Prospective Student... {Lise}

[Joshua]

He finally had the necessary ingredients for his experiments, the virulent poisons he was attempting to craft being one of the top things on his list. He had seen a certain poison crafted from seither oil years back, and had always wondered if it could be... improved on. The elements he had collected in his last foray into the forest should provide more than enough to find a decent combination of ingredients with which to cause even more pain and damage...

His tent had been enlarged after much pestering, his claiming that he could not repair and study things in the small space he had finally being listened to, and now his tent was about twelve feet across. Still not the best size, but better than the six it was before... at least his feet no longer stuck out... He now had a lovely alchemist's nook as well as a place to repair the tomes brought to him in addition to a place to lay his head. Things seemed to be returning to normalcy, or so he hoped...

The small fire was bubbling slightly as he placed his now repaired implements over it, the oil he extracted from the witch plant mixed with petals of nightshade as well as some dragon's blood he had extracted from a cloth at the healer's tent. Surely no one would miss a scrap of ragged out linens? He also pricked his finger and added a bit of his own blood to the mix, hoping that whatever came from the mix that if he was a part of it, it would not harm him...

With the wanted ingredients inside, he walked over to his bed and extracted a small scrap of parchment from the straw. Though he had committed the spell to memory when he had first read it, butchering even on portion of it would result in a completely botched bit of sludge and several valuable ingredients simply wasted; therefore, he would read it so as not to miss even a half-syllable...

He took a deep breath as he stirred, the incantation having gone off without a hitch and the mixture having turned a crystal clear. Dipping the blade of a dagger into the liquid, he removed it and touched it to a bit of flesh harvested from one of the giant snails which roamed the island. Before he could see the results however, a small rustling caught his attention...

[Lisenet]

Miora

Miora had taken to wandering. She hadn't lied when she told Riley she didn't need looking after. But with him and Taesi gone most of every day and half the nights doing Riderly things and learning all sorts of bits and bobs that would never be useful to anyone but them, and with no messages for her to run--what with everyone here able to do that mind-speaking bit of oddness--she was, for the first time since she could remember, bored. She was going to go all soft and flabby--what with there being plenty of food here--if she didn't do her wandering, so she ambled, strolled and ran up and down the river and its branching streams, through the forest, and through the rocky gullies all surrounding the thick masses of tents the Riders passed for a town. After a massive snail tried to eat her and Miora had to spend the better part of an entire day up in a tree before it decided she wasn't worth the wait, she tended to avoid places where she couldn't see very far, but oversized bugs weren't about to let her get out of shape.

Eventually, in her wanderings, after locating many useful and interesting things, like the places where the food was cooked and kept, and out of which well the water tasted the best, not that she was picky about what she ingested. But goodness, with all this water and food and all of these--mostly nice--people, when she went back to Narda she would be so spoiled she'd rot instead of living. She wouldn't be able to survive anymore.

Perhaps she ought to ask to leave. She had been too enchanted with the realization that she was always welcome to any of their food to ask before. But the longer she stayed here the less likely it was that she would be able to cut it back home.

But not in any mood to leave today, Miora found herself at a slightly larger tent than all the others, one that sat slightly separate. Curious at who deserved a larger tent than all the others, she crouched behind a thick nest of bushes and watched it for hours until the watching was no longer enough, and she squatted beside the flap, peering interestedly through a tear up the bottom hem. Although leery of elves--the men in particular--this one seemed to fastidious to be terribly dangerous to her. Probably. And he seemed too wrapped up in his bubbly things to notice her silent watching.

Eventually though, her legs cramped, and she shifted. Noting immediately that he'd heard her, and knowing he would be suspicious enough to come see what the sound was, she threw caution to the winds and stuck a finger through the tear, lifting it slightly, the better to see him. "What on earth are you doing with all those nasty bits?" she wanted to know, referring to the many jars, bottles, vials and dishes of odd things around his workspace.

[Joshua]

It wasn't long into his scanning the area before his eyes fell upon a small tear in the tent, a tear being peered through by a child who then lifted it and revealed herself without running. He had heard the voice before, he knew that much, but he could not place it on voice alone. He did not even notice the sizzling of the snail flesh, so surprised was he at her appearance.

"I think a better question is why are you peering into my tent? Don't you?" he asked, wondering what on earth the child could have been doing and for how long. He wasn't going for the intimidating route this time, after all, she was just a human child. There wasn't much she could do or much trouble she could cause since it was the word of an urchin versus the word of someone such as himself. "I shall strike a deal with you, child. You answer my question, and I shall answer yours." he said.


With his proposition in place, he moved pulled out the two chairs at his table. The girl had seemed genuinely interested in what he was doing, so he didn't think that she would run now, not when she had been hiding for what he assumed was some time. If his intuition was accurate, she would not leave yet, not until her curiosity was sated at least. "Come then, child, I do not bite." he said, pointing to the flap of the tent before whispering a spell in the ancient language to safeguard his tent from eavesdroppers, which in truth, was something he should have done immediately.

He then turned and looked back to his desk, a grin coming over his face as he saw the acidic burns left on the snail's flesh by the poison. It was working at an accelerated rate, which was very good indeed. With a word however, the small sample he had created, along with the decayed flesh vanished, being burned up in a flash of orange fire. There was no need to push his luck or leave any evidence of his work. He knew it would succeed now, and when there were no guests at his tent. The ingredients however, he left as there was no real correlation between them, at least not one that was any sort of common knowledge...

As he took his own seat and smoothed out his slightly tattered and stained alchemy robes, a realization struck him. The voice belonged to the girl who was hiding in the Grandmaster's tent only last week! Such a strange human, but one he couldn't help but smile at, his remembering her fire and spunk bringing a small grin to his face even now. He had thought about allowing her to look at one of the less costly books that day, but it would have been a bit hard considering the circumstances. However, she had not seemed the type to want to cause destruction, so perhaps he would allow her to look at one of the books they had managed to save that was aimed at young people...

[Lisenet]

”I think a better question is why are you peering into my tent? Don’t you?” he inquired.

Miora frowned. ”No. If someone’s looking in your tent they must want something, don’t you know that?” Her question was obviously better. His he should be able to answer on his own. Hers only he could answer. She stayed right where she was, eyeing him suspiciously from her rip in the tent, and watching him range about the tent.

”I shall strike a deal with you,” he said then, placating, and named it. It was a fair deal, but Miora would much rather stay where she was than get into an enclosed place with an elf, particularly a man-elf. Race regardless, men were not to be trusted. And this one seemed to think that proper conversation could only be held face-to-face. Darn him, but she wanted to know what the bits and bobs were for. So as soon as he turned his back, she slipped in through the flap and stood a fair distance behind him. She shied away from the entrance when he pointed at it and mumbled in that way that elves do, dusting off her arms to ward off his magic.

”Come then, child, I do not bite.”

”Miora,” she corrected, still staring up at him, an expression of consternation on her face, refusing to come within arm’s reach. Those two men from the pavilion had both insisted on touching her without her permission, the oddballs. Miora’s hair and forehead belonged to her, not to them. ”And you’ve still got teeth, you could,” she pointed out, adamant. Why did people always say they didn’t bite? Maybe they didn’t make a habit of biting people, but Miora knew just how useful biting was when people did something you didn’t like. Why promise not to use such a useful trick? Fools. And just because they didn’t make a habit of it didn’t mean they wouldn’t make an exception of it. ”I was looking in your tent because I couldn’t look through it and I wanted to know what the nasty bits were for.” She pointed at the lump of pale something on his desk, which had begun to smoke. The finicky elf said another funny something and the pale something burst into orange flames and vanished.

Miora gaped, having leapt back in surprise. This was one of the reasons she didn’t like elves. Their mumbling always had peculiar and unexpected results. Now what had he gone and done that for? Was she not supposed to see it? ”Your sleeve is smoking,” she said then, for a multitude of reasons. It wasn’t, but it gave her the chance to stand on tiptoe and peer into one of the intimidating cauldrons in the room, careful not to touch either it or its contents. Besides, if he looked it would prove either that he was listening to her or that he believed her. Most people just ignored her, so there was a point to the nonsense. Just most people didn’t understand it. She noticed that he’d arranged two chairs at a small table, but she wasn’t going over there. She didn’t like sitting—it felt too much like being useless. And Miora wasn’t useless, she just didn’t know what to do with herself here. It wasn’t her fault all the people here babbled with their brains. A thought struck her. ”You didn’t lure me in here just to cook me, did you?” Who knew? Elves were weird. They might do that sort of thing when no one was looking, and no one missed street muffins. She would probably even go unnoticed.

[Joshua]

"Miora..." he said apologetically with a nod of his head as she finally entered the tent. Though he didn't necessarily appreciate the snarky comments when they were directed at him, he could live with them, or rather, look past them for now. "True, I do have teeth, but so do you, and to come into range to use mine, you would be in range to use yours as well." He said, dishing the girl's logic right back at her with the same tone. He wasn't exactly wet behind the ears, as his two-hundred and eighty-first birthday was swiftly approaching.

As he watched the wary actions of the girl, such as her reluctance to come any closer to him, he resigned himself to the fact that perhaps she wasn't as gutsy as he thought, which was a shame at the same time it was a good thing. At her current age, it was good, but she would need more confidence as an adult, a more commanding presence. For now, it would help her keep out of unnecessary scraps and close calls...

His eyebrow raised as she once again called the myriad of plants and vials of oil and nectar on his desk 'nasty bits'. There was nothing nasty about them... until mixed together that is. Most were quite harmless by themselves, and some even smelled pleasant. Then again, she was also pointing at the acrid snail flesh before he had caused it to burst into flame. "They are ingredients for various experiments... some volatile, some harmless." he said vaguely. Volatile could simply be a bit of lye used for cleaning, or a corrosive poison which ate away at anything fleshy...

He wasn't extremely surprised when she jumped as his visible magic took effect, though he was a little. He figured such a child had seen stranger things than a small bit of meat catch fire before. Surely in her time in the camp she had seen more marvelously grand things... like dragons, maybe? Though perhaps it was because they were dragons and not a humanoid like herself that was using magic which caused a wee bit of desensitization? Either way, the fact that the elf could summon fire seemed to unnerve her a bit.

"Your sleeve is smoking..."

The girl's sudden 'observation' caught him off guard, and he looked to see, wondering if perhaps he had miscalculated something in the potion and it did not only attack tissue as it was supposed to. Upon checking however, he discovered that the girl's statement was actually a falsehood and he saw her peering into the cauldrons as if she did not believe what he had told her!

”You didn’t lure me in here just to cook me, did you?”

His stomach turned slightly at the thought of eating not only a living thing, but an actual person. "Oh... don't even say such things. Haven't you noticed anything about the elves since you have been here? Namely what they have on their plates and in their bowls?" He asked, standing and moving over to one of the empty beakers. "Most elves do not even eat meat, whether it is beef, venison, hare, or otherwise, and all would perish at the thought of eating a human! It would almost be as bad as cannibalism!" he said, his genuine disgust coming through his words. He couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten meat, if he ever had at all. He knew many elves had never touched the substance to their lips, even after a thousand years! And he made sure to tell her this as well.

He needed to settle his stomach, the thought of eating... a human having made him quite ill, and the still air of the tent wasn't helping at all. In a few moments, he had tossed a number of petals and nectars into the beaker and settled it over one of the candles burning in the room while he swirled it. A pleasant aroma filled the tent and as he finished swirling it, he sipped a bit, the draught helping to calm his stomach and bring happier thoughts to the forefront...

[Lisenet]

"You would have to come into range to use yours as well."

Miora grinned. "This is true. But your arms are longer." It smelled odd in the tent, what with the smell of the ash and the plants and the boiling things. More interesting than acrid, though. At least her eyes weren't watering.

"They are ingredients for various experiments."

And that -definitely sounded interesting. She peered up at him, openly curious now. "What does 'volatile' mean?" She repeated the unfamiliar word perfectly, not needing to sound it out. Miora could convince two people who refused to look at each other that one or the other was yelling at them, when she tried. Pulling and throwing voices was one of her sparse hobbies, though she hadn't yet dared to tease people with it here. The elf had looked at his sleeve though, then looked at her, so at least he was listening. Unfortunately he probably wouldn't believe her next time she said such a thing, so she decided not to tease him again in that particular manner.

The elf's disgusted reaction to her query on cooking startled her, and as he tossed himself together what looked like a batch of sweet tea, she squawked with indignation. "I said no such thing! I said 'cook' not 'eat'! Like you cooked that bit of whatnot on your desk there." She pointed to it again. "And I don't just walk around watching you lot eat; if there's food I'm eating some myself, not stargazing." She scowled at him a few moments more, observing that he was genuinely unsettled, and fidgeted into a more apologetic state, not that she would say so just yet

Hesitantly, she asked, "Why don't you eat it though? I almost never had it before I got here but that's because I couldn't pay for it and your bum runs when you eat the bad stuff." She shuddered, remembering feeling like her very organs were individually turning inside-out. After that she had mostly avoided the stuff for fear of feeling that way again. She fidgeted again, uncertain of what to say after giving his belly the quakes, even accidentally. She still wanted to know what he was doing with all these plant pieces. "So, what's your name?"

{sorry about the lack of codes, still too hot to turn on the comp}

[Joshua]

"What does 'volatile' mean?"

Malenwryn sighed as the girl asked him to clarify a word as simple as volatile. He should have known that a human child would not have as large a vocabulary as an elf of her equivalent age, but then again, he was also surprised at how long she had gone without said clarification. Perhaps there was hope for her race yet. "Volatile... it is dangerously unpredictable... somewhat like a cat. One moment if will be purring and loving your ministrations, and the next it is attempting to slice your face off." He nodded in approval to his own simile. It was quite clever of him. What was more volatile and unpredictable than a cat? And surely this little human had seen a cat before! He took a quick sip of his potion, his nodding having been a bad move considering his unsettled stomach. He would be fine in a few moments, but any unnecessary head bobbing was simply stupid of him...

"I said no such thing! I said 'cook' not 'eat'! Like you cooked that bit of whatnot on your desk there." She pointed to it again. "And I don't just walk around watching you lot eat; if there's food I'm eating some myself, not stargazing."

"And since when does one cook something without the intention to eat it?" he asked, pointedly ignoring the girl's mentioning the poisoned snail flesh. Perhaps if he was oblivious to her pointing and talking about it long enough, she would begin to doubt herself. "I for one have never seen someone cook something without the intention of ingesting it later." He couldn't stop the eye roll that came when Miora admitted to being completely unobservant when it came to people's eating habits. Watching people for signs of uniqueness was a valuable skill, after all, one never knew when they would need to find one of his kind and beg them for help. ""Well then, perhaps you ought to engage in 'stargazing' on occasion, hmm? You won't starve here, and you never know what you might learn."

"Why don't you eat it though? I almost never had it before I got here but that's because I couldn't pay for it and your bum runs when you eat the bad stuff."

The elf simply looked at her, unblinking. "Because I can hear it... before it becomes meat, anyway. Humans, Dwarves, and Urgals can hear only a soft and muffled cry of an animal as it dies, if even that. Elves - or any magic user - but Elves in particular, can hear their agonized screams in their minds, sometimes for full seconds after their death. Bloodcurdling cries of agony as the life is taken from them. That is simply one reason that I do not partake of meat. Would you if you had to think about such an awful thing every time, or worse yet, had to hear their last, desperate cries for help... those pitiful cries of pain and suffering and know that it was your actions which caused them?" He said, shuddering slightly at the end. He wondered if the girl had noticed that most elves' tents were as far from the kitchens and slaughtering tents as possible? His own was, it was far away in the corner, and sometimes, such as a feast night, it wasn't far enough...

He was just finishing his concoction as the girl asked him his name. He simply told her his first name as he took a leather strap and tied back his hair before moving back to the table and depositing the beaker from which he had been drinking. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do next. He supposed poison-making was out for the moment, since he had a witness, so he might as well go back to restoring some of the books that had been brought to him the night previously. Shucking the apron he was wearing, he moved over to the corner with the books, passing closely by Miora without touching her as he did. He should be finished soon, he had been restoring them for weeks, and the first ones to be restored were naturally the worst off, so at this point it was just a little bit here and there that needed actual fixing, for the rest was just warding against further harm...

[Lisenet]

”Somewhat like a cat. One moment it will be purring and loving your ministrations….” Miora sighed, tilting her eyes toward the ceiling of his sloped tent. If he was going to explain one word to her why would he be so mean as to slam her with yet another big word she didn’t know. How rude. She spent a moment wondering if it would please her more to annoy him by asking for another definition, or by pretending she knew it and refusing to give him the satisfaction of asking.

She decided not to ask. She could always badger him with the word later.

”I for one have never seen someone cook something without the intention of ingesting it later.”

She lifted a single eyebrow and wedged a fist onto her hip. ”Oh really?” She pointed sharply at the singed lump of something on the desk. ”Is that so delicious that you just forgot to eat it? Or does it fall into your list of things you won’t eat?” She crossed her arms and listened to him explaining himself again, then settled back on her heels as she realized what a long-winded fellow he was. The words he spoke built sounds before her, constructed sensations she hadn’t known animals could feel or experience. She admitted she recoiled from the imaginings he described. She resisted the urge to take a step back from that which he spoke about. She did understand why he didn’t eat meat then. She was glad she didn’t hear anybody else’s thoughts.

When he gave his name she nodded, glad it wasn’t one of the ones that was utterly unpronounceable. She blinked curiously, watching him with interest as he moved about and returned to the even stacks of books. ”Can you hear my thoughts too? Do insects have thoughts? What about plants? Is there a way to keep people from listening to what I’m thinking?” Miora rarely felt the need to refrain from giving her opinions for any purposes but her own, and she didn’t consider herself a person who had many secrets, but either way she didn’t suppose she wanted anybody nosing into her brain. They might change things.

Miora paused, then, since she’d asked so many questions and so far he had made the example of answering all her previous ones, and folded her legs to sit comfortably in the grass where she could continue watching him. There was something interesting about the way he moved, something that set him apart from the way human men moved. Like a bird, the flick of his fingers and wrists had something fascinating to them, not as simple and straightforward and efficient as the way human men moved—with one purpose in mind. She might have accused him of orchestrating the way he accomplished these small tasks if she hadn’t observed much the same in most of the other elves she’d seen here.


{No worries! I'm glad he's okay. Sorry it's short. :/ }