The Library

"The Library" is a BOTGD 2 thread written on [IRL DATE].
== Summary ==
Faysal finds Clover's library and asks her for information on the Warden. Darien shows up as well, having been unknowingly tracking Faysal, and Clover recognizes him and attacks him. Faysal calms everyone down and asks for both sides of their story. He offers protection to Darien in exchange for helping him find the Warden. Clover proposes that she goes along.
== Full Text ==
Faysal/Sol: Faysal awoke early the next morning at the King Fishyface Tavern, the modest rented room was sparsely decorated with a portrait of some ruler, a flower pot, a bowl of water, and a small mirror on one wall. He took the opportunity to freshen up, shaving back his beard that had grown ragged over the past 8 months of travel and sat back down on the rickety bed. “Alright, so, no leads at a bar. Figures.”
“The people here are full of tales and folklore, and it seems very few here even interacted with my sister.”
“So, what’s the next step? Haligan?”
“I think it would be wise to check the library we passed first, Faysal. Haligan is another two week journey and I don’t think we are quite finished here.”
“Right, library. Cool cool cool cool cool cool.”
A few hours later Faysal was on the front steps of the library, he cautiously eased open the door stooping beneath the door frame and announcing his presence. “Hello?”
Clover Rose Verdile: Clover looks up from the papers on her desk,flicking an ear towards the front of the library. Her desk is in an out-of-the-way corner of the building, where she can work quietly when there are patrons strolling the shelves. This time of the day, the library is completely empty, leaving Clover to her own devices.
“Come in!” she calls, pushing her chair back from the desk and heading towards the front of the library.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal watched a small, bushy haired, half-breed appear from somewhere else in the library, “Hello there!” he gives a small wave before clasping his hands together. “I’m looking for information about someone and was advised to check here. Oh! I’m Faysal, by the way.”
Clover: Rocking back on her heels, Clover stares up at Faysal. She practically has to crane her neck to see his face, and her tail swishes back and forth a few times as she takes him in. “Yes, right,” she says, collecting herself. “I’m Clover,” she supplies. “I might have some records, depending on who you’re looking for.”
Faysal/Sol: Faysal reddened in the cheeks as he realized how ridiculous he might sound asking, “Well you see, I’m looking for the Warden.”
Clover: “The… Warden.” Clover blinks a few times, trying to shake the memories that the title brings rushing back. There’s a pang in her chest as she considers it all, everyone they’d lost… and how their once great enemy was now their sworn protector. “I… I should have something,” she says shakily. 
As she walks back through the library towards where she keeps the old archives, she flattens her ears against her head, blinking back the tears that sting at her eyes. Keep it together, just keep it together, she repeats in her mind, making it a mantra to cling to.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal follows her, looking at the rows of books, oblivious to the emotions Clover was experiencing just in front of him. His eyes scanned the books before him, and oddly enough he recognized a few of the titles. “I know this may be a long shot, but, did you know her personally?”
Clover: Clover flinches. “I… did,” she says slowly. “She, um… I was part of the rebellion. We crossed paths, so to speak.” She’s reluctant to admit to being possessed by the Warden for a time, especially to a complete stranger. She hadn’t even liked telling her own children about it, when they asked.
“So, er, some of the books may be helpful. I should have some records that never got put into books, too. I’m not sure where I’d have to look, they got a bit jumbled up after–everything.” She’d never really gotten to sorting them out, either, because there was always something else that seemed more important at the time.
Faysal/Sol: “How long ago was the rebellion?” His expression changed to a sheepish one,  he nervously tapped his fingers together. “Sorry, I don’t know much of what’s happened recently, I’ve been having some memory issues.”
Clover: She lets out a humorless chuckle. “I know what you mean,” she says under her breath. “It was… gods, thirty years ago, now. Give or take a few years.” Clover pauses, giving Faysal a curious look. “Why are you looking for the Warden?” she asks.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal laughs, “Thirty years ago? That was three years before I was born, I’m pretty sure I would’ve heard rumors at least of a rebellion and an entire building moving.”
Clover: “Well, unless I imagined the last twenty-four years of watching my son grow up…” Clover trails off with a shrug. She stares off into space, blinking for a moment. “Melira’s son is nine years old,” she whispers to herself. “Gods, I feel old,” she groans.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal watches her speak, skeptically, before it clicks. “Clover… What year is it?”
Clover: “1070,” she says simply. 
Faysal/Sol: Faysal inhales and grasps at the closes bookshelf as though the wind was just knocked out of him. “Excuse me? It’s not… like… 1040 or something?”
Clover: “No…” Clover says, watching him with concern. “Are you… are you alright?” she asks. She starts to reach a hand out to rest it on his arm before stopping herself. It’s intended as a comforting gesture, but she doesn’t know if Faysal will take it as such.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal starts counting on his fingers and muttering under his breath, “fifty, fifty-one.. No, that can’t be right.” He starts counting again and paces a short moment before a realization washes over him. He looks back at Clover and meets her gaze. “If you’re right that means I’m fifty-eight years old, Clover.”
Clover: Clover tilts her head, running over the math. “That’s… I want to say that’s impossible, but the rebellion taught me that nothing is impossible. I’ve watched men come back from the dead, I watched a–a, a monster, that used to be my friend, tear through Perch Hall and level it, I watched my best friend lose his soul and then get it back… There is nothing in this world that is truly impossible.” She frowns, her tail flicking back and forth. “But how did it happen, that’s the real question.”
Faysal/Sol: “I don’t… exactly know. But, I might be able to answer that, and your question about the Warden, I just need to know something.” Faysal leaned in close, looking directly into Clover’s eyes. “You’ve met the Warden so you know a bit about demons I presume. Can you keep a secret?” 
Clover: “I don’t know much,” Clover begins, meeting Faysal’s gaze steadily. “But yes. I can.” 
Faysal/Sol: A door softly creaks in the background, Faysal doesn’t seem to notice as he begins to speak. “Sol, can you explain what happened… and a bit about your sister?”
A tendril of energy prods open the flap to his satchel, “I don’t know if now is the best time, Faysal. We might have a visitor.” Her voice came across as a harsh whisper to the two of them.
Darien Whiteland: At the entrance to the library, an older man poked his head in, which was covered by the brim of a rather silly-looking wide sun hat, which sagged at the sides as it was tied tightly underneath his chin. He tilted the hat back, letting it hang just behind his neck, and blinked in the change from bright sunlight to dim interior. He relaxed a little bit at the sight of so many books; it was immensely comforting. But his heart was still pounding a bit as he sensed the most recent trace of what he was searching for, in this very building. Perhaps the curator might have information pertaining to the…odd remnants of magical energy that had him so desperately curious.
He remained quiet for the moment, strolling across the wooden floor to the nearest shelf with a few clunks of his walking staff, examining the bindings, but with his abilities, beginning to mentally scan the dark alleyways that the mazy shelves created, looking for answers.
Clover: Clover stares at Faysal’s satchel for a long moment before giving herself a shake. “Er, we’ll discuss that later,” she whispers. Her ear flicks in the direction of the footsteps. “Excuse me for one moment,” she says at a normal volume, turning towards the front. 
“Hello?” she calls.
Darien: Nearly jumping out of his skin, he retracted his mental faculties and shook his head, his spectacles slipping slightly down his nose. “O-oh, hello? Might you be the librarian of…this place?” He didn’t really want to meet anyone quite yet, he’d barely walked in the door, but he might as well answer. Like a human being would.
Clover: Clover steps around the bookcase, getting a better look at the man before her. Her tail idly sways back and forth as she tries to place him–he looks familiar, for some reason she can’t name. “Yeah, I am,” she tells him.
Darien: Hm. She’s…I don’t know. He hadn’t run his usual background checks on this place before coming in. That might have been a bad idea.
He bowed slightly at the waist. “Apologies, I don’t mean to intrude, or waste too much of your time, but I am…a man of magical sciences, and I happened to be in need of some guidance.”
Clover: “Well, I have no magical abilities myself, but…” Clover frowns, still trying to place him. “I might have some books that could help,” she offers. “They’d be… this way.” She motions for him to follow, disappearing into the sea of shelves. Something tells her not to lead this man towards Faysal–and luckily the books on magic aren’t next to the books on history.
Darien: “Ah! Well, you see…” He hurried to keep pace with her, even though she wasn’t leading him towards anything of his interest. “Rather than written research, I was in search of something more…paracausal. I’ve been tracking something very strange, recently. I was curious if you’d seen…well…if you had seen any curious displays of magic here, recently? Some kind of odd…” He wracked his brain in an attempt to describe what he was looking for without too much jargon. “Lightning-y…energy…perhaps?” Oh dear gods, he was terrible at this. He wanted to go. But he had to know if she had any leads. He was burning with curiosity.
Faysal/Sol: Faysal’s eyes narrowed as he listened in from the next shelf over. Lightning was just up his alley, whoever was here was looking for him. “Well, I can probably take whoever this is.” He thought to himself before stepping around the shelf and clearing his throat. “Excuse me, Clover, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
Clover: “Hm?” Clover turns to look over her shoulder. “No, no,” she assures him, managing a smile. Gods, who is this man? I swear I’ve met him. “What is it?”
Faysal/Sol: “Oh I just couldn’t help but overhear something about lightning magic happening? I have an… interest in magic of the sort.” Faysal’s words came across with a hint of antagonism. He gave a subtle wink to Clover before fully locking eyes with Darien.
Darien: Ah.
“Uh…” He moved his stick to be more in front of himself, the end of it jittering across the floor. Maybe Darien could take down this man’s mental defenses–but how soon could he do that before he was snapped over his knee like a branch?
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at the entrance. “Clearly what I’m looking for is not here,” he said with a nervous, fake laugh. “So…perhaps I should just run my tests outside and be on my way.” He readied his mind into defensive spikes, just in case.
Clover: All at once, it clicks. Clover has met this man before–and now she can put a name to his face: Darien. The man in charge of the Grounded Dungeon. And, to her mind, more importantly, the man who created Tezz’s feral side.
“You,” she growls, fur standing on end. “You bastard!” she screeches, launching herself at Darien, uncaring of the stick. “What are you doing here?! Why can’t High Central just leave us alone? They’ve taken everything from us already!” By this time, she’s reached Darien, and she reaches up to claw at him.
Darien: Like an arrow launched from a poorly-strung bow, Darien’s mental lance completely missed his target, flailing off into space. He knocked her arms away with his stick, but in his panic in doing so, he lost his balance and tripped backwards into a bookshelf. “St-stop!” he yelped, covering his head with an arm as a few tomes toppled around him. “I’ll go! I’ll go! I’m sorry!”
This made for the…thirteenth time someone holding a grudge had recognized him. Fourteenth? He was starting to lose track. He’d gotten very good at avoiding the aggressively public rebels. He never thought to check this small nook in the middle of a sea of other villages. Damn his luck. And damn his odds against both this furious half-breed and the massively-built man behind her.
Clover: “Oh no,” Clover snarls. “You’re not going anywhere.” Distantly, she’s aware of Faysal moving behind her, but her focus is purely on Darien. “My husband is dead because of your people.” 
Faysal drags her back, but over the rushing in her ears, she barely hears him bellowing “Enough!”
“And you,” she shrieks, “you gave him a feral side that nearly killed both of us!”
Darien: Dizzy with relief at the intervention, Darien crab-walked sideways along the bookshelf, his hand feeling for the end of it, ready to bolt. He sputtered and floundered; as usual, he had neither excuses nor satisfying explanations for the accusations. It never mattered to them. He could never find fault with them, either.
“I don’t have anything for you,” he panted, as he slowly crept along the shelf. “I don’t have anything you want to hear. High Central is dead. I was kidnapped by demons and given a second chance. I haven’t been anywhere near power since!”
Faysal/Sol: “Alright, that is enough!” Faysal had one arm wrapped around Clover, keeping her from murdering the strange man in front of him. With his free hand he reached out and grabbed Darien’s shoulder. “I didn’t come to a library to be a bouncer. I’m here for answers, and the two of you are only giving me more questions. Clover, for now I need this man alive. Whoever the Hel you are, I need to know what you know about demons.”
Clover: With her feet dangling two feet off the ground, Clover can only glare are Darien. “If it weren’t for him and his people, Tezz would still be here today,” she growls. “But…” she takes a deep breath. “If you need him, he can… stay…” she forces out, looking like the words are causing her physical pain.
Darien: “I’m not staying anywhere!” Darien struggled to get out of the man’s iron grip, sweating profusely. The name “Tezz” made him feel like he was going to be sick; he knew who this was. “I was only tracking an unusual spike of arc energ...I didn’t want to...demons!? Why the Hel do you want to know about the demons??” He was practically vibrating with panic.
Faysal/Sol: “Not to be disrespectful, but I don’t think you’re going anywhere either.” Faysal narrowed his eyes and made a motion with his neck towards a set of table and chairs towards the center of the library. 
The three of them sat down, awkwardly, and Faysal finally addressed the other two after the tension had died down a bit. “Clover, whatever history is here I would like set aside for a moment. I know I’m still mostly a stranger but I need this, and I don’t plan on being stopped. As for you, sir, you say you were in the company of demons, correct?” 
“‘Company’ is putting it lightly.”
“Which ones? Did you know the Warden?”
Darien: Darien squinted at the still-unknown man over his glasses, his hands fidgeting. His consciousness hovered near the man’s, but he retracted at the last second, still nervous. He barked out a short laugh. “Knew her? I made a stupid deal with her mother. I imprisoned the Warden–poorly–and I paid the price when she broke free.” His eyes darted quickly to Clover, and then back to the man’s. He drummed his fingers on the table. “We…haven’t talked since then. Or interacted at all, really. I stay out of her way, she stays out of mine.”
Clover: Clover’s jaw drops open, and she stares at Darien. “You–you’re the reason she was in the Dungeon?” She groans, dragging her hands across her face. “Gods, you fucking idiot.”
Darien: “I–!” Darien took a breath and lowered his hand from where he was about to thump it against the table in irritation. “I know,” he said quietly. “Like I said, I paid for it with…everything. The Archon made sure of that.”
Faysal/Sol: Faysal opened his mouth to speak, raising his hand he only got out the word, “I-”
“You knew Archon…” Sol’s voice drifted from Faysal’s satchel, a melancholy tone rang through her voice. “I don’t suppose you know what happened to him? Or maybe Shaper? I haven’t felt their presence in this plane since…” Sol drifted above the line of the table, her cyan aura shifting to add motes of purples and red. “I get the sense that you’re a very important piece in what happened to my family. Who are you?”
Darien: Clutching the edge of the table, Darien lashed out in panic at the alien being that spoke to his mind, but it was clear she was…impenetrable. And a demon. That seemed important. It added to the dragging sense of dread deep in the pit of his stomach, a familiar sensation learned from weeks of living among such massive pools of energy.
A curious vessel emerged from behind the man, and his nerves only heightened. He opened his dry mouth, closed it, and went over her words in his mind. He blinked. “Why, he’s…he’s gone, the last I heard,” he mused. “They left us in Bloedrest. They didn’t explain to me, of all people, why they did so, but…I believe I pieced together that it was…to…avenge the Shaper. Ragnarok, I believe it was.” He looked quizzically, sadly at her, and he went to look at Clover, but somehow, his gaze got dragged back to the wood finish of the table.
“Tezzeret came to lead us out of the Demon Lands,” he murmured. “I would still be there if it wasn’t for him.”
Clover: “Why?” Clover asks, pouring every ounce of questioning and heartbreak from the last twenty years into the question. It nearly comes out as a sob. “Why did he save you?” Tears start to gather in her eyes, and she bites her lip, fighting to maintain her composure. Why do you get to live when he didn’t?
Darien: Darien’s fingernails were nearly pressing holes into his palms. “I didn’t ask him to come. I didn’t ask for any of it.” His voice was hollow. “Sometimes I think–no, I know–that I deserved to waste in Bloedrest rather than be given a new slate. But things changed. The Shaper was killed, the Archon died, I was rescued with the half-breeds, and now nearly all the demons are asleep, High Central has fallen to shreds, and I am left here, wondering where I should be.”
He looked at Faysal and Sol, pressing his lips together. “Maybe this is it. I now know I was tracking you–and it seems you have a goal in mind.” The last part he directed to the demon, though his voice grew a little tremulous while doing so. “You are…a sibling, yes? One of…them?”
Faysal/Sol: “Yes, I am the eldest child of H’zola. I am Sol’dha, The Matriarch.” Faysal nodded, his knowledge of Sol and her family was vast due to their time together. “Our goal is only to find The Warden. We’ve been tracking her for months after we left the dungeon containing us. We need answers, without her, we don’t exactly know what to do next.” 
“Clover was helping us find some information on my sister before you found us. But now, I’m very curious about you. Clover, what do you know of this man? You’ve accused this man of many things, but neither Faysal nor I know exactly what those things entail. I think we have a lot to learn from the both of you, from both of your perspectives.” 
Clover: Clover breathes in sharply, tapping her fingers against the tabletop. She struggles to marshal her thoughts into something that doesn’t sound like an accusation, and falls utterly flat.
“He was behind the dungeon,” she says in a monotone, her eyes on the weird grain of the tabletop. “Behind all of them. Or… most of them,” she corrects reluctantly. “He created or supported policies against half-breeds in Central, and he…” Her chest tightens, and Clover has a hard time forcing the words out. “He came up with the idea of using magic to… destroy the minds of half-breeds and troublemakers, to… to keep us from fighting back.
“His… I’m not sure what her rank was, just that she worked for him, she… she caught me. And threw me in the dungeon after making me forget.” She glances up at Sol. “Your brother helped me. And he helped Tezz, too.”
Faysal/Sol: “The Archon was always kind spirit, as stubborn as he was. I’m not surprised he helped the two of you. And the same could be said of you.” Sol’s vessel turned to face Darien directly. “You were a tool for such violence and malice, but redeemed by Archon it seems. Who are you, and what is your story?”
Darien: His hands were growing sore from a mixture of fidgeting and tightening. Darien took a steadying breath, trying to collect and order his memories, which, ironically, he had taken to strictly suppressing and controlling.
“To label me a tool would be…giving me too much credit,” he stated, also keeping his gaze downward. “I…am Darien Whiteland…but I was known as the Magistrate of the Mages’ Guild in High Central. I was raised from a young age into that lifestyle, yes, but then I viciously pursued what those around me would consider perfection. I was trained in mental magics, and I excelled. It took me too many mistakes and too many encounters with both the hellish and godly to…rectify anything that I did. She speaks the truth. I created the dungeons myself. I…destroyed lives. Cities. Races. Kingdoms.” His stare became blank, as though he were struck with blindness, as he began to truly recall the weight of what he’d done. “Only when I strayed into the realms of the demonic did my actions began to breed consequences. I sought a strong guardian for one of the dungeons, and I bargained with the Empress to keep her youngest daughter as a slave, to punish the prisoners and prevent escape. But it failed.” He laughed dryly. “For the Warden ceased being a prisoner herself and became a captor instead. 
“I…don’t recall the details, I obviously don’t hang around too many rebels, but eventually she left the confines of the dungeon, and my contract broke. They came for me, and took me, and I thought I was dead. But instead, the Archon stripped me of power and kept me to work in your dread city you call a home. It was…quite humiliating, but that seemed to be the point, I think.” Another melancholy laugh. “Then something…urgent happened, some bad news, or some such terrible event…they all left. Before he did, he gave me my powers back. As a sign of trust, he said. A chance to turn over a new leaf. But our parting was hurried. They didn’t take any of us with them. And nobody ever came back…except for Tezzeret. He was…” He tapped his fingers together nervously. “He was a man that I…well, he was only a child…he was an experiment of consciousness…and it turned him into a monster. The Archon took him under his wing and fixed him, and became his mentor, as far as I was able to pick up from speaking with him.”
Darien picked at the table. “He died, shortly after bringing us home. One of my…eh…uh…colleagues, the last of the Triumvirate, she…he and the half-breeds went to speak to High Central, to inform the citizens of our–their monstrosities, and it–it didn’t end well. One of her previous half-breed handmaidens was there, and when Kezia tried to kill her…he took the blade.” He took a breath. He wasn’t speaking to Sol or even Faysal any more. “At least, that’s what my sources told me. I don’t know what happened to the half-breed. I have reason to believe she escaped.” 
Faysal/Sol: “She escaped, Darien.” 
Faysal had a short lived look of confusion on his face, followed by a realization. 
“She was on her way to a new dungeon when we found her, I grievously wounded her in an attempt to stop the caravan carrying her.” His face was awash with regret before Sol chimed back in.
“Maralen was her name, I copied her memories before we left her in the care of the half-breeds. I’m fairly certain I watched Tezzeret die.” She paused a few moments, her ribbons fluttering without a breeze. “Maralen had the greatest respect for him.”
Clover: “You–I…” Clover’s words fail her, and she opens and closes her mouth repeatedly. “He died for her, and… she was headed to another dungeon?” A confusing crush of emotion threatens to overwhelm her, and Clover shakes her head firmly to dispel it. 
“What dungeon was this?” she demands of Faysal and Sol.
Faysal/Sol: Sol hesitated, processing the emotions flowing from Clover. The intensity this mortal radiated was almost admirable. “She was captured again, Clover, after continuing Tezzeret’s mission for…” She paused as she searched Maralen’s memories for a stretch of time “For at least seven years after his passing. She made a mistake, slipped up and some forces of Central captured her four years ago and they held her in Central all this time. She was never told which dungeon she was being shipped to, but the road for that dungeon passed through Peppercorn. If she still lives, she is among a sect of rebellion half-breeds near there. But the dungeon itself is a mystery to myself and Faysal.” 
“It’s not a place I would want to be, after leaving Skyshock and exploring the Grounded dungeon, I have no plans to enter another dungeon without good reason. Especially an active one.” Faysal turned his attention to Darien while he spoke. He saw the subtle signs of stress and paranoia and what it had done to him in his travels over the years. He couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “Darien… how long have you been traveling alone, avoiding everyone? Since the Archon freed you?”
Darien: “Well…uh…” Darien rubbed his face. “Deities, it must be at least twenty years since…more than twenty? Ugh.” He fixed his glasses and frowned. Something didn’t seem right. Skyshock? No, I must have heard that wrong. “It’s been a while.”
Faysal/Sol: “Why don’t you travel with us, then? I don’t know exactly what you’re doing out here apart from apparently tracking me, but it must be tiring having to hide from both Central forces and members of the Rebellion that would recognize you.” Faysal gave a warm smile as he continued. “We haven’t run into anything that’s stopped Sol and me yet, I could keep zealous rebels like Clover from hurting you and,” he raised his fist and a small arc of lightning traced down his forearm. “Pummel any Central forces in the way.”
Sol shook her vessel as though she was disagreeing with Faysal. “Are you sure this is a good idea? We should really stay focused on finding my sister.”
“I can’t just… let him wander right now, Sol. You and I have both seen what dangers are lurking right now, and we don’t have to worry about the rebellion. I want to do this, if Darien would accept my offer.” Faysal looked back at Darien, “What do you say?”
Darien: Darien looked like someone had just offered him another position as a high-ranking government official again. He fumbled for words, absolutely bewildered by the proposition.
“I would…certainly not turn down such…uh…generous protection,” he finally admitted. The relief was almost palpable; he straightened at the same time he relaxed at the prospect of having someone guarding his back. “My love for the Warden is…not great, at the moment, but perhaps we may track her together. I would enjoy hearing some answers from her about what is happening in the land lately.” He shrugged with his hands. “And…I don’t really know if I have anything else of pressing importance I must do at the moment. Besides stay alive, of course.”
Clover: Clover looks between the two men, torn between suspicion of Darien and a desire to make a difference again.
“If it’s alright… I would like to come along, as well.” Her tail swishes back and forth, lightly brushing the floor, as she thinks. “I have a dragon,” she adds. “She’s big enough for the three–the four of us.”
Category:Events
Category:BOTGD 2
Category:Faysal
Category:Clover Rose
Category:Darien Whiteland
Category:The Matriarch
Category:Act I