There is this new thing happening...

[ezra_pyreborn]

Who: Ezra, Anyone
When: Arrival
What: An undead arcanist gets a library card.

Ezra L. Pyreborn, historian, linguist, and arcanist, architect of peace in his native Lordaeron, speaker to Titans and dragons, was lost. This wasn't the first time for such a thing. Wandering the world of Azeroth, crossing and re-crossing the line between death and life, negotiating between the competing factions of the Alliance and the Horde, had led him far afield. He was confident in his ability to navigate unknowns. But this time was different.

The interview with the Bronze Dragonflight was the last thing he remembered. They had opened a portal across time and space, and told him that his next destination lay beyond. Trusting them - for what else is there to do against an entire flight of dragons? - he stepped through.

He'd come out in a library. That much was clear. There were books, stacked and shelved to the lofty ceilings of a grandly furnished old building, and more books than he'd seen in one place in his life. Reading was clearly the business of whoever managed this establishment. His unnaturally glowing eyes found the darkness not at all troubling, though he found only a few candles, and no lanterns at all. Were there living patrons? If so, did they come only during the day?

Was the portal still there, closed and quiescent? It was not. Damn those dragons. What are they up to?

There was a reason he was here, surely. There was meaning in all this vast conglomeration of knowledge. There was no rush to be anywhere - dragon magic could cross time as well as space. And so Ezra Pyreborn, undead, zombie slave of the Scourge turned crusader of the Forsaken, loyal follower of Sylvanas Windrunner, tireless servant of peace, did what he had lacked the opportunity to do for a very long time. He sat down, and he began to read.

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[homeless_pard]

It had taken several days for her to admit she needs must leave the hospital. The first several had been taken up with rearranging what she might; taking the vast emergency building as a whole was too much for one doctor to manage and so she rearranged and shifted things. The emergency room was now more an all purpose clinic with small rooms set up safely within range.

She was a Healer, yes, but omniscient and able to run between floors to tend patience? No. Given she had met only two souls, in all those days she did not believe rearranging the rooms would lead to harm. No, not at all.

Ah, but now was a day for stepping out and exploring, of finding what materials may be available and what may not. After all, food for one did appear so far in the hospital dining room for her but she much preferred her own cooking, and some material so she might have skirts when not in scrubs would be quite welcome.

She did not expect a library for certain, and by the small gasp as she slipped inside, well, she was another not well used to the presence of so many books. Where would one even start? "City?" she called softly, "mayhap the medical books if you may speak here?" It was not as odd as some things that a city may speak, after all it had greeted and hired her. She had asked as she moved things whether such would be alright, it was only sensible to ask now.

A few lights high up flickered on at her question, and a modulated-for-libraries voice drifted down, "The library directory is ahead, Doctor."

Ah, well and good. She could understand if it was not to speak loudly in such a place, or often. A directory would certainly help...provided it was in a language she knew.

[ezra_pyreborn]

The library was a study in deliberate anachronism. Automatic lights and mechanical affordances clearly existed, but the main directory of books was shelf upon shelf of cards, upon which titles, authors, and locations were hand-written in a meticulous, and highly legible, style.

The inconstant illumination revealed a black form by degrees, crouched atop one of the tables near the card stacks. He - or she, or it - was dressed in a black, broad-brimmed hat and a knee-length black longcoat, of a type probably discovered and rediscovered on any world where mud and rain are to be found. The white underneath wasn't clothing, but bandages, wrapping the figure up like a mummy.

The purpose of the dressing became clearer the closer one got. The charnel stench of the grave was only barely masked by some manner of perfume, probably on the bandages, and the spiritual miasma of an animated corpse could be felt by anyone with any degree of sensitivity to the invisible world. Burned flesh could be spotted peeking from the gaps in the bandages. Here was something that should have long since stopped moving.

Unnaturally glowing eyes looked up from the study of a thick leather-bound book laying open on the table, and began scanning the darkness.

[homeless_pard]

Being what she was how could she not feel that wrongness before she even caught sight of the man at it's core? She stepped, one foot raised ad her skirt washing against the lifted ankle, only to set her hand on the card catalog itself in hopes of finding something solid to brace against. It wasn't a pull, exactly. It wasn't the feel of a life bleeding out, nor was it the stench of evil that would set her running with nary a thought...

...nut neither was it wholesome and whole feeling. Oh Powers what could be crouched in a library!

It took a long breath and several smaller ones, making certain there was no evil in the air, before she felt steady on her own two feet and lifted eyes bled to golden toward the center of the feeling. "Pardon if I intrude, I thought not to find another here and so asked no permissions. If you hold this library my apologies and I beg forgiveness for my intrusion."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"Sa o ket," croaks a parched voice from a dessicated mouth. And then the creature speaks again. "Sso, there are otherssss, yess."

The voice is thin and reedy, sibilant, and sing-song. The speaker is not someone accustomed to drawing breath without thought. Every word takes a bit of effort, a conscious direction.

"There iss no intrusion. A place of learning ought to be a public space, yess?"

The apparition raises a withered hand, tipping its hat in what must be intended as a polite gesture. "Ezra L. Pyreborn, at your sservice. Your sspeech is sstrange, but I am a linguisst and a wizard besides. Perhapss you can ansswer ssome of my quesstionss. I find mysself at a dissadvantage."

[homeless_pard]

Wrong wrong wrong sang along her nerves with every miniscule movement he made and word he uttered, wrong, but not uncivil, and not a Power as she'd initially assumed. Powerful, but not an Old One. That she might...

...ah, she was not a brave woman, no. She peeled overly thin fingers off the catalog drawers and took a few more steps, but she could not force herself to his table. The nearest she could manage without the shaking becoming obvious was the seats a row nearer. "...yes, and so, but this is a land of few souls and as such public spaces may no longer mean much. I will answer what I may?" To the best of her ability?

"I am Khemrys if it pleases, healer and the sole doctor here as of yet it seems."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"A physssician rather than a ssscholar, eh?" the creature - Ezra - keened. "Interessting. Then perhapsss you know who built thiss place? Or perhaps not, yess."

He hopped off the table in a smooth motion, standing not-quite-upright. His posture was unnatural, his spine bent and deformed, perhaps by undeath. "I have no immediate need of your sservices as a doctor, but I welcome any company. That said, hahaha.." His luminous eyes studied his reluctant conversational companion. "My people. We call ourselves 'Forsaken'. You will not inssult me if you flee, as I ssuspect you wissh to do. It iss always thuss with the living."

[homeless_pard]

"Healer and Stillmistress," she corrected softly. "And so named doctor in the lands I have stumbled upon." For skill in medicine, surgery, and non-magical care alongside her natural calling.

Ah, 'the living', that was it wasn't it. That feeling of wrongness, a body moving when it should not. Certainly there had been such bound in the Wastes she had fled through but grace and instinct had steered her well clear of their abodes. It was easier, knowing, what was wrong that pushed upon her. "I do not wish to run, for if I do I may not stop, such is a pattern within me and I strive to grow past the long run." As she'd barely began to be able to speak of her ordeal with others before arriving here, well, she had not had much therapy, but breaking patterns? That she understood. "Though I would see it as a boon should you not draw too close lord, I may adjust in time, but such will like be long in coming. As for our new land here? I do not know, the city has been alone, and longing it seems for some time. It speaks through buildings at times, but I have asked little of it yet."

[ezra_pyreborn]

Ezra held very still, unnaturally so. He did not even breathe, nor needed to. Only his eyes tracked movement. He listened, and attended to what was said.

"My apologiess. The transslation is due to the arcane, and not precise.."

He lifted the leather-bound book from the table with elaborate care, and held it for inspection. "There iss much knowledge here, but none explaining the necessity of my presence, yes. The Bronze Dragonflight, my current patronss, have their own obsscure reasonsss in arranging thiss. It sseems I am not the only victim of dessstiny's hand in thiss matter. Perhapss we may aid each other in revealing the truth."

[homeless_pard]

How must it feel from the inside to have no heartbeat to steady you and no feel of air reviving you? She could not even imagine what he might have to ignore in order to simply function!

"Well and so," she allowed simply, eyes slowly bleeding away from the gold to a far more human grey.

"This may not be such a place as they intended," she offered after a moment of looking the book over from her distance. "A lonely thing may reach and take when having the power to do so. I was in a between place, as were those I have met here so far. Mayhap you were also between, neither here nor there, and vulnerable to such a taking."

[ezra_pyreborn]

Ezra laughed. It was a hideous, unearthly sound, and it kept rolling out of withered lungs and blackened mouth longer than it ought.

"A power able to mock the Bronze Dragonflight would be potent indeed, yess. But grant ssuch a thing the power and will to ssummon, but not to sspeak its wishess openly and insstead watch its guessts flounder in darknesss.. My lady Khemrysss, you have far more to fear than one wretched Forssaken if that tale is true. For what you desscribe is not a being of good ssense and reason, but merely a potent child, and we be itss playthings."

He set the book down with exaggerated gentleness on the table and gestured around him with a bandaged hand. "Far more comforting to think there iss some mysteriouss purpose given to me by the dragonss, yes?"

[homeless_pard]

She had to close her eyes a moment and still the urge to flee once more at that sound but she managed, yes. "Mayhap, then what of I though? I know of no dragons and hold no ship with those who may. My kith are not beholden to such, nor are they present here beside me. The city speaks, and true at times it seems so very eager to see me settled, like a child, and others it seems distracted. I could find fear in either aspect, truth told." Unknown powers either way honestly.

"My care is that I may aid and that I not be returned to my own world, beyond such I will strive to make a home and hold what peace about me I may."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"My comforting illusionss do not account for your presence," Ezra confessed lamely. "I prefer to think that my masssters of the moment are enigmatic rather than capriciouss, yes."

"You say 'that I not be returned to my own world'. I very much wissh to return to mine. There is a war to prossecute, one on which ressts the survival of civilization and culture and freedom. I have friendss and allies who will need my sservices. So then what of you, if I may inquire further?" He rested against the table behind him, clasping his wrapped hands together.

[homeless_pard]

"My world is one in which I grew knowing of far greater Powers who may shift a world and person within; but in kind one learned forms and respects to aid in keeping one safe. Mayhap I am less afraid of great Powers because I grew believing such may be safely respected," and as such the capriciousness of any tempered somewhat.

One could hope anyway. That was her comforting illusion.

"My sorrows for you, lord, to be away from such a place of need. As for my own world, well and so it is a simple tale. I am fair unlike those I was raised among and in time I was hunted, I ran, far and long," and indeed the signs of depredation were upon her yet if one knew how to look. She held little to no weight beyond the necessary, hands and face too thin by far even yet. "In doing so I fell between in a place others had learned to travel and I was taken to a new world. Small, so small, I could run around the whole in less than a day, but safe despite such. There I learned of doctors and earned my way as such. I had...just purchased a home with my finding sib, and then was plucked away once more. Now I am here."

[p_51]

Roy's advance was heralded without light, but with a soft voice giving directions such as, "Three feet ahead, two paces left." and the like. In time the reason for that became...somewhat clear. The man had a few large books under one arm, and his other hand was firmly on the harness of a dog wearing a vest that proclaimed her to be a SERVICE ANIMAL. The man himself had a mumbled litany of; "I hate this city, I hate this city, I hate this city." the entire time that he was guided by dog and voice towards a table.

[ezra_pyreborn]

"Not so alone as it seemed. Perhaps I should set out a sign." The voice was thin, reedy, ready-made to softly calm or regretfully sigh. Its owner still looked human, out of deference to his first visitor's sensitivity to the undead.

A trained animal meant only one thing: a tracker, ranger, or naturalist. Ezra's eyes carefully appraised his new visitor for a military bearing, while his voice continued on as naturally as anything. "Welcome, friend. Acting librarian Ezra L. Pyreborn, at your service. Perhaps we can assist each other."

[p_51]

"Colonel Roy Mustang, late of the country and army of Amestris and rather more recently late of the world of Penrose. A sign wouldn't do me a damn bit of good I'm afraid." he didn't bother swinging his head towards the voice, instead allowing Merlin to guide him to a chair and setting down his book. "I suppose I should say ex-colonel, but you can take the sight from the military man but you can't take the military from the blind one."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"A pleasure, sir." Ezra's bandages still gave off the faint odor that masked his undead body's foul stench, even though he had no need to do so at the moment, and the smell wafted through the room as he moved to sit opposite.

"I lost more than my sight in the last war, in my homeland of Lordaeron. I lost my life, and in returning from the grave I lost my wife, my son, and the rest of my memories. Happily I was able to meet my family again. Perhaps in your travels you will encounter a similar blessing. But, perhaps you have met our fair city's resident healer and had a consultation already?"

[p_51]

"You mean Khem?" he smiled, wryly, "She's one of my good friends. Hurt her and we'll see if pyreborn can also be pyreburned." that was said with flames dancing above his open hand rising in intensity from the coolest of flames to the hottest in a pinprick too small and smokeless for the city to douse him. This time. There was a learning curve when it came to sprinklers. "Regardless, Khem can't do anything for me."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"I am sorry to hear that," the wizard replied softly. "I have indeed been burned, as well as stabbed to death, buried, soul-severed by dragons.." He ticked fates off on his fingers as he reminisced.

"Regardless, I have no wish to hurt anyone. There is far too much war in my world, too much suffering. Elaine, Kagarn, and Kaliera would never forgive me for injuring a fellow healer, especially. She seemed startled by my abrupt return to mortality, but I have come to expect that reaction."

His eyes flickered to the flame-wreathed hand. "I am gratified to know that she is not without other friends here. Your magic.. have you also felt a draw on it, some force siphoning away your strength?"

[p_51]

"As long as you understand." he said with a nod, "Khem's been hurt too much in life." and couldn't protect herself. Roy felt it was his honour to take the place of her missing ability to hurt even in self-defense. "Hmm? Ah, I haven't really, no, but my method of alchemy doesn't draw energy unless I'm actually using it. I think if I tried to go all-out I probably couldn't, but I use external power rather than power inside myself."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"There seems to be a shortage of that," the wizard remarked wryly, gesturing at the darkened library surrounding them. "I feel rather like I'm hosting a social function at the bottom of a well."

"It was my pleasure to know other military men who protected those around them. The Forsaken knights of my own Undercity saw to the unlives of our civilian population. The Argent Dawn, faithful defenders of the living against the Scourge. And of course.." Ezra eyed the other man's sightless eyes for a moment. "Demon hunters. Elves - and others - who sacrificed their sight for power to slay the demonic forces of the Legion. My world had far too many enemies for comfort."

[p_51]

The gesture was lost on Roy, of course. As was Ezra's look at him. Roy sighed and sat down at last, rubbing his face with his hand, "My sight was sacrificed for me. It was intended that I be a sacrifice...not a willing one. They needed a specific trait for the sacrifices and forced me into having it. The side effect was loss of vision. I've been, essentially, rewritten to be blind. Khem can't heal me because this is the new healed."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"Interessting," the wizard mused. After a moment he spoke again, mindful of his academic tone in the face of personal loss. "Do not take from that remark that I lack ssympathy. Ssuch actss of ssacrifice - and always 'for the greater good' - are turning points in my world's recent history."

The rustle of his clothing was the only noise he made when not speaking. The faint sounds of breathing that would mark a living person come only when he prepared to do so again.

"Your animal companion, then.. a compenssation for losst vision? I disscern no magical connection or druidic bond."

[p_51]

"Don't worry about it." he said with a wave of his hand, "You don't know me." he didn't expect sympathy from a stranger. He preferred the lack, honestly, because it made him feel patronized. "It's sad that evil is all over the universe on world after world."

He noted, but didn't mention, the lack of sounds associated with life. "Merlin? Yes. She's a well trained guide dog, but we don't have any bond other than that of any man and dog."

[ezra_pyreborn]

"Interesssting." That word again, and that tone. "More than evil is universsal, it sseems. Thiss creature, the dog, is ssimilar to those I have met. A different breed to be ssure..."

An idea came to him. "Ssuppose that the Firelandss were sstill accessible to my magic. I feel no ssuch connection now, and a library is hardly the place to conjure one of itss inhabitantss. But it makess me wonder if you could esstablish a bond with an elemental creature of fire. Would your power facilitate it? Perhapss idle sspeculation, but we are in a place of learning after all."