The Library of Anvard rises around you. Reddish wooden pillars like twisted
tree-trunks support the roof at even intervals, long bookcases in rows between
them. The room is warmly lit by a multitude of round hung lamps, like globular
fruit. The air is heavy with the sweet and musty smell of books, old and new.
Hundreds of volumes line the shelves, and a few spaces between trunks have
been left open for tables at which to reading and write. Thick pillar candles
can be used to bring a little more yellow light to late-night researchers in
The room appears to be well-dusted and well-kept, its contents carefully
maintained and repaired throughout the years.
You can go: Hallway <W>
Contents: A Row of Bookshelves.
Nathen wanders in and lifts one feathery white brow at the guard curiously. A small smear of blackberry jelly on his chin.
Haft enters the library and glances around to see if anyone is already occupied with reading.
Nathen asks, “Guardsman Haft. What brings you into my domain this day?”
Nathen settles into his ‘professional’ stance with his hands folded together in the small of his back.
Haft snaps his heels together as he turns. He hands over a small volume. “Returning one of your subjects to its place.”
Nathen asks, “Excellent. What did you thnk of it?”
Nathen eyes the volume in Haft’s hand critically.
Haft says, “To be honest, some of the entries fell a little flat.”
Nathen tilts his head slightly curiously.
Nathen says, “Not one for plebian humor and grossly obvious riddles? How odd.”
Haft’s own brow inches upward.
Nathen runs his long fingers over the book making note of every blemish.
Haft says,, “In one example a knight said to another, ‘I will defeat!’ To which the other replied, ‘I will de-leg you.’l”
Nathen asks, “However it seems to find an audience with the more easily amused among the castle’s population. Perhaps something a bit more intellectual?”
Nathen turns to see Lanisen enter.
Haft says, “I need something in reserve for riddles with Lord Darrin, as it turns out. So yes, something a bit more intellectual.”
Nathen sighs in a suffering manner.
Nathen says, “Lord Darrin. I suppose I might be able to locate a book of limericks that would amuse him. He has all the tact and grace of blacksmith’s hammer.”
Haft frowns at this.
Lanisen slips inside, closing the heavy doors behind him. He hesitates briefly at the door, then ducks his head to both Nathen and Haft politely and makes his way toward a shelf of histories.
Nathen tucks the books of Jokes and Riddles under his left arm then turns his attention to the young man he met earlier. Favoring him with a thin smile
Haft murmurs hello as Lanisen walks past.
Nathen exclaims, “Ah! I see my young stalker has tracked me down. Looking for a good book of jokes as well? ”
Lanisen crouches down a little stiffly to inspect the lower shelves. He glances back toward the two men at this to see who Nathen might be referring to.
You mumble “There’s no need to give me away.”, to Nathen.
Haft mumbles “There’s … … … give me away.”, to Nathen.
Nathen mumbles “Of course. I know you how much your image can mean to a guardsman. It shall be our little secret.”, to Haft.
Nathen mumbles “… course. I … you … … your image … mean … a guardsman. It … … our little secret.”, to Haft.
Lanisen looks between them curiously, raising his eyebrows.
Haft rolls his eyes heavenward.
Nathen says “So have you come to library to finally use that head for more than cracking walnuts master Gani?” as he turns to regard Lanisen.
You ask, “Master who?”
Lanisen looks briefly lost, but as Haft asks the question before he can, he doesn’t bother saying anything.
Nathen looks to Haft lifting his hand palm up toward the young man with the scarred throat.
Nathen says, “have you not met Gani yet? Here I thought a guardsmen were famous for their powers of observation.”
Lanisen stands up again, pulling his lips between his teeth. He glances at Haft a little helplessly and says, “It’s, um, my name’s Lanisen, sir.”
Haft says, “I trust it’s not the squirrel we extracted from the bookshelves some months ago.”
Nathen shudders at Hafts querry. Then eyes Lanisen suspiciously.
Lanisen shifts his weight self-consciously.
Nathen says, “No no. We did not get around to findiing out the nasty little vermin’s name. But if you do not recognize Gani… are you suppose to be in the castle boy?””
Haft crosses his arms, waiting to be enlightened.
Lanisen stiffens slightly, his eyes darting to Nathen’s face in surprise and confusion. “Um…”
Nathen exclaims, “Out with it Gani! If that is your real name. Are you a spy or thief?”
Haft’s eyes widen slightly and he glances at Lanisen.
Lanisen’s face goes slightly pale, then red. He shifts his weight. “My name’s Lanisen, sir, I been comin’ in here for years.”
Haft asks, “You’re feeling quite all right, I suppose? Haven’t been dipping into the Calormene epics again?”
Nathen fluffy white brows come together like a hunting owl’s wings. As he eyes the young man down his nose suspiciously.
Nathen asks, “Lanisen? Why did you tell me your name was Gani then?”
Lanisen says, “I never, I never– it’s, it’s a little close, I guess, maybe you misheard.”
Haft says, “It’s no such thing.”
Nathen purses his lips in thought then shrugs dissmissively. “Perhaps. Though if you didn’t mumble I might have heard you the first time.”
Lanisen’s ears flush a little darker red. He ducks his head. “Sorry, sir.”
Haft rubs his chin as if waiting for something more.
Nathen grunts softly. “Well I’m glad we cleared that up.”
Lanisen says, “Yes, sir.”
Nathen asks, “How may I help you Lanisen. Perhaps a book on lockpicking or skulking?”
Haft says, “I wouldn’t mind a book on skulking.”
Lanisen draws a small breath. He takes a step back, and then begins for the door, murmuring, “Beg pardon.”
Nathen looks at Haft increduously. “Oh yes. A man lawered in iron garments would find such a volume very useful I’m sure.” Looking back at Lanisen he frowned as he moved to leave.
Haft says, “It’s mostly maille.”
Lanisen slips out as quietly as he came in, careful not to look at either Haft or Nathen.
Haft leans against a bookshelf. “You unsettled him, good and proper, Master Librarian.”
Lanisen walks out to the Hallway.
Nathen taps his chin smearing the jelly there more. “Hmmm… that was not my intent. Oh bohter!” Moves with purpose after the retreating young man.
Haft says, “Ten to one he’s halfway to the kennels by now.”
Nathen stops dead and gives Haft a puzzled look. “Is that where he works? Careful of my books Guardman Haft! They should not be handled like one of your axes.” With that he steps through the door.
Nathen walks out to the Hallway.
Name Time On Idle Name Time On Idle Name Time On Idle
Deonyc 00:04 44s Nathen 08:35 7s Lydia 1d 01:51 1d
Haft 00:58 0s Melody 1d 01:42 5m Blackclaw 1d 14:46 23h
Zephyrwind 03:55 3m
7 players are connected.