II - Under Watchful Eye

The Lore of a Loremaster

Topic/Postby Liandrix » 17 Sep 2012, 03:23

Liandrix looked down at his map. There was a small golden dot labelled ‘Residence’ on it, and it was placed very close to Lordamere lake. He thought about what to do for a moment. It was still early in the afternoon as meeting Meredith Dippel and getting his home appointed didn’t take as long as he had expected. He might as well go check out to library, or ‘Archives’ as it said on his map.

It took him the better part of an hour to get from where he was to the building where the libraries were. His first obstacle was deducing where in the city he was. He quickly found that it was relatively easy to navigate on the map using the many huge purple towers in the city. Once he had done that he had to actually get to the northwestern part of the city, not too far from the Violet Citadel.

Once he had entered the Kirin Tor Archives he found himself standing in a wide sweeping hallway clad in purple and dark red. The entire length of the walls – much like in Meredith’s office – was covered in bookcases that reached the ceiling, punctured only by a balustrade for each floor. Each corner was void of books and instead had a winding staircase that lead to the next floor. The stairs seemed to be made of pure gold.

Liandrix’s eyes moved to the middle of the hall where he could see neat rows of dozens of long dark wooden tables lined up. They weren’t the same size and were placed in an illogical order, but somehow altogether they filled up the hallway perfectly. Liandrix idly wondered if they were placed in a specific pattern. Looking up to see if he could find a way to look at the tables from above he could see that there were well over a dozen floors, each of them filled with books and scrolls. He didn’t think that he would ever be able to read them all even if he lived to be a thousand years old.

He moved into the hall and manoeuvred in between the tables. Many of them were occupied with one or several mages, most of them deeply sunken into their work. A smaller table near him held only one occupant, an old man who had completely covered the table with papers and books. He was muttering in a low voice as Liandrix passed and didn’t even seem to notice his presence.

Liandrix moved away from the tables and the low rumble of the mage’s babbling to inspect the books from close by. Once he could read the titles on the covers he frowned. Most of them were intelligible, not because the titles had been damaged or simply had faded over time, but because most of them seemed to be written in another language. In fact, the only books that held words of Common were books of the same language the others were written in, but possessed only a title in Common. Liandrix felt overwhelmed; how was he supposed to read any of this?

“I take it you are not familiar with Thalassian?”

Liandrix jumped at the clear voice so close by his ear. He turned around and saw instantly that it had been a Quel’dorei, a High Elf who had spoken to him. He had seen only a few in Stratholme and Dalaran seemed like a home to them. The elf was dressed in sweeping red robes and held himself magnificently tall.

“It’s our language,” the Elf said gently, and added with a slight frown, “you must be new here, yes?”

“First day,” Liandrix admitted sheepishly.

“Well, how wonderful!” the Elf said, genuine joy displaying on his sharp features. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Althanir, Althanir Felo’dinoriel; It means Flamekeeper in Thalassian,” the High Elf said in a rush. He raised his palm as if pushing a lid of a hatch up and in the same second an orb of fire had appeared on it with a blinding flash.

“I— I am Liandrix Emmot, of Stratholme,” Liandrix said, unsure of whether he should look at the elf or the ball of flame that hovered slightly above the palm of Althanir’s hand.

“Most pleasurable to meet you, Liandrix,” the elf said, and added a dramatic bow.

Althanir noticed Liandrix’ eyes on the orb of flame and he let it fade slowly until it vanished.

“Not something you have done before, yes?” Althanir asked, smiling.

“Actually,” Liandrix began, feeling nervous, “my mother taught me the theory, but she told me never to practise this type of magic without proper supervision, so I never actually tried it.”

“Well go on, then. Show me!” Althanir said excitedly. “Don’t worry, Liandrix. I assure you, I shall maintain ample supervision,” he added with a wink.

Liandrix could not possibly back out now. A drop of sweat started to form on his brow; he hadn’t even begun to cast the spell. Slowly he raised his palm the way the High Elf had done. Somehow his mother had never discussed stances with him. He felt within himself for the proper feeling and his lips slowly muttered the spell as he had been taught only months before. He suddenly wondered if his mother had already known he could go to Dalaran at the time.

Liandrix finished the spell and opened his eyes at the same time. A flash, brighter than the one the fireball of the High Elf had caused lit the books they stood near as a ball of flames quickly came into being. Suddenly Liandrix’s hand tilted. The ball actually had weight to it. In a wave of panic Liandrix realised the fireball was about to fall and he quickly focussed his energy underneath the ball.

It was too much.

The fireball was propelled into the bookcases quicker than Liandrix himself could follow. Althanir had dived out of the way with lightning speed and avoided the burning globe which was now driving itself into the bookcase, slowly burning away any book in its path. The High Elf swiftly struck the ball with a spell of his own, immediately extinguishing the fire, leaving only a black, smoking hole.

Silence stronger than the silence one finds in a library on a quiet day hung in the air. Liandrix did not dare look behind him but knew that every pair of eyes must be on him. Slowly he chanced a look and his fear was acknowledged. Even the muttering mage had put down his scrolls as he stared openly. Liandrix looked back at Althanir as the elf brushed at the remains of a few desecrated covers.

“Well, nothing we cannot fix, I suppose.”

Suddenly the elf stopped his brushing and turned to stare at Liandrix himself, as if he only just realised what had happened. The joy on his face was gone, replaced instead by a piercing gaze that suggested he was reading Liandrix’ mind.

“That was quite the presentation, Liandrix.” He kept staring at him with the same look. Liandrix wondered what he was thinking.

“Don’t you … need to sit down?” he asked suddenly.

Liandrix shook his head slowly, a little surprised by the question, and the worried tone Althanir used. “No, I’m fine. I didn’t get hurt.”

But Althanir did not withdraw his gaze. “I see.”

There was movement from the back of the hall. People were getting back to their own reading and the silence seemed somewhat lifted. Finally Althanir looked away.

“I think you better go, Liandrix of Stratholme. Worry not of what you did. I myself am to blame for this,” Althanir said as he looked over his shoulder at the approaching party. He did not smile.

Liandrix looked at the group of people approaching as well. They looked to be officials of some sort. Not wanting to end up in trouble on the first day he obeyed the High Elf and swiftly turned to the exit and marched away.

Shorel’aran, dear Human,” Liandrix heard the elf say behind him. He had no idea what it meant, but guessed it was a goodbye of a sort.

Once outside, Liandrix decided – after taking several deep breaths to calm his growing anxiety – to go to his residence outside the city and drop his pack there. Perhaps there would be time to head back to the library before dark.

Leaves crunched under his shoes as Liandrix walked away from the stone path and into the forest surrounding Dalaran after a short hour of crossing the city again. Most houses here looked the same, although some residents had apparently added some of their own imagination to their wooden cottages. There were houses with added rooms, or a shed. There was even a house Liandrix passed that had three instead of the usual two floors.

Finally Liandrix reached his own cottage, which was evident as his name had already been added to the mailbox. Liandrix looked at the names on the wooden container.

Liandrix Emmot
&
Verdwald Slopes


Liandrix spoke the second name on the mailbox aloud and found it to sound odd in his tongue. He opened the mailbox out of sheer curiosity and was surprised to find an envelope bearing his name in purple lettering. He turned to the house as he began to pry open the all-too-familiar purple wax seal and jumped a foot in the air as the door to the house banged open and a tall figure jumped in front of him.

“ERIK! Erik, oh you wonderful boy, how I’ve missed you!”

The old man advanced quickly on Liandrix, his arms open wide. Liandrix quickly took a step back. The man looked as if he had lived off the street for years. His long grey hair hung in unkempt parts around and in front of his face, his brown robe was stained in multiple places, and his shoes – if you could call them that – consisted of a pair of brown pieces of leather with two leather thongs holding them in place.

“But Erik, don’t you recognise me? It’s me, Wald!” the old man said as he held out his arms as if he expected Liandrix to suddenly jump in them.

Wald waited a moment, a giant grin on his weathered, impish face, and then launched himself at Liandrix, hugging him until Liandrix was sure he would burst. Wald proceeded to pinch his cheeks ruffle his hair and clap him on the back all the while muttering things like ‘Oh my, how you’ve grown,’ ‘Where did you get that blonde hair?’ and ‘is aunt Bella still as fat as a toad?’

Liandrix didn’t even get time to answer a question. Wald suddenly smacked himself on the head and pronounced that he was an inconsiderate Dillbonger.

“How rude of me not to invite you in straightaway. Come inside and tell me all about your adventures!” and with that he vanished inside the house.

Liandrix stood outside, not quite sure what exactly had happened. Apparently he was to live with a madman. Instead of following Wald he looked down at the envelope. In order to buy himself some time he decided to read the letter outside. What he read made his mind snap back to reality.

Dear Liandrix Emmot,

It has come under my attention that you were involved in the partial destruction of the Kirin Tor Archives. You were witnessed on twenty-fifth day at twenty-two minutes passed the seventeenth hour to have used fire magic to decimate numerous books in the Thalassian section.

It was also noted that you fled the scene after your unlawful deed and did not report to the authorities who also witnessed your flight from the Archives. Destruction of Kirin Tor property, fleeing the stage of the crime as well as using a fire spell outside the appointed areas are all deeds in contradiction with the laws of the Kirin Tor as well as the Laws of Dalaran.

You are to report to the House of Keeping on the twenty-sixth day at the forty-seventh minute of the ninth hour for a preliminary hearing after which you shall be brought before the Supreme Council. You are free - although not required - to bring defence for your case.

In my own hand,

Meredith Dippel, Abjurer, first class. Liaison office.


Liandrix folded the letter with shaking hands while in front of him loud shouts of frustration could be heard coming from inside the house. Wald was probably wondering what was keeping him. The woods around the house suddenly seemed a lot smaller and darker. Behind him the sun was almost touching the tips of the trees.

The first day in Dalaran was over. But despite all that had happened Liandrix felt oddly content. He had been taken into the city, had met a High Elf, used a fire spell for the first time and destroyed the archives in the process, met a raving lunatic he was to live with and had been charged for three crimes, all in one day.

Liandrix reluctantly made his way over to the house that was now emitting high-pitched whistles like a man would use to call his dog. He vaguely wondered if the rest of his days in Dalaran would also be this interesting.
"The motivation to study the Arcane should be born out of the understanding of the needs of those who would be affected by it.."

~ Loremaster Liandrix Emmot
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