Early afternoon once again saw the door to Faelyn's study open, as were the windows, trying desperately to get some kind of cross breeze through the deeper parts of the repository, eventually finding himself resorting to his magic to keep the room from getting too stuffy. His left hand was twirling idly in the air, stirring it up quite literally with his aeromancy, though the gesture was almost lazy as the elf was drawn into the tome that he was reading, his right hand taking notes on what needed to be done to this particular book to restore it.
His days were a varied thing. Sometimes correcting historical accounts that seemed almost based in fiction, while others were the more direct definition of his position. Archival restoration. This poor thing had been battered and beaten through the last several hundred years, and while he would do his best to lift the damage from it's pages, there would be no mistake about it that this would need to be transcribed to be most effective.
A voice echoed down the long hallways and pulled Faelyn's attention up and away from his work with a curious and equally confused look on his face. Those who visited the repository either often helped themselves to what they needed, or found him directly. It wasn't as if there were others down here, empty studies waiting for other archivists had sat vacant for some years.
Rising from his desk and stepping out into the halls, a single eyebrow was raised as he went to find the owner of the voice that was calling nonsense through his repository. What he found was, to him, a young elf who apparently, had books to sell him?
His days were a varied thing. Sometimes correcting historical accounts that seemed almost based in fiction, while others were the more direct definition of his position. Archival restoration. This poor thing had been battered and beaten through the last several hundred years, and while he would do his best to lift the damage from it's pages, there would be no mistake about it that this would need to be transcribed to be most effective.
A voice echoed down the long hallways and pulled Faelyn's attention up and away from his work with a curious and equally confused look on his face. Those who visited the repository either often helped themselves to what they needed, or found him directly. It wasn't as if there were others down here, empty studies waiting for other archivists had sat vacant for some years.
Rising from his desk and stepping out into the halls, a single eyebrow was raised as he went to find the owner of the voice that was calling nonsense through his repository. What he found was, to him, a young elf who apparently, had books to sell him?
Well... yes. I do from time to time. Do you wish to come sit or perhaps we could stand at opposite ends of the repository and call out our deal to each other?there was a light teasing to his voice, no malice to be found. This was not where classes were held, so he was the only one to be bothered by such tomfoolery was the two of them.
04-13-2023, 01:16 PM
