"Vodk--..."
Eryl covered her mouth, looking at Ruarc. From his perspective it likely looked as though she were sizing him up, but truthfully it was the fact that she had almost forgotten him. Ruarc was a gentleman, and she, a fairly low-bred calvaryman's daughter, was about to request liquor mid-day. Eryl coughed and fanned herself, before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa.
"Veeling a bit under the weather, lemonade would do me just fine. The Vitamim C would go a long way." Eryl requested, before gathering in the details of the maps. She opened her mouth to speak, but restrained herself. Again, Ruarc was present. A strange social anxiety struck her in regards to the past she shared with him.
It took some fighting, made evident by a strained series of gesticulation, but she managed, "You've tracked them to Cairo? That would make sense. Librarians, the Cardiff type are drawn to long-lived veins of power, old places would naturally draw them in for new resting places. By this point the extant Librarians have memorized all the books of Cardiff and will try to find a new center of learning to capitalize on."
Eryl made a small, prim smile at that, trying not to look pointedly in Ruarc's direction. Then suddenly her confidence waned and she felt the need to add an addendum. "That is, assuming the Lamplighters are still primarily led by the Librarians."
[The Farm] A Calling & A Summons
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: A Calling & A Summons
It wasn't long before Jane returned with a mug of tea and two glasses of lemonade. After handing off the drinks, she smiled at Eryl. "That'll put a pep in yer step." She hoped it was a subtle enough warning for her friend.
She seated herself opposite the two of them at the recliner's edge, spiked lemonade in hand. "I had a... colleague, let's say, some years back. We had a run-in with some folks I now think were Librarians, er Lamplighters. He gamme a call not long ago, said he was passin through Cairo and wouldn ye know it, same ugly mugs walked right past him in the marketplace." She pointed to the section of city outlined in blue marker. "He figures they're somewhere round there. And that's where he saw em." She pointed toward the blue dot within the blue border along a narrow market street.
Jane refreshed herself while her companions studied the map. "Now here's the thang. I'd love to do this quick n quiet like, but it's the Lamplighters. Super secret, super paranoid buncha tweeds. As soon as one er two turn up dead er missin, everythin gets harder."
"So we go. We recon. We figure out where they're hidin. Then we start settin ambushes roun the place. Get em while they're comin home to hide. Give ourselves maybe an hour o that, then we raid it."
"And jus in case I wasn't clear, I mean raid. If it ain't one o us, It ain't comin out alive. We take what we want n then we set the real trap. Wait, maybe three, four days. Their friends show up, and go to investigate. An we burn it all down with em inside."
She finished her drink while they processed her plan.
She seated herself opposite the two of them at the recliner's edge, spiked lemonade in hand. "I had a... colleague, let's say, some years back. We had a run-in with some folks I now think were Librarians, er Lamplighters. He gamme a call not long ago, said he was passin through Cairo and wouldn ye know it, same ugly mugs walked right past him in the marketplace." She pointed to the section of city outlined in blue marker. "He figures they're somewhere round there. And that's where he saw em." She pointed toward the blue dot within the blue border along a narrow market street.
Jane refreshed herself while her companions studied the map. "Now here's the thang. I'd love to do this quick n quiet like, but it's the Lamplighters. Super secret, super paranoid buncha tweeds. As soon as one er two turn up dead er missin, everythin gets harder."
"So we go. We recon. We figure out where they're hidin. Then we start settin ambushes roun the place. Get em while they're comin home to hide. Give ourselves maybe an hour o that, then we raid it."
"And jus in case I wasn't clear, I mean raid. If it ain't one o us, It ain't comin out alive. We take what we want n then we set the real trap. Wait, maybe three, four days. Their friends show up, and go to investigate. An we burn it all down with em inside."
She finished her drink while they processed her plan.
Re: A Calling & A Summons
A cocked eyebrow betrayed Ruarc’s curiosity. He’d never heard Jane call someone outside of Safeholme and its affiliates a colleague. Honestly, if the news had come from anyone at the school but Jane he would have been hard pressed to believe that a random colleague bumped into some Lamplighters in a random marketplace in Cairo, but hey stranger things have happened. Then there was the matter of the plan. It was straightforward and brutal, but he wasn’t about to back out simply the killing was premeditated rather than in the heat of the moment. The Lamplighters were malicious bastards who were willing to kill kids just to send a message. This was entirely within the scope of his responsibilities as a Keeper, and while it was outside his jurisdiction it was in a grey area for the Order so he shouldn’t need to worry about litigation.
“We can’t allow them to go to ground, but we should also keep a secondary goal of finding leads for other safehouses or information about its members,” Ruarc suggested as he sipped from the mug idly. “Granted, if one of my safehouses were to be hit, I would go to ground; so the value would likely be academic. What do you think, Miss Professional?”
“We can’t allow them to go to ground, but we should also keep a secondary goal of finding leads for other safehouses or information about its members,” Ruarc suggested as he sipped from the mug idly. “Granted, if one of my safehouses were to be hit, I would go to ground; so the value would likely be academic. What do you think, Miss Professional?”
Re: A Calling & A Summons
Eryl wiggled with content when Jane got her exactly what she wanted. With both hands she took the drink gratefully, a gleeful little smile on her face as she took her first sip. She continued to sip, listening patiently and quietly to Jane’s explanation. The details of the plan seemed sound, but there also seemed to be some things missing from the structure. Small details that she was sure Jane would get to, but didn’t, so Eryl chose to wait, sipping her lemonade in silence.
Good glory, this is good.
Then, Ruarc began to speak, but Eryl stared off at greenery through the window. She was listening, still passively gathering all the details of the situation. The horses called to her, though. Not really, but her heart beat for a good ride about the ranch. She came back to the room when Ruarc asked for a Ms. Professional.
Not aware of another person’s presence, Eryl brought her cup up to her mouth and looked around the room for the other woman.
Then she noticed that Flynn was looking at her, and she sputtered and started coughing as a little fiery vodka and citric acid burned her throat. She exchanged looks between Jane and Ruarc, gesturing at herself meekly. It struck her that her standing with Flynn was becoming more evident, and, unfortunately, appearing justified.
“Ahu-um…” Eryl struck her chest with her fist, “Mr. Flynn makes an excellent point. Librarians have been avoiding persecution since the days of the Romans. Although there are none still alive from that era, there are some who still remember the Geats, the French and the Church of England. True Librarians will not establish a safehouse, but a safe-identity, usually a child they’ve marked as a pseudo-inheritor.”
The triclops took a sip of her lemonade as that sunk in, “Few of what we may see in a place like Cairo are True Librarians, but Inheritors and Cultists. They represent the vast majority of the Library of Cardiff, by extension the Lamplighters, and will be more susceptible to these shock and awe tactics.”
More firmly said was Eryl’s account on defense, “Hexers do not hunt men, but when they did it was important to consider countermeasures. Inscription magic in the Cardiff-style relies almost entirely on curses, and we will need wards tuned to counter curses or we will share a fate much like Mr. Caxton in the opening salvo of our operation. Further, if we do not strike quickly enough, there runs the risk that our enemy will resort to a Bloodmist spell to abscond.”
Another sip, “Runes that suppress or control blood magic would help disrupt any preemptive escapes. In a hunt that targets a pack, it is often important to determine members of the pack that have the most value, and strike those targets first. In this case, Inheritors will be in high-demand due to the loss of the Library, and thus the more they lose the less likely a True Librarian will be able to ignore our assault, and more likely that they will play to our movements than the other way around.”
Finished, she went back to her lemonade, looking at Ruarc over the rim of her glass.
Good glory, this is good.
Then, Ruarc began to speak, but Eryl stared off at greenery through the window. She was listening, still passively gathering all the details of the situation. The horses called to her, though. Not really, but her heart beat for a good ride about the ranch. She came back to the room when Ruarc asked for a Ms. Professional.
Not aware of another person’s presence, Eryl brought her cup up to her mouth and looked around the room for the other woman.
Then she noticed that Flynn was looking at her, and she sputtered and started coughing as a little fiery vodka and citric acid burned her throat. She exchanged looks between Jane and Ruarc, gesturing at herself meekly. It struck her that her standing with Flynn was becoming more evident, and, unfortunately, appearing justified.
“Ahu-um…” Eryl struck her chest with her fist, “Mr. Flynn makes an excellent point. Librarians have been avoiding persecution since the days of the Romans. Although there are none still alive from that era, there are some who still remember the Geats, the French and the Church of England. True Librarians will not establish a safehouse, but a safe-identity, usually a child they’ve marked as a pseudo-inheritor.”
The triclops took a sip of her lemonade as that sunk in, “Few of what we may see in a place like Cairo are True Librarians, but Inheritors and Cultists. They represent the vast majority of the Library of Cardiff, by extension the Lamplighters, and will be more susceptible to these shock and awe tactics.”
More firmly said was Eryl’s account on defense, “Hexers do not hunt men, but when they did it was important to consider countermeasures. Inscription magic in the Cardiff-style relies almost entirely on curses, and we will need wards tuned to counter curses or we will share a fate much like Mr. Caxton in the opening salvo of our operation. Further, if we do not strike quickly enough, there runs the risk that our enemy will resort to a Bloodmist spell to abscond.”
Another sip, “Runes that suppress or control blood magic would help disrupt any preemptive escapes. In a hunt that targets a pack, it is often important to determine members of the pack that have the most value, and strike those targets first. In this case, Inheritors will be in high-demand due to the loss of the Library, and thus the more they lose the less likely a True Librarian will be able to ignore our assault, and more likely that they will play to our movements than the other way around.”
Finished, she went back to her lemonade, looking at Ruarc over the rim of her glass.
Last edited by Kokuten on Thu Aug 04, 2022 3:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: A Calling & A Summons
Hearing two of her most trusted companions jump right into planning without hesitation bolstered some of her waning confidence. For a few days Jane had been wondering if she was merely projecting inner chaos onto the world around her. But if the warm-hearted Druid and the kindly Hexer didn’t bat an eye at the presumption of extreme violence, it reassured her there was merit to this plan.
And the Calling was strong. She had been wrestling with it for weeks, trying to understand its strange and aimless pull. In the past it had always been so clear. Vanquish the warlock. Ride West. Save the shrine maiden. it was never words, so much as an intuitive understanding— a need, really to be somewhere, knowing that her purpose would be clear upon arrival.
Now the Calling was clear again. Violence, for now, was exactly what the doctor ordered. And these two unlikely assistants were meant to aid her quest.
“Flynn, ye ain’t pretty when yer petty. Focus.” It was barely a reprimand. She was focused on the map as she spoke, trying to narrow down possibilities, but there were simply too many variables and unknowns for the time being.
“What makes them inheritors n cultists inferior? Aside from the poor job titles.”
And the Calling was strong. She had been wrestling with it for weeks, trying to understand its strange and aimless pull. In the past it had always been so clear. Vanquish the warlock. Ride West. Save the shrine maiden. it was never words, so much as an intuitive understanding— a need, really to be somewhere, knowing that her purpose would be clear upon arrival.
Now the Calling was clear again. Violence, for now, was exactly what the doctor ordered. And these two unlikely assistants were meant to aid her quest.
“Flynn, ye ain’t pretty when yer petty. Focus.” It was barely a reprimand. She was focused on the map as she spoke, trying to narrow down possibilities, but there were simply too many variables and unknowns for the time being.
“What makes them inheritors n cultists inferior? Aside from the poor job titles.”
Re: A Calling & A Summons
"To understand that, you must understand the structure of the Library, quite simple, actually."
Eryl set her drink down and tugged out her wand. With a tap, there stood three small mini-Eryls, floating in front of her. She tapped the head of the right-most mini-Eryl, and it grabbed its head.
"The bottom rung are the Cultists. It is actually a derogatory term that has come into prominence within the last hundred years. In my time. -- In the time of my father, really, we called them the Unworthy." As she spoke, the cultist mini-Eryl sat, staring boredly into space, "They perform meager and laborious duties and are often counted as bodies in whatever is carried out for the Library. They are either weak, unmotivated or both, and are not considered candidates for Inheritance."
When the wand came over the middle mini-Eryl, it took out a knife, and drove it into the right-most mini-Eryl, casting a spell with their blood and killing it. "Then come the Inheritors, as the name implies, they are chosen for the rite of Inheritance, they are known as the Worthy. They are typically more serious students of knowledge, more powerful, and prime, physical candidates. Most Librarians have at least two Inheritors as apprentices.”
At that, Eryl drove her wand through the left-most mini-Eryl, killing the finely dressed version of the other two. “This brings us to the Librarians, or as they are deemed, the Immortals.”
The remaining mini-Eryl entered into a daze, before a sudden rush of energy came over it and an evil smile spread on its face.
“True Librarians will enter into the body of one of their inheritors on death. The soul of the inheritor is subsumed into a form that pleases the Librarian and supports their continued existence. As such, most True Librarians are many centuries old. Taking over the bodies of younger inheritors, generation after generation.”
Eryl stabbed this mockery of herself as well, killing it and dispelling the illusion. “Hundreds of years of exploitation and abuse, in a nutshell.”
Eryl set her drink down and tugged out her wand. With a tap, there stood three small mini-Eryls, floating in front of her. She tapped the head of the right-most mini-Eryl, and it grabbed its head.
"The bottom rung are the Cultists. It is actually a derogatory term that has come into prominence within the last hundred years. In my time. -- In the time of my father, really, we called them the Unworthy." As she spoke, the cultist mini-Eryl sat, staring boredly into space, "They perform meager and laborious duties and are often counted as bodies in whatever is carried out for the Library. They are either weak, unmotivated or both, and are not considered candidates for Inheritance."
When the wand came over the middle mini-Eryl, it took out a knife, and drove it into the right-most mini-Eryl, casting a spell with their blood and killing it. "Then come the Inheritors, as the name implies, they are chosen for the rite of Inheritance, they are known as the Worthy. They are typically more serious students of knowledge, more powerful, and prime, physical candidates. Most Librarians have at least two Inheritors as apprentices.”
At that, Eryl drove her wand through the left-most mini-Eryl, killing the finely dressed version of the other two. “This brings us to the Librarians, or as they are deemed, the Immortals.”
The remaining mini-Eryl entered into a daze, before a sudden rush of energy came over it and an evil smile spread on its face.
“True Librarians will enter into the body of one of their inheritors on death. The soul of the inheritor is subsumed into a form that pleases the Librarian and supports their continued existence. As such, most True Librarians are many centuries old. Taking over the bodies of younger inheritors, generation after generation.”
Eryl stabbed this mockery of herself as well, killing it and dispelling the illusion. “Hundreds of years of exploitation and abuse, in a nutshell.”
Re: [The Farm] A Calling & A Summons
There was little evidence of Ruarc being phased by the rebuke beyond a corner of his mouth tensing briefly before he sipped at his tea. The jab was warranted, so he didn’t press the matter further. Instead he leaned against the arm of the couch and focused on the explanation of the Library hierarchy. The Library had always been a subject of curiosity to him. Comparisons had been drawn between it and the Order by a handful of individuals, but the more he learned the less he could see merit in those comparisons. Every member of the Druid Order was valued, and a superior would never sacrifice a druid so callously. To think Drysi had been dragged into that racket. He was all the more grateful she had become his protege.
“I genuinely apologize if this comes across as uncouth,” Ruarc started into his own question. “Are all Librarians triclops? And do we need to account for third eyes being a factor?”
“I genuinely apologize if this comes across as uncouth,” Ruarc started into his own question. “Are all Librarians triclops? And do we need to account for third eyes being a factor?”
Re: [The Farm] A Calling & A Summons
"It certainly seems that way, does it not?" answered Eryl with a sad smile. The question stung her in a sensitive place that Jane had recently cut as well, unintentionally, but she did her best to bury it. "All werewolves rove in packs, all vampires to their bloodlines and to the triclopsi go their library."
She had rested her chin in her palm, pausing for a moment to contemplate if that had been a retort. Among the concerns of life, death and the unending sequences of events that put her in between the two, Eryl's mind was terribly preoccupied with the desire to belong. Would Ruarc appreciate a good rebuttal? Perhaps just cut straight to the point? Maybe something of the strong personality that might appeal to that public notion that he liked to gather titanic women around him.
Instead, Eryl ended up just laughing, nervously.
"Ahem. Well," she cleared her throat as she screamed internally. "The Library is only mostly homogeneous. Triclopsi are valued for what one may call magical throughput, other types of people are less desired. There are humans among them, but in lesser status to the more powerful."
She touched her top most brow, "The eyes… Well the eyes are unpredictable, it depends on what sight struck them in puberty. Mine is, as you know, seeing into the surface thoughts of others. It is only just sight though, and can not directly cause us harm, Mr. Flynn. Erm, Ruarc?"
Her smile became a bit hopeful, "May I call you Ruarc?"
She had rested her chin in her palm, pausing for a moment to contemplate if that had been a retort. Among the concerns of life, death and the unending sequences of events that put her in between the two, Eryl's mind was terribly preoccupied with the desire to belong. Would Ruarc appreciate a good rebuttal? Perhaps just cut straight to the point? Maybe something of the strong personality that might appeal to that public notion that he liked to gather titanic women around him.
Instead, Eryl ended up just laughing, nervously.
"Ahem. Well," she cleared her throat as she screamed internally. "The Library is only mostly homogeneous. Triclopsi are valued for what one may call magical throughput, other types of people are less desired. There are humans among them, but in lesser status to the more powerful."
She touched her top most brow, "The eyes… Well the eyes are unpredictable, it depends on what sight struck them in puberty. Mine is, as you know, seeing into the surface thoughts of others. It is only just sight though, and can not directly cause us harm, Mr. Flynn. Erm, Ruarc?"
Her smile became a bit hopeful, "May I call you Ruarc?"
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [The Farm] A Calling & A Summons
Well, known variables in their third sight was better than walking in with that hog loose. Ignoring their banter like the proper schoolmarm she was, Jane continued. "That's a bog I'd hoped to void, but ain't no helpin it. So we got blood n soul magic, an a fancy fer dealin with devils. Not a party I wanna jus wander inta, but it's my party, I spose..." She leaned back in the recliner and focused on her lemonade awhile.
"Well, guess there ain't much more to it til we get there. How's next weekend lookin?"
"Well, guess there ain't much more to it til we get there. How's next weekend lookin?"
Re: [The Farm] A Calling & A Summons
"Laoise will be biting at my back with cutting close to the festival like that," Ruarc responded thoughtfully. He was leaned back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling while he spoke, and seemed to be running through a mental schedule. "I'll make it work though. Laoise can stay behind as my proxy for the event. Next weekend will work just fine. Do we have transportation lined up?"
Seeming to think on another matter for a brief moment, the Irishman shifted his attention over to Eryl.
"You may call me Ruarc, yes."
Seeming to think on another matter for a brief moment, the Irishman shifted his attention over to Eryl.
"You may call me Ruarc, yes."