“Magister?”

No response. The sylvari frowns and knocks again, making sure to use the metal side fo his gauntlet. “Magister Turlough?”

Truth be told, he’s not sure that the Magister is even here, he’s a terrible habit of roaming for a man with a bum knee, and it makes him a terrible pain to find when he’s decided to up and leave in the middle of the day. Honestly there hasn’t been a magister this prone to wandering since Si–

“Ho! Hi, hello there!”

Somewhere from the back of the catalog backstock, his voice rings out, and the young sylvari’s train of thought derails as he wanders further inside. “Magister Turlough?”

“Back here! Ofie go fetch him–”

The Scholar pities the humans who work with Turlough, in some ways. One in particular, and she comes prancing down the side of a stack of wooden crates, tail held high. Few of the humans were allergic, and Nemo wouldn’t be anywhere without her. He’s grateful for the lack of similar physiology, though the cat fur made his nose itch, much to the chagrin of the other felid members of their Order. Ofie, long and white and orange with an oddly elongated Asuran headshape trills and honks at the sylvari, jumping back on the crates. Above, movement.

The man himself is a gangly thing, almost as tall as a norn and wiry with lean muscle — his hair is fruitlessly pulled back, given how much of a nest it turns out to be during the course of this day, and his priory blues were nowhere to be found. Nemo is not a meticulous man, but he is fragile. He remains on his perch as long as he can.

“You’ve brought me news, Keegan?”

“Not — really. Well kind of!” the sylvari pulls out the letter, keeping a careful eye as the human begins to descend his wooden castle carefully, “’Magister Turlough, I’ve sent you my notes from the Elona expedition, as well as something I picked up on the way. I’ve mounted another expedition, and cannot bring it with me,’ and then he goes on about… something or other about lizards and Orr. ‘Signed Fiel Farrinsson’”

He finishes and produces a thin journal, to which Nemo frowns.

“That’s it?”

“He mentioned something about ghosts?”

“Well that would be up his alley, wouldn’t it. What’s he left?”

Keegan sighs and motions him out. The magister produces a cane and clicks Ofelia along beside him, where she saunters with them both — until a hiss and a growl comes from her. Nemo frowns and stops. “What’s gotten into you, you live around undead things would could possibly have you like that–”

Keegan’s stopped by a critter carrier at the bottom of the steps. It’s chirping suspiciously, which… he finds curious until Keegan pulls the sheet back.

And inside are the biggest eyes he’s ever seen.

“’Postscript– his name is Mercer’”

He claps a hand to his forehead and keeps a groan from being heard any louder than it has to be. The griffon chick trills and beeps quietly. Nemo slides his hand down to his mouth.

“Well—- uh. Get it to my office, before Gixx throws a fit. And I’ll…. Figure out what’s to be done with the little one”

It’s hard to tell how far he’s fallen, but he’s certain he’s fallen in love instantly. 

Author quorgi
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Comments (1)

  • Sielic
    March 3, 2018 at 3:41 am
    The Magister has taken the first step to Magister Nemo's Magnificent Menagerie.

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