Scene #1856:

Owner	Pose
Faruja	It's a beautiful day, at least as far as weather goes in the tattered remains of what once was Burmecia. Rain falls heavily in the ruined, monster-infested city that not even the Alexandrians bother with anymore. Ironically, it might be the safest place on the Mist Continent to be safe from that particular kingdom. So it's with more than a little discomfort that Faruja Senra asks his dear compatriots Finna and Kirika, alongside his love Ainsley to accompany him on a trip back to his ruined home. It's a place he avoids at all costs for many reasons these days, but the recent rumors of scavengers and hide-outs of survivalists of his kind who simply refuse to leave tell him that a particularly interesting development has occured. A collapsed part of the street finally gave way with no one around to keep the ever-pouring rain from sinking that section of the city has revealed a deep cavern, thankfully kept away from flooding due to another collapsed tunnel deep beneath the city as a natural drainage system. Faruja Senra, clad in armor and robes, walks at the head of a small gaggle of Ajoran Templar and mages, all of whom take up defensive positions as the group arrives at the entrance to the collapsed cavern. "Right then. 'Tis simple enough. Enter, find and document anything interesting or relevent, then get out before any of mine new neighbors get hungry. Questions? Bloody good!" Faruja, perhaps understandably, is a bit curt today. He's been moody the entire way here. And so he leads on, summoning Carbuncle. At first the descent is merely rock and broken infrastructure, causing even /him/ to have to duck his head at some points to avoid a pipe or busted bit of stone. Carbuncle lets off green emerald light to light the way in the growing, wet darkness, until one's feet go from dirt to actual smoothed stone some ways deep. As the group descends, the area levels out, very, very deep beneath the ground before they get there. What they encounter first seems to be some kind of underground building, covered in artwork of what /might/ be Burmecians in lovingly carved stone. The two massive doors look heavy, enough so that it might take a group effort to open them. Statues of ratkin in outdated robes line the area up to the grand doorways, two handles large enough for three people to tug upon sitting there. "...Dear /God/!" Faruja mutters as he spies all of this, concern and a little overwhelmed as he lays eyes on a long-forgotten bit of his people's past.
Ainsley	Ainsley decided to accompany Faruja to Burmecia not out of a sense of adventure, but because it was a place precious to his heart. She told him that she'd be there for him the whole way, and that is why she lingers near Faruja while rain pours down on top of their heads on the surface. She stares up into the storm, the sensation of intense sorrow in the clouds making her frown up into the constant downpour as it mats down her feathers and clothing. As the group descends, she hovers, not wanting to walk too much in damp clothing. She seems quiet and contemplative as they move through collapsed tunnel work, mentally cataloguing the layout to try and determine where in this low-built city they are currently located in case they have to go to the surface quickly. As they descend, she becomes more interested in the architecture, which seems to be older than the surface city by a great margin. The large doors get a look of awe from her. She steps up to the doors and examines them carefully, and then reaches to grab one of the door handles, and tries to tug the door open on her own, unless one of the others stop her or try to help her. "This is full of history," she marvels, almost in a trance. She needs to crack open this place and get to the sweet knowledge nestled within!
Finna	If Finna does one thing well, it's recon and sneakery. She's been strolling along the group, occasionally hopping or skipping about to different positions in the merry little parade or rushing off to sniff at something. Unsurprising, as she spent most of the trip in fox form. Walking is simply easier when you have four legs. It's also meant she was able to occasionally hop up onto Faruja's shoulder for a breather. Or Ainsley sometimes! Or maybe Kirika. But for now... for now she keeps her nose to the ground, ears alertly perked up and swiveling back and forth in a manner akin to radar dishes... and eyes scanning every which way. "Your people have a way with art! If I was a thief around here I'd feel worried that the statues might come alive and go hunting for me."
Faruja	Thank /God/ for Ainsley. Faruja is more than happy for her presence, one of the few things keeping him from sinking into a truly dour mood over the trip. No, irritation and grumpiness suit him much better. Thankfully there's been no monster attacks! The rat seems no less interested, running a finger over engravings and a few words in the stone. He peeks, but shakes his head. "Most certainly, mine dear. This is hardly modern Burmecian script. Mine people's history is...foggy at best. Mayhaps we art older than we thought." Mutters the rat. The place practically bleeds history to one such as Ainsley, and anyone sensitive can feel the thrum of long-fading magic. Nothing immediately in the area, but the rat gets on his guard. Then he casts a spell, and one of the doors very slowly opens. It's difficult to get a sense of the larger picture with so much collapse down here. It's a single tunnel, though signs of others are evident with long-fallen rubble all around. Ainsley's keen eyes might figure this to be almost a main thoroughfair for the area, definitely a major street of some kind leading towards this building. As the door opens, it reveals the interior: a large series of stone desks with ancient, fading papers. The dust of years is settled upon them and more than a few seem so delicate as to break apart to the touch. Faruja's blaze gun is gripped in his hand as he enters. Past the desks, the deep darkness gives hint to stacks after stacks of books. It seems this place was a library, and for such an ancient one, well preserved. The humidity above doesn't seem to touch this place, nor the rain, a nice dry place to store such ancient paper. Stone slowly crumbling creaks underneath the weight of thousands of books in the massive area, stone tables carved with old script shrewn about in an orderly fashion. But the feeling of being watched is everywhere, that pricking upon feather, hair, or fur intense. Though nothing moves, it's an odd feeling. "We art renown for our skill in artistry, Lady Finna." Whispers the rat proudly to foxess, occasionally reaching up to scritch a foxear when she rode on his shoulder. Inside the library, the rat cautiously moves forward. "Care to put thine skills to use?" He notes to Finna, furs on end. To Finna's supernatural senses, there's not one source of that watching, but /two/. It seems to be deeper into the crumbling stacks of books, very close to where that thrumming of magic can be felt. Carbuncle and Faru keep close to Ainsley, ready to support each other with the faru sturdier Exalt about.
Finna	Only fools observe the Lunar Exalted from the shadows thinking themselves safe. Anyone watching from the shadows might just inexplicably feel, the longer they observe this group... that not only is at least the fox AWARE they're being watched... But the fox is watching them, and might just be pleased with how things stand. It's unnerving to be sure because this finnicky sensation seems to arise from nothing. Finna answers Faruja with a crooning chittery noise and happily goes scampering around the book stacks and occasionally leaps up onto a bookcase. Eventually she just starts honing in on the tingling spot... little paws making step after silent step.
Ainsley	The room with desks is not at all scary. The only scary thing is the notion of living statues or magical traps, which makes Ainsley much more nervous. She can still feel the storm overhead, the constant thrum of power distracting her from remaining composed. The feeling of being watched makes her even more unhappy, looking around with paranoid eyes, seeking out any sort of source for the sensation. She halts at a book shelf and immediately gets distracted by the books. She gently reaches to take a book off the shelf to try and read it. Even if it's in Burmecian, which she hadn't really studied, she would have very little trouble divining what the book's subject and contents are. She just has a supernatural affinity for words. She goes about doing this for more books, if they don't come to life or anything to that effect. "There will be a guardian," she murmurs, "There always is. Hmm." She looks around again, wary for any such creature.
Faruja	As Ainsley plucks the book up, the expert librarian-lizard manages to /not/ wreck the delicate thing. Faruja's on point, with Carbuncle on his shoulders, letting the lizardess do her thing. He looks a little bit like an attack dog right now, Faruja does. Carbuncle just looks cute. It might even take Ainsley some moments to get an idea for the contents of the book. The script itself is definitely not modern Burmecian, a far older and more complicated version. But there's enough clues in there that the expert linguist can puzzle it out: it's a book on engineering and architecture that she's plucked up, and an advanced one at that. Likely far outside the grasp of the ruined city above. Faruja nods at that, and it's Finna's senses that prove it right. The little foxess' leaping about the bookcase and her supernatural abilities gets attention. The room's temperature drops about fifteen degrees as power fills the air. Wind rustles from nowhere, blowing a few old papers to the winds, and in the darkness a figure forms from seeming nothingness. It's a tall, slender Burmecian woman in robes similar to the ones worn by the statues outside. The bad part? The whispy, transparent nature of the nezumi as she glides wordlessly towards the group may make her nature obvious. "Who enters this long forgotten place?" Calls out the spirit, voice full of anger, though most of it seems to be directed at Finna. The spirit doesn't attack, though power crackles around the old soul. Whatever magic was here, seems the nezumi will take advantage of it. Faruja, with a winning smile, pipes up even as he nudges his lover. Hopefully one librarian to another can calm things down. "God's blessings, oh hallowed soul! Kin and friends of kin walk these halls, mine Lady. We seek to restore long forgotten lore of our people." Comes the rat honestly.
Finna	"Peace, spirit. I'm not here for trouble, and trouble involving me would just make a place like this one big mess!" Speaks the vixen. Finna hops from a bookcase, but when she lands it's in human form, half-crouched. As she rises the young woman tosses some hair over a shoulder, plants a hand on her hips, ending up standing straight and aiming an utterly confident grin at the ghost. Just like that light glimmers from her ears and tail - which even the spirit might've had trouble seeing - in harmony with the crescent moon now glowing on her forehead where before there was only flesh. "Finna Snowdancer of Luna's Chosen. And yourself?"
Ainsley	The type of architecture that Ainsley scans over makes her brain do backflips. She tilts her head as she gazes at things the surface does not show... as if the knowledge really had been lost long ago, before anyone could really come to use it. She frowns at this fact, making her uncertain of the nature of this library almost immediately. Once she is done with the book, it is carefully put back where she got it... Just in time for a ghost to materialize, chilling the room. The lizard girl puffs a sigh, and leans against Faruja, grasping at his arm. The temperature shift was uncomfortable. Not enough to knock her unconscious, but enough to seriously impede her normal behavior. She looks over Finna when an introduction is made. "Please do not boast at or threaten someone in their own home," she tells Finna quite tiredly and in a soft voice, "That is very rude." She soon releases Faruja and steps over to the ghost. She curtsies at the ghost and says, in a soft voice, "I am Ainsley, Ally of the Union, and a travelling chronicler. I accompany these two, and wish to see this knowledge restored and protected... if you would allow." Then she raises a finger up to her mouth and looks both to Finna and Faruja. She makes a gesture with that same hand, and mouths the word "Volume" at them, urging them to be quiet in the library.
Faruja	The old spirit slowly frowns, clearly not one to be intimidated, or simply just not knowing what this creature is. Power is one thing. She's felt powerful creatures elsewhere in the city. But something has that crackling power fade for a moment. She soon just has a suspicious scowl on her face at Finna. But before the old one can lambast Finna, Ainsley beats her and Faruja to the punch. The woman straightens, and gives a nod respectfully to Ainsley. "Well one of you has manners anyway." Tuts the spirit, before she regards the trio more openly. Faruja offers a bow. "Faruja Senra, of Burmecia." As introductions are passed around finally, the librarian ghost floats a little closer, and 'sits' on top of one of the nearby tables. "You're all too clean and well armed to be the usual robbers I get every few centuries. Too scholarly. Well, you two. I suppose even scholars need a ruffian along down here." Poor, poor Finna. The library-ghost is quite openly looking down her nose. "I am the Keeper of this library. I would like to give a name, but..." A small, sad frown. "Time has stolen more than my life. I was bound here as I lived to preserve knowledge. And so I am after death. If you all are willing to preserve what's left, I'd be greatful." Then her eyes turn to Faruja. "You especially, young nezumi. I felt the destruction above. It's even more important now. Your people were once far greater, and it should be remembered." The spirit stands, floating over, and giving an icey pat on the cheek to the rat in a motherly fashion. Faruja, for once, is speechless. Then the ghost starts floating towards that feeling of magic. "But come, you're all mages, aren't you? I can feel your magic even as I am now. Books on ancient cuisine and architecture can wait. Let's get to the fun things, children! Come along!" She states, the ghost suddenly warm and friendly. Faruja, in a daze, mostly just hops along after the group. He looks troubled. The back stacks, the most well preserved ones, are far smaller in number. But they thrum with faded magic, each and every one a tome on obscure and in some cases lost Ivalician magics. Faruja, here, draws one such book out. Pictures of Espers adorn the pages, and he turns it gingerly. Carbuncle perks up at this as it notes a picture of itself.
Finna	"I show you respect, spirit, by acting with complete honesty when my role as a Changing Moon demands trickery and deceit. Would you prefer honest directness or insincere pleasantries?" Flashing a mischevious but charming grin, Finna allows her momentary show of power to fade. "... Admittedly spirits usually know what I am before we even speak. Not this time. But Faruja, ahem..." But apparently not this time! Finna shrugs but keeps the grin. the strange effect she was giving off fades as well. She glances over a shoulder at Faruja, as though asking him what he feels like to do? "We'd heard of bandits and scoundrels loitering and looting, so I came to sniff them out... looks like we found something else entirely! Wondered what they'd want in a library. Ruffians usually go for art, weapons, jewels, metal... not books..."
Ainsley	Ainsley beams with a happier face as the ghost makes her assessment of them. She nods as she speaks about how clean they all are... she rubs at her face, suddenly self-conscious about a bit of mud she can feel on her face from all the rain and travel. Progress through the library offers no opportunity for Ainsley to speak. Their steps are not mixed in with her own, as she floats through the shelves much like the ghost lady does, carefully examining the shelves to get a feel for how the books are organized, trying to figure out what kind of system is being used. She pauses only to peer over Faruja's shoulder at first, smiling at the pages. After that, she approaches the stacks to draw out a book on arcane theory, or the nearest equivilant that she can find, to browse the pages. "Books are knowledge. Knowledge is valuable. Civilization thrives with knowledge. Wars are won with knowledge. Any thief who recognizes that and attains knowledge can use that to become very well-paid," she explains to Finna, "If they know how to leverage the knowledge to the right people." She puffs a sigh, and turns to ask the ghost, "How do you repel thieves? This place seems fairly... intact. There must be significant power stored here, in you or the defense mechanisms."
Faruja	The spirit raises an ethereal brow to Finna. "There's honesty, and then there's /manners/, little one. I'd prefer that you show some deference to your elders." Scowl! The ghost flicks her tail, and even thwaps Finna with an ethereal ruler. It of course goes right through her, but it's the thought that counts. Faruja ponders. "Keep the watch, Lady Finna, and help us sort through these books if ye hath any arcane knowledge!" A nod to Ainsley. "Most thieves are idiots. Still..." The ghost speaks up. "Most stumble in here, then try to scavenge down the other tunnels. I'm not certainly if they're all still there. Lots of collapses recently, and I cannot leave this building. What /are/ you two?" Is asked to Finna and Ainsley. The ghost hasn't seen their like. Then the ghost points to a long-faded distinctly greasy like smear on the wall. "...I'm more than enough for a single robber." Cue noise from outside. Finna might catch it first, as a quartet of the large lizard-like beings that so plague the area now come walking in with hoots and laughs. One of them swings a massive cleaver, cutting one of the tables in half. Faruja whirls around, and nods to the others. "...Speaking of, shall we defend your domain my Lady?" The ghost floats higher, lightning crackling around her. "Please, young nezumi. Do your elder proud, now."
Ainsley	Ainsley turns her head, looking at the smudge with widened eyes. She frowns at the sight for a few seconds, but it does illustrate the point quite nicely. She shrugs after a bit. "Fair enough," she murmurs, turning to regard the books instead... at least until some noise happens near the entrance of the library. The lizard girl lets out a drawn-out sigh, and decides to reply, somewhat belatedly, to the library guardian: "I am still unsure what I am," with a soft voice that could possibly be missed. She rises up off the floor again, and takes a brisk pace back toward the entrance of the library. When she reaches the sight of lizard-like beings, she barks, "You! Leave, or face my INFINITE WRATH!!" Her voice reverberates like thunder after that, lightning crackling over her form and her arms held out at her sides. She's largely trying to scare off some possibly superstitious lizard folk with a lot of bluster, hoping to avoid getting blood all over the library.
Finna	"company's coming!" Forget hearing it, Finna can smell them. But she still spares a moment to grin like a proper scamp at the elder spirit, shivering slightly at the ghostly thwapping. And to Ainsley, "Guess you have a point. it would help if I knew how to read this stuff!" ... Being uneducated might explain a few things... "As for what I am..." Taking the moment to belatedly answer, Finna starts strolling towards the hooting lizardfolk... "My people are the answer to all the monsters who prey on the people, to tyrants who believe themselves safe beyond armor and walls, to wicked beings from beyond the world's borders who weave themselves disguises of human skin to dance and hunt among them!" And Finna has no qualms about suddenly flaring her anima. It erupts like a blazing fire around her, tongues of power leaking off of a thick filmy silvery-purple-blue aura that nearly obscures her body. Her eyes show clearly. "Even predators fear our name..." And for good reason, because Finna extends a hand out past the bulk of that aura. It's still burning with the heatless power, but where fingernails OUGHT to be... instead there's now a set of vicious glowing claws, gleaming like metal and leaving eye-catching trails of light wherever they move. Finna swings her arm with tremendous speed, kicking up a small gale-- But the lizard raiders probably won't see it as a mere threat. For in that brief instant it's like those claws just brushed ALL their throats.
Faruja	The four thieves stop in their tracks as Ainsley yells, that burst of wind causing the smallest of them to be carried of their feet, rolling right back out. There's a sound of screaming as they beat a hasty retreat and drop their staff. There goes the healer. The other three remain, growling and hissing and swinging massive meat-cleavers that look far too rusty. But then Finna's anima bursts forth, blinding one enough for him to strike his fellow down, nearly taking off his head. The remaining two shiver and scream as well when they're brushed by those gale-claws, the blinded one beating a hasty retreat. Faruja and the ghost glance at each other, hands raised, and a combination of pure gravity magic and a light blast of lightning at the flailing lizard-thief's rump has them too tossed outside like so much trash. The librarian sighs. "...This place is always so dirty, and now /that/. Ahh, well." She gazes at the trio, with the threat gone, smiling. The prim, proper librarian /giggles/ and finally gives each a ghost-hug. Faruja shivers, but accepts it. It'd be wise to not piss off a librarian /or/ a nice ghost. "It seems I shall hath to bring brooms next time. Ainsley? Finna? Shall we start catalogueing this place? Erm...and any ideas about the mess?"
Ainsley	The lizards are all dispatched in one way or another. Ainsley puffs a sigh as many of them flee, though one has to be thrown out by lightning to do so. The one remaining is one that is uh... quite dead and sprawled out on the floor. "Messy. Messy messy messy," she complains, floating over to the corpse and looking down at the dead thing disapprovingly. "I hope you prayed to a god," she says to the dead lizard man. The ghost hug is probably received right around then. "A-ah... ma'am, I am cold blooded... please." She carefully tries to push the intangible librarian away, giving an apologetic smile at her. "We should get some Union restoration experts down here. It will be best if someone with training can help us. For now... let's take stock of what is here." "Now, ma'am, can you explain the filing system you use for this library?" she asks, positively sugary about this very boring question.