Board Thread:Random RP/@comment-26444332-20170731031801/@comment-26444332-20170922053024

'Alize Berthier, formerly of Servais, now of Arctos.' she replies, a distinct accent in her voice, looking carefully over at Slade. She immediately appears overworked and underpaid to them, a sudden insight. 'We do not normally allow those who do not have an affinity for magecraft into our walls...'

'You will in this instance, however.' Azarias says, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and she nods hastily. 'Of course, of course. Anything you say, Saint Azarias.'

The Half-elf sighs before briefly conversing in a different language, and she nods. 'If you wish, professor.' Azarias turns to them. 'Keeper Berthier will take you to the library; I need to speak to a few people in private. Try not to disturb the peace, hm? These mages aren't of your calibre, so you must be especially respectful of their efforts.'

Azarias then promptly walks away, and Alize shows them to the library, keeping up a running commentary as she walks. 'So, you've come with the most powerful mage, Demon Saint Azarias- excuse me, Professor Snow. Quel génie, what I wouldn't give to study under him. I hope you will pardon my use of my own tongue. We have many natives of Servais in northern Arctos; many of us came as families with the mercenaries fighting here.'

They round a corner, and she continues to speak. 'I myself came to study Arctosi magecraft as part of my research into nature interference. Quelle folie! That was three years ago. I cannot leave because the fighting has grown fiercer in the southern plains; many chimaeras were set loose there last spring. Normal people and mages cannot hope to contend with such monstrous creatures. You are lucky to have the professor; he is quite powerful. The most powerful mage of them all, though one day I shall hope to see Arlen Crowley with my own eyes and be able to speak to him.'

She shows them a door, allowing them to enter into another building. The inside is dark, and when their eyes adjust they are greeted with stacks upon stacks of books and loose papers, shelves packed to bursting- and yet it isn't even a thousandth of the mess Crowley's castle was. Several mages are inside, men and women, overcoats folded over their chairs and vests holding random odds and ends. Several are writing feverishly, some are reading, while one, a girl around Artoria's age, is reading from a page and apparently attempting to emulate a casting, as her magic circle opens and sparks of Flow fizzle in the air. Berthier waves her hands.

'Quel imbécile! I told you before, no casting in the library!' she shouts, earning herself the stares of everyone in the room. 'You are not the one that has to repair this library and her contents every time someone is foolish enough to hazard a spell they do not know!'

The girl quietly folds her hands. 'I apologize, Adept Berthier.' Berthier sighs. 'Come here, cher. Magecraft is not an art to be practiced haphazardly. It should be researched and applied when it is necessary to do so. There is nothing wrong with practice, but can you not use the grounds for such a purpose? We set them up so that you could.'

While the girl walks off to collect her things, Berthier sighs and turns to them. 'That was one of our newer mages, Lisette Arpin- she does not yet know the proper time and place in which to use magecraft. The formal schools in Solaria are all closed, you see, so she must make do with learning magecraft on her own until someone with a master's license is willing to take her on.' She gestures around. 'Please, feel free to use our library. Professor Snow wished for you to have some reading and time to study and prepare yourselves before you, ah, "dive into the pits of hell" as he put it.'