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  • Results 1 to 2 of 2
    1. #1
      Join Date
      Oct 2008
      Thumbs Up
      Received: 22
      Given: 6

      Closed The Path of Ascension

      0 Not allowed!
      His business with the council complete, Adair saw no use in delaying the start of his next task, turning heel and bustling back out the way he came, cloak and presence billowing out behind him in synchronous waves, as if the wake of his own power drove the flutter of the fabric. Theatrics, for certain, but 'muscles' were being flexed. Memory in some cases still puzzled itself together. A measure down the corridor, en route to the archive, he drew his presence back in to 'normal' parameters; one hand rested on the pommel of his father's sword, the other at the end of a natural arm swing as he moved.

      The archivist, Lord Nova Nothrael, had been assigned to Lucianus for the completion of his training. A tolerable assignment, Archivist Nothrael wasn't an animal no matter his beginnings, and had risen to a respectable position, for oversight of the Empire's vast collection of knowledge was not a light trust to be given. A learned man himself, Adair could see the appeal of associating with a man who spent much of his time amongst tomes, and the benefit - anyone and anything could be weighed upon the scale of whether or not the pursuit was worth his time, and if need be, his resources. He could hear whispers behind closed doors, curious, apprehensive glances peeking out from doors ajar just a crack, slipping shut the closer he came. Many of those eyes did go to the sword at his side when confusion was found in looking on his face. More whispers ensued, an irritating thing, and a thing easier to ignore as blocks of living quarters gave way to other sectors and, soon enough, the archive.

      "Lord Nothrael," he spoke, the refined Tapani inflection apparent in his voice: pacing, turn, rise, and fall of his words; he was glancing over how much more organised the place had become since he last set foot in it, early in his days as her apprentice, "I have need of your time."

      He shrugged off his cloak and draped it over his arm, continuing to look things over as he moved deeper into the archive. Thousands of years of knowledge, records, and more was gathered here, and yet, it somehow didn't rival the vast archive of species on Obroa-Skai. Perhaps that was memory in midst of the sort, perhaps it was truth. Either way, that place had equipped him with considerable anatomical knowledge of many different sapient beings.

    2. #2
      Nova's Avatar
      Nova is offline

      Gives Chase With Sharp Knives Brandished
      Likes To Stab With Knives And Words
      Post Monster: The Ever Hungry
      Sharp Pointy Death
      Join Date
      May 2010
      Thumbs Up
      Received: 26
      Given: 0

      0 Not allowed!
      The archives had been a disorganized mess. Tomes, scrolls, artifacts, set willy nilly and haphazardly on any space they could sit without falling. The place had had dust and cobwebs, the former Archivist had disappeared or was murdered, neither of which helped restore order. His first year as a Disciple saw him taking the mess in hand and as his rank rose, so too did his dominion over the temple. From that point he took over security and then the finances of the temple while Razielle was off waging her wars on misbegotten swamps. New slaves were acquired, new droids to replace the ones destroyed or left to break. The lesser duties that those above took for granted.

      He was proud of his work, even if few saw the virtue in it, but there was power in knowing who ate what, what servant was where, what camera or sentry was placed. The network of passageways was also quite a boon, which helped him see, hear and move without most the wiser. He set the last tome on the shelf and turned to leave out of one said passage when he heard the doors open.

      Lord Nothrael.” The cultured voice rang out “I have need of your time.

      It wasn’t every day that one heard a respectful tone. The lower ranks were still quite ruffian-like to the ruby eyed Lord. Most were considering he was raised among nobility and trained to walk among them. So to his ears the man in question was in lines as his equal compared to the majority who walked the halls. Instead of raising his voice Nova walked down the aisle and when he looked at the man he recalled hearing that this one was the new Master that had returned to the temple. Lucianus Adair, not so long ago he had been Razielle’s student, but no longer a lowly Disciple.

      The Imperial Lord, bowed his head respectfully “Master Adair… How may I be of service?

      While the Tapani’s accent flowed, Nova’s Imperial accent was crisp. Nova as always played his role perfectly, his expression neutral, his body language respectful without seeming submissive. What could he offer this man, he wondered. Though he kept the thought to himself. Nova was only slightly shorter than the Tapani Master and dressed in the robes of his rank instead of something he would wear outside the temple. Yet the longer he stood before the man, the more something unsettled him. Something he couldn't name, nor did he understand, he'd never quite felt this way towards anyone. Whatever it was set his proverbial hackles on edge.

      Last edited by Nova; 11-10-2017 at 09:39 PM.

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