion. “[i]Why?[/i]” “Had a couple performers in my clan. Consisted of a few actors, some stage techs, and two musicians. They never performed in the clan, and never stuck around for long due to rehearsals, but I heard plenty of stories. Even volunteered to travel along with some of them once to one of their shows.” He grinned slyly, “For you though, all you need to know is that the orchestra pit should get you there.” “Orchestra pit? I don’t recall seeing anything akin to a pit inside.” The Banescale let out a chuckle, wrapping a wing around the Fae, “Of course you didn’t. Not everyone is paying attention to the orchestra during a show. And, no offense, you don’t exactly strike me as someone who cares much for theatrical performances.” “None taken. You aren’t wrong with your assumptions,” Zylen pulled away from the larger dragon, raising his fans fully again, “So, are you going to show me or what?” “After lunch. You have cataloguing to do after all.” Zylen’s excitement over the chance of exploring the theatre more thoroughly made the hours leading up to it slow to a snail’s pace. He didn’t want to record book titles and note if they were out of place in any fashion. He wanted to get one step closer to figuring out more about the mansion. Without any motivation, he instead spent the time in his office, reorganizing his notes and desk area. He had let it get cluttered with all his time spent outside the small room. He was a bit shocked to see a paper he didn’t recall being a part of his notes. Found wedged between two pages he had written about Darryn, the writing was completely illegible. Distorted lines of ink ran across the page instead of words, a familiar sight but an unnerving one with where it had been discovered. Not wanting to look into it now, he stuck the paper on top of the filing cabinet, continuing to sort through his notes to add the new additions to them. As Zylen finished cleaning up his office space, relief washed over him as he glanced at a clock on the wall. Lunch had started not that long ago, so he not only could head to the dining hall, but he was late enough to not be snarked by Jeremiah. Grabbing a notepad and some pens and placing them in a satchel, Zylen prepared for his trip to the theatre. It was exactly as he remembered from before. He entered in on an empty audience, facing the stage in front of him. He eyed the doors he remembered the locations of, recalling each and every one of them being locked. As his companion joined him however, the Banescale’s face lit up. “Oh, I know what you ran into! Look over here!” The Fae followed the Ancient’s gaze, his falling onto what appeared to be windows into a smaller room. Jeremiah spoke up again, voice full of energy, “This mansion’s been fitted to play film! What you probably hit was a projection wall that had been moved into place for one of those. Means that a motion picture was the last thing put on in here.” Zylen nodded along, pretending to know what the Banescale was going on about, “Okay, but what does this have to do with getting backstage.” “Oh sorry. I wasn’t expecting the mansion to have access to film reels. Got a bit excited.” Jeremiah took a moment to recompose himself, adjusting his bandanna. “Follow me and I’ll show you. It’s easy to spot once you know what you’re looking for.” The Fae was guided onto the stage, where a series of handles was presented to him. With only an indentation where one would slip their claws under, he understood how he had missed them before. Using his tail for support, the Banescale pulled up on one of them, revealing a cavity beneath, “There you go! There should be a door on either end, and if that fails, there will be one in the center.” “You have my thanks,” Zylen replied, beginning his descent into the darkness below. He turned back briefly, “Are you planning on sticking around for me to come back?” Jeremiah smiled, pulling out a book from his bag, “I’ll be in the audience when you get back. I’d love to hear what you come across.” As much as Zylen wished to fulfill the Banescale’s wishes, he was quickly overwhelmed when he did finally reach the space behind the stage. A set of old wooden stairs led him out of the pit and into an absolute mess. With the enhanced vision he had in the dark (something he’d grown to appreciate the more he explored the mansion), he could make out a cacophony of costumes, props, instruments, and equipment. He could make his way through the haphazard arrangements, but the clashing styles and general clutter made it difficult for him to make heads or tails of anything. Ignoring the environment around him, he went searching for more doors. He was a bit surprised to find a pair of unlocked doors into a looping hallway, the adjoining rooms within serving as practice rooms, makeup and costume areas, storage, and special rooms for star guests of a night’s performance. To his dismay all but the storage rooms were locked, and of the storage rooms, all but one were a mess to match the backstage. The one remaining storage area housed all sorts of texts for plays and musicals, as well as choral and instrumental pieces. Not wanting to dig through them all now, Zylen left. Further exploration led him to more locked doors, these leading to tech areas, as well as a set of stairs leading to a floor above and below. He did have access to the stairs, but the doors to enter those floors remained firmly locked. Signs pointed out the floors were costume and prop storage, and one warning sign designated one use the cargo elevator for background prop pieces. Zylen hoped the elevator may be in use, but again found it inaccessible. Frustrated and out of places to explore, the Fae unlocked one of the main doors to the backstage area, leaving through it. “Nothing good?” Jeremiah inquired as Zylen emerged, urging for an answer. “Not with the time and lack of resources I have. Nothing but more locked doors and a disaster of theatre things strewn about.” Disappointed at his finds, he was feeling like he’d made no progress at all. At least he had ideas, “First, it would be good to find a way to light up that area without arousing suspicion. I didn’t turn on any lights out of caution, but without a clear look at what’s back there, I doubt we’ll make much progress. I also don’t want to steal keys, but it’s starting to look that way again. Do you have any ideas?” The uncertainty in the Banescale’s voice was clear as he responded, “I have a few ideas, but I can’t test them without having been back there myself. Not to mention I’ll require Elanor’s help for a couple of them. It’s best we hold off for now.” Zylen nodded, “Sounds like a plan. We can always return on another day off after all.” Now in agreement, the two closed the trapdoor into the orchestra pit before leaving, returning to their employed positions. Cataloguing books remained tedious as Zylen mulled over his newest discovery, thinking through where he’d even begin searching for a safe combination. Not to mention whatever else the map he had might have been hinting at being back there. Leaving late for dinner, Zylen was nearly barreled over by Apollyon as he darted around a corner. The Spiral’s eyes were wide as he stopped abruptly to avoid harming the smaller dragon, a smile crossing his face. “You,” He began bluntly, voice in his usual haunting tone, “I require your assistance. I need you to write a report.” “O-Of course,” Zylen blurted out before he could think, “R-Right this way.” “Thank you,” the Spiral took off ahead of the Fae, making regular loops around him. “This relic is dangerous,” he muttered, “Direct exposure makes one want to harm others. It is wrapped and I am resistant so I am safe. But,” “But what?” Zylen pried as they approached the library doors he had left moments earlier. “But you are not. Others are not. Institute shouldn’t house this. At least, not without precautions in place.” Despite the chopped up sentences, Apollyon didn’t appear frightened in any fashion. If anything, he was more likely concerned, but Zylen struggled to read much of anything from the Spiral. “I’m sure Saile and others at the institute have dealt with similar. I trust they know what to do with it,” he reassured, hoping the words would be as calming as he hoped. “I hope you are right Zylen.” The rather cold tone of his companion sent a shiver down his spine. He was certain Apollyon didn’t mean to cause such a sensation, but afterwards the Fae was filled with doubt. He knew that Saile’s institution was well-respected and professional. They had to know what they were doing to get to such a standing. Yet… The institute [i]did[/i] know what they were doing, right? Zylen didn’t send the relic with the report that night. Instead, he sent along a personal letter to Saile. If he wanted to trust the institute with something potentially dangerous, he wanted to hear it formally from his employer. -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge Team today was Zylen, Eowyn, and Howl! After a lot of cautious resets, I was able to get going with no deaths at all (although Howl got down to 4 health at one point). Zylen is level 9, Eowyn level 7, and Howl level 6. Nice to get some levels on Howl so he'll be more likely to survive now. Anyways, we get to see more from Apollyon today, as well as more strangely niche information from Jeremiah. Regardless, the theatre's backstage area is now unlocked and will remain that way unless someone gets caught for one reason or another. There is [i]plenty[/i] hiding within the mess it is right now, and I'm sure Zylen and his dislike of clutter will slowly uncover those. There's also more than a couple secret doors and hallways yet to be uncovered, and the door to the projector room are still locked. Finally, with another week's worth of entries done, here's the word and page count: [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/537779856474243072/806019740262858792/Screen_Shot_2021-02-01_at_11.32.42_PM.png[/img] Getting close to 60k words! Sorry it's taken a bit longer to get these last seven entries out in terms of break days, but I should be back and okay for a bit longer.

[center][b]Day 36[/b] [item=Softshell Scorpion][/center] Zylen silently entered the common area in the archives, not surprised to see Jeremiah at one of the desks decorating the space. The Banescale was busying himself with reading over documents handed to him, and from the frustrated expression he wore, he wasn’t having luck with some aspect of the task handed to him. Meanwhile, the Fae gripped a letter containing Saile’s response in his claws, looking to locate Apollyon so the two could read it together. Nodding as Jeremiah acknowledged him, he made his way to the Spiral’s office, knocking on the door. Rapid movements followed as its occupant rushed to answer, the door swinging open in a fast and fluid motion. The piercing red eyes of the Spiral looked Zylen up and down briefly before he spoke, “Come in.” His lengthy body twisting around to allow the smaller dragon to enter, “I assume the letter came in?” “Yes,” Zylen replied, trying to get a read on how the relic keeper was feeling. He found nothing besides his typical neutrality, “I wanted to wait to read it. It’s best if we were together after all.” “Precisely,” the Spiral stared the letter down as Zylen revealed it, remaining silent. Without a read, the Fae couldn’t tell if Apollyon was suspicious about the letter or anticipating a positive response. It wasn’t difficult to cut open the relatively plain envelope with the claw he wore. Nowhere near as elaborate as the one sent when he was sent to the Holland residence, it was only adorned with simple gold lines. His and Apollyon’s names were written neatly on the front, and the symbol of the institute was embossed in the bottom right. He began to read after he unfolded the paper within, keeping his voice steady. [i]Zylen and Apollyon, First, I am relieved the recovery of the relic was far less uneventful than your past tasks. I am aware that sending a sole member to recover the piece was risky taking this into consideration. There will be proper compensation regarding this, and I will provide similar in the future should I send only one of you off in the future. I doubt the situation will become this dire, but if only one of you can safely partake in one of my jobs for any reason, knowing that solo trips are possible comforts me. But I am ignoring the reason you wrote in the first place, which is in regards to the recovered relic and Apollyon’s concerns. The institute has handled many enchanted artifacts since its establishment, both harmless and harmful. I’ve seen far worse enter this place, some requiring thorough destruction to end the effects they began to have on employees and visitors. Many protocols are in place to prevent such incidents, and there are half a dozen rooms similar to the Reliquary Room here as well. I assure you the recovered shard will be in good hands. That said, I talked with the head of Artifact Storage here, and they agreed to let you house the object if you desire. They only require documentation of the piece in exchange as it is institution property regardless of where it is kept. You are free to send it in as well. I know your concern was with the institution’s handling of such objects, which is well-founded considering Apollyon’s only recently joined the rest of you. In the end, it’s your decision, and I will not have any sway on the choice you make. I look forward to your response, Professor Richard Saile[/i] “I say we keep it.” The words were immediate following the conclusion of the letter, “I can monitor it with the others.” Zylen lowered his fans, unsure how to interpret the cold words of the Spiral, “Saile has a point in bringing up how new you are,” he retorted. “You’ve barely had time to look into the room and get adjusted to your position. Yet you already want to add something new to a room that has the entirety of staff scared?” “Yes,” another blunt response. “Care to [i]elaborate?[/i]” Zylen glared down the Spiral, fans lowering further in distrust. Despite his attempt to intimidate, Apollyon’s expression didn’t waver, “Room requires rearrangement. Relics require gentle care. Found notes from past caretakers. Some gibberish, others helpful.” “And the tacky ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign you’ve so graciously placed on the door leading to the room?” A slight frown appeared, “Told you before. I am resistant to magic. All magic. Raised and trained that way. You are not. Relics are therefore dangerous to you. For now. Once arranged you may enter. Until then, do not.” The steady eyes of Spiral bore into Zylen, “Understood?” Zylen swallowed nervously, afraid he may have offended the relic keeper, “Understood.” He raised his fans some again, trying to show he meant no harm with his questioning. “I still say we hand the relic over to the institute. Let you get more accustomed to your space. After all, if you did decide to keep it, you’d have to write the acquisition paper and documentation to be sent to the institute. Not to mention an extra copy for the archives.” He watched the Spiral relax some, “Very well. I will write the letter. Apologize to Saile for rashness.” He paused before making eye contact again, “Have to do alone. Do not like being watched. Can you please leave?” “Of course.” Zylen dismissed himself eagerly. While certainly an unsettling dragon, he was beginning to get an idea of what Apollyon was like. He didn’t want to make full assumptions yet, but the Spiral was certainly passionate about the job he has been given, even if his chillingly quiet voice often reflected otherwise. He also appeared to mean well for the others in the mansion, even if his methods were a bit...strange. Despite the urge he felt to explore the theatre further, he wished to do so with Elanor, and as he quickly found out, she was caught up in her work. Something about potential connections with a strange individual that had visited the mansion in the past on multiple occasions. Zylen had never seen the tundra so actively digging through papers, eyes darting between ones she had strewn out in front of her and those still in the box. Whoever it was, she had followed his example and made a folder, notes hastily thrown inside with a small stack of documents laying on top. Instead, Zylen took the rest of his day to relax. Finishing his current spot in his extensive catalogue didn’t take long, leaving him with a few hours to himself. So, he grabbed a book that looked interesting, and headed outside. He was happy to encounter Jaxon on his way there, the Guardian taking a short break of his own. The two chatted about their days as they made their way out to the main patio, parting ways soon after. As the Fae opened the book, he felt his mind go fuzzy. Shaking the sensation free, he began to read, only for it to return. After struggling further to make progress, he closed the title, frustrated, feeling dizzy, and feeling a headache coming on. Next thing he knew he felt himself falling, and he wasn’t conscious when he hit the ground. Needless to say, when Zylen recovered, [i]A Journey Skyward[/i] by one Tiffany Meadow found itself among its equally strange brethren that night. ------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge Rolled Jaxon, Eowyn, and Apollyon and oh lord the amount of time I spent refreshing to get a mob set I could trust Apollyon to survive through was beyond stressful. However, he is level 6 now, and Eowyn has hit level 8 as well! The Delta permanently has me scared between crit rates plus it being the venue Meir died in. This is mainly me loving to write Apollyon today. He's so fun and I'm so happy he survived today's battles so I can continue writing him. Other than that, not much else. Zylen's added another book to his special cabinet, and Elanor will have a breakthrough here soon that may end up explored later. Eowyn will also be back and wanting [i]all the answers[/i] here in a couple days as well. A lot of setup being made in the background here and I can't wait to dig into it.

@Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge
Sorry for no post tonight. I was feeling up to it but then personal irl things happened and it ruined my entire mental state. I waited to see if I'd get to feeling better, but that hasn't happened. I at least tried to type before posting this since I knew where I was going with today's post, but I've lost all motivation. I'll hopefully be doing better tomorrow, but no promises. I hate being mentally kicked down like this.

[center][b]Day 37[/b] [item=Greystone Deer] [b]Warnings: Gore, slight body horror, vomit, helplessness, agony[/b][/center] Zylen’s breakfast was interrupted with the arrival of Saile’s letter detailing their next task. The staff member offered to read it off for him as he ate, but he dismissed them. He’d be able to read it on his own, and Howl was also enjoying a late breakfast after a recent patrol around the grounds. The Tundra was eager to read the task aloud, having rarely been present for one, let alone having the honor of speaking the words. A bit sloppily, he tore open the envelope, having a little difficulty reading the professor’s writing as he stopped to decipher what had been written on the paper’s surface. Satisfied as he finished, the Tundra looked to Zylen, “Do you want me to bring Clancy?” The Fae rushed to swallow his current bite of food, hiding his mouth with a claw as he spoke, “That would be perfect. Thank you.” He watched the Tundra shovel a large chunk of his remaining food into his mouth before departing, and he was left alone to think about the task. According to Saile there had been some notes lent out to the Shadow branch of the institute that had recently been rediscovered. The professor didn’t know what would be on them since the exchanging of information between branches was common. While these may have come from the mansion initially, there was no way to tell if they had been shuffled around between buildings since then. And with so many documents passed around regularly without tracking where they’ve been or will be going, they could be anything. Regardless, the Shadow branch wished for them to be returned to where they originated, so Zylen was to go with Clancy. Saile mentioned Clancy’s condition in the letter, stating if she was not well enough that she may sit the task out. The professor offered her join along so she may stretch her limbs, as this would be fast and easy. He also fully expected them to linger around to explore, and was in no hurry to get their report within the day. It was almost like another day off, with an errand to run in the middle of it. Sure enough, Zylen was pleased to watch the Pearlcatcher join him in the portal room. She appeared relaxed as she adjusted a brand new sling that braced her left arm, double-checking the straps. He wasted no time mentioning the new apparel, “When you’d get that? Looks fancy.” “A couple days ago,” she replied proudly, “Unlike the one given to me, it’s designed for protection. Not only made with durable lightweight materials, but it has some built-in wards against attacks.” “Impressive,” Zylen commented, “How much did it cost you? I doubt those come cheap.” Clancy nodded, “Took a fair amount of the gold I’ve earned to get, but it’s worth it. It’s almost comfortable enough to wear to bed.” She joked, chuckling. “Glad you’re doing better.” Zylen smiled, spreading out his fans, “Shall we get going?” “After you,” she gestured, and soon the two were making their way through the portal. A vaguely familiar room greeted the Fae as he recalled his meeting with Tobias. The doors were still open to welcome dragons to and from the portal, and today there were a couple dragons studying quietly at the scattered desks. One looked up to observe the two of them briefly before returning to their work, uninterested in the sudden visitors. Without someone to greet them, the two began to make their way down the hallways, looking for the entrance. There they believed they’d get the help they need, if not the notes. The eyes on the Gaoler maintaining watch over the lobby lit up as she spotted Zylen and Clancy, “Welcome to Rook’s Coven! Is there something I can help you with? If I can’t answer your questions, I can take you to someone who can.” “Rook’s Coven?” Clancy spoke aloud, suspicion in her voice, “Quite a name for a well-maintained place such as this.” A nod from the stranger, “We get that a lot. When this place was built, it was the meeting place of a coven. Over the years the purpose changed but the name hasn’t. A lot of folks around here simply call it The Rookery.” “Makes sense I suppose,” Zylen watched Clancy take in the architecture around her, “This clearly isn’t the original building. When did it get rebuilt?” The Gaoler opened her mouth to answer, but Zylen stopped her, “Apologies, architecture’s her thing.” Zylen ignored the glare he received for his interruption, “We’re here on behalf of Professor Saile in regards to some notes. Any idea where we can pick them up or who to see about getting them?” “Oh, so you’re the pair from Magpie Manor! We haven’t had any of you visit in…” the large dragon tried to think through something, “Yeah, I think it’s been eleven years now. Last visit we got was from Iris. Poor darling looked like death all acting like she had days to live. It’s been so long I don’t remember why she was here, but I don’t forget a face like that. I wish I could have done something to comfort her, but all she asked was directions to the library. I hope she’s alright.” Zylen had to force himself not to express that he knew that the former librarian was most certainly deceased. Instead he attempted to bring focus back on their conversation, “I’m sure she’s doing okay wherever she is. You were going to show us to where we’re needed?” “Right, right.” The Gaoler rose from where she was seated, “This way please.” Taking the two of them down a series of smaller, more bland hallways decorated with billboards and the personalized doors of some of the faculty, it was clear their guide knew the place quite well. The Fae decided it was a good opportunity for further questions, as whoever this was, she enjoyed having a conversation partner, “So, how long have you worked here for?” “Oh so [i]you[/i] can ask what you want but I can’t?” Clancy chided. “You could have asked your question again once we started this way you know.” “Oh you two remind me too much of Darryn and Yule. The two worked great together, but they always butted heads. Always cast it aside when work was involved.” She audibly sighed as she finished saying this, but didn’t comment further. She shook herself before continuing, “Anyways, to answer the Pearlcatcher, that’s correct. This is the third building, built I believe a little under two hundred years ago? There’s probably a plaque around here somewhere about it. As for your question little one, I’ve been here a little over twenty years now, and I’ve been in charge of the lobby for the entirety of that. It’s interesting to see what individuals walk through those doors.” “Have you ever seen professor Saile in-person?” Zylen abruptly asked, wondering if he’d get any new information on his employer. She shook her head, “Only his assistants. They keep them busy at the Corvus Institute, especially with that archive of theirs.” She paused, gesturing to an undecorated door, “We’re here! If you’d like, we can continue this later. I’ve always enjoyed talking to dragons like yourself.” Clancy stopped the Gaoler as she went to walk away, “I’m Clancy and that’s Zylen. In case we don’t see you again.” “Well it was a pleasure to meet both of you,” she let out a gentle smile not dissimilar to the one Zylen received regularly from Elanor, “Mine’s Glacia. You enjoy the rest of your day now, okay?” A nod farewell and Clancy turned to knock on the office door, finding herself face to face with a Bogsneak. He smiled warmly as he looked over the two of them, “Ah, welcome! You two must be Saile’s assistants. Come in, I’ve been expecting you.” After a customary exchange of names and small talk, the Bogsneak handed over a small folder containing the notes the two had come for. He appeared puzzled as he struggled to describe them, eventually stopping entirely before saying, “Take a look at them yourself and you’ll see what I mean.” Zylen nodded before pulling out the papers, reading over them. At first he took them to be some sort of excerpt from a piece of fiction. Yet as he read on and watched the hand of the writer begin to slip further and further into frantic scribbles, he became as confused as the dragon that had handed them over. The topic was strange as well, the writing describing how they had seen the end and the horrors of the barren landscape wiped clean of dragonkind brought. Something about “living skeletons” of ash-covered bones that gorged themselves on the trash and sodden earth that coated the ground. It was horrifying for a fictional setting, but this wasn’t written as such, and what the Fae was left with was concern towards the mental state of the writer. He offered the papers to Clancy, “You want to take a look? I have no idea why such a thing was in our archives at some point. Maybe it’s part of something bigger that we’ve yet to find?” The Pearlcatcher did her best attempt at a shrug, grabbing the papers with her uninjured arm, “I mean, you’re the one studying this. I’m always willing to offer a second opinion if you want. I [i]did[/i] agree to be your voice of reason.” Her joyous smile faded almost as soon as she began to read. She began mouthing some of what she read, Zylen making out words he clearly didn’t recall finding on the pages moments prior. “I….I” Clancy began, failing to find her words as she gripped the pages tightly. Her eyes grew wide as she bared her teeth in pain, the claws on her left hand attempting to clench into a fist as it began to wrack her body. In a moment of lucidity, she looked at Zylen, quietly choking out, “I understand,” and proceeded to fall to the floor. The Bogsneak was out the door to get help almost immediately as Clancy struggled to her feet, trusting Zylen to her. Her breathing was shallow as she attempted to speak, but instead of words a trickle of dark fluid dripped onto the floor. Unable to provide physical assistance, Zylen instead attempted to dim the lights in the room, believing it may help with her clear struggle to stay conscious. A moment later she was retching, vomiting up a large amount of the same black liquid before collapsing onto it. The convulsions started soon after, Zylen having to back away to avoid being harmed by the sudden movements. As they stopped he watched Clancy fall unconscious, breathing remaining rapid as she slipped into it. And then they slowed. And continued to slow. Until they stopped entirely. Help arrived a couple minutes later, rushing Clancy to the infirmary while attempting to revive her. Zylen could do nothing but watch as the Pearlcatcher was wheeled away, turning his focus to the one thing she left behind. Seeing a strange rainbow sheen over the liquid and a foul odor filling the air, new worry filled his body. And as he touched it to confirm his suspicions, his heart sank. This wasn’t a Pearlcatcher's ichor like he suspected initially. This was oil. ------------- Clancy wasn’t sure where she was. She was dead, that was certain. The way she felt her body collapse and begin to shut down, it couldn’t be anything else. She was in no position to question what life after death was like, but as she took her first shaky steps into the rubble-filled terrain around her, she didn’t believe it would be anything like this. Above her, a black sun emitted a blood-red light, as if to bleed onto the earth. Below, the countless grains of sand that had once belonged to the dilapidated buildings around her. And the buildings were all empty husks, save for tatters of fabric and chips of faded paint. Every now and again she’d see a bone or two, unsure if they had once belonged to a dragon or some other organism. On and on she carried herself, without sight or sign of another. When she saw the figure in the distance, she expected relief. She wasn’t alone in this twisted afterlife. Another dragon to communicate with. Instead, she was flooded with fear, enough that it threatened to drop her prone. And with the fear came a familiar pain. As if targeting her wound, pain erupted in her shoulder, causing her to cry out in agony. She wasted no time attempting to rip off her brace to air out the wound, only to find it firmly stuck to her arm. Feeling something warm beginning to trickle down, she reached for it, expecting to pull her hand back to find blood. Instead, her claws were coated in a black substance, sticky, hot, and reeking of rot. The smell was enough to make her gag, but she managed to avoid getting sick, albeit barely. The figure was coming her way now, but between her growing terror and the pain, she could do nothing but helplessly watch. She wasn’t sure what to make of them as it finally stopped its approach. She wanted to call it a dragon, but it couldn’t be one. Instead of an organic head, it wore a helmet of tarnished metal, rotting tattered scraps of fabric hanging from the plating. A crown of dull red feathers bloomed from behind, once vibrant and intimidating but now barely holding their place among the steel. More rotting cloth draped off of its stone and bone body, every crack oozing the same black fluid that flowed from her arm. It pooled as its feet, dark clouds rolling up as it evaporated, the stench carried by what little wind flowed through the land. Before she could form a conclusion of what she was looking at, another wave of pain erupted in her arm, and another familiar feeling crept into her body. It was that [i]digging[/i] feeling. The one that bored into her whenever she first was branded, eating its way deeper and deeper into her core. Only this time it was even stronger, and barely struggling to claw her open and sink itself into her flesh and bone, seeping itself in the magical veins that coursed through her body like the ones that carried her blood. Once again it stopped at both her physical and magical heart, hesitant. The pain had brought her to the ground but as it halted, she felt adrenaline flood into her body. She rose to her feet, rage boiling under her skin like the pain afflicted across her entire body. If she was going to die again, in this wretched afterlife, she wasn’t going to go down the same way. “Hey!” she roared, fighting the urge to fall to the ground again, “I’m not going down that easily!” She huffed, mustering up strength to call out again, “I’ll fight you until I can’t any further! You hear?!” Her heart sank as she heard a voice, equally coherent as it was incomprehensible. A voice that did not speak words, yet made its message clear, “Good. We use that. Now, wake up.” Clancy fell, pain weakening but not dissipating. She felt herself slip into unconsciousness once more, the last thing to cross her vision being that of the now slowly retreating figure. ----------- Bile rose in Clancy mouth the instant she gasped fresh air once more. The residual taste of oil and plastic being the last thing she expected as she breathed once more. A team of doctors stared at her in shock as she gripped the arms of the medical bed she lay in, the nightmarish pain still wracking her body. As it faded, she found herself reaching for her injured shoulder once more, stopping in fear. There was an ache, as expected, but far weaker. But that was the last thing that bothered her about what she felt. While she could tell her apparel had been torn off to perform whatever medical procedures on her body, the brace remained. She felt for anything akin to a gap, only to find that it was as if the piece had merged with her skin. Not only that, but she could [i]feel[/i] her left arm again. A test of moving her arm only confirmed her mounting fear, having full motion of the limb again. “I…” her voice was dry and raspy, as if it had been days since she spoke. She managed to choke out, “I need to see Zylen,” before asking for water, washing down the awful taste in her mouth. Hopefully the Fae would be able to see her. The team, growing ever more surprised at her fast recovery, agreed, rushing to get the Fae while others performed mundane tests on her blood pressure, heart and breathing rate, and drew a blood sample. Clancy, and now the doctors, only grew more fearful as they drew the blood, finding the red slightly tainted with ribbons of black. The Pearlcatcher wished she could say she didn’t have a clue as to the strange substance invading her blood, but she wasn’t blessed with ignorance like that. She [i]knew[/i] what it was. And she knew that was [i]in[/i] her now. “Clancy!” Zylen fans were half raised in what she assumed was concern, “Please tell me you’re okay.” The Pearlcatcher struggled to find a lie. What was she supposed to tell him? That she was out for who knows long after suffering through who knows what and was [i]fine[/i]? That hey, guess what? Her arm was better now but she couldn’t take off the brace anymore? That she no longer felt herself? She looked at Zylen with pleading eyes filled with terror, voice steady but lost, “No Zylen. I don’t think I am.” -------- @Galehaut @TrashMomma @Spectator @megara17 @Jetdrana @CirrusAscending @Tynethyne @Drachenschwinge Tell me if I need to put extra warnings as usual! RNG apparently told me today's my lucky day, so, uh, Clancy's an Extinction Avatar now. I want to add more commentary but I'm still processing this. Maybe I'll have something more to say tomorrow. [s]This post was [i]7 pages[/i] in the doc. Whelp[/s]