[RP Plot] Founders: Catching Up

(( This is an RP post set between the knocks after Chapter 3. Please feel free to add your own posts about how your characters may be catching up on what’s be going on and what they’ve been doing between. ))

The young woman knocked on the door. “Magister, this is Elestara. I came as you requested.”

She waited in silence for several minutes, smiling patiently. Elestara listened as he moved around, but not immediately towards the door. He was likely in the middle of his work and like any mage, he would not be rushed. Her mentors in the Kirin Tor had been much the same.

His footsteps finally came closer and several of the locks and the door was pulled open. “Ah, yes. Elestara Embersong. Please enter.”

Elestara did as she was bid, moving aside so he could close the door behind her. She regarded the night elven mage evenly. He was neatly dressed even if there were wrinkles that told how long he’d been sitting. His clothing was the tunic and pants of the Kirin Tor, the purple familiar eye emblazoned on the chest, and large flared pauldrons with glowing purple chests rested on his shoulders. A cloak brushed a stack of books as he turned to face her.

She nodded to herself in satisfaction at his neatly groomed mutton chops and shorter purple hair. It wouldn’t do to work for someone who couldn’t even bother to keep himself organized. Her smile widened and she bowed. “I am glad that I am able to come to your assistance, Magister.”

The man seemed to assess her as much as she had him for another long moment before he spoke. “From what’s written in your records, I am to understand that you have an affinity for fire. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. I’m quite skilled at it,” Elestara replied.

The Magister brushed past her and motioned her to follow him to a large table with twelve seats. There was no one else occupying them, but there was a pile of equipment in a box in the corner. “I’m sure that is a useful skill, but do keep it out of my lab. If I so much as find a smudge of ash on any of my papers…”

“I’m not in the habit of burning research or buildings or people–unless they’re an enemy, of course.” She bowed her head in acknowledgement. Then added, “Magister.”

The kaldorei raised a bushy violet eyebrow at her, then he nodded. “Very well.”

“What skills of mine will you need, sir?” Elestara asked.

“Research. Most of my previous team was lost to the thunder, and I need you to pick up where they left off.” He tapped a book on the table. “Here is where I’ve recorded the last experiment and over there are the notes from the team. Telnara, the only other survivor, has a lab four floors down. You can use her as a resource, too.”

“Is that all?” She asked, glancing between the books indicated.

“Yes,” the elder mage nodded. “I have more work to do in order to figure out what’s going on, so I don’t wish to be disturbed until you’ve caught up. Understood?”

“Of course, Magister. I will be a dutiful student.” Elestara suddenly smiled broadly, a strangely enthusiastic expression considering the circumstances. Her eyes twinkled as she glanced around the man and towards his fireplace. “May I… May I have your permission to light the hearth?”

The magister watched Elestara for a long moment, likely weighing her attempt to push the boundary of his earlier guideline, but gestured towards the hearth on the far side of the room anyway. “You may.”

The young woman snapped her fingers and the air within the fireplace popped and crackled. A flame burst into being between the fresh logs, catching them alight. “Much better! I find it easier to study when there’s a fire going. So, now I can get to work!”

Elestara stepped around him, picking up the book with the most recent notes. She brushed a short, white lock from her face as she settled down into a chair in the corner and began to read.


Wintflink Copperblast bit the end of her quill pen as she read the last paragraph of the chapter she was in the middle of. She turned the heavy parchment page of the book and shook her head.

“I wish I’d paid more attention in class when we covered summoning,” she muttered to herself.

A noise beside her caught her attention, and she turned to see Gobmat at her side, holding a bag and a hot cup of coffee. Wint smiled at him and moved over on the seat she was sitting in, making room for him.

“Thank goodness for you,” she murmured as he climbed up and sat at her side.

Gobmat chittered and opened the bag, pulling out a freshly baked muffin and taking a bite. Wint laughed, watching him, but sobered as she looked around the desk she sat at, taking in the sight of the warlock hall in Dreadscar Rift. Aside from the permanent residents, she’d only seen one or two other warlocks, who melted into the shadows as she approached.

Wint’s head drooped as she remembered how busy it had been here when everyone was fighting the Legion. How it was now seemed to be an insult in comparison. She was jogged out of her thoughts by another shoulder bumping hers, and she gave Gobmat a wan smile.

“I guess I’d better eat up if I want anything,” Wint said to Gobmat, who grabbed another muffin.

She took one of her own and began to eat, her eyes passing over the calculations and notes she’d taken. The basic principles of summoning should work, even sort of in reverse, as Wint had been thinking of calling back those who were now missing. If you knew their true names, she thought, it should work, but the worms seemed to put an unknown twist into what needed to be done. Would they be needed to reopen the way?

Tapping the back of the back of the quill on the page, Wint sighed as a spot of ink fell into the margins. Gobmat gave Wint a look as he popped his last muffin into his mouth.

“I think we’ve gotten all we can out of the libraries here,” she said, returning his glance. “I’m going to write to Mistress Rowena. I remember a book that she had, back when we were studying with her, that might help me fill in the rest of the gaps. Let’s go.”

Gobmat handed her the coffee before he got up, and Wint took a long draught before she got up, reshelved the book, and took the cup along with her. “Don’t leave the trash, Gobmat,” she added, “Mr, Raithborne will be upset if we don’t leave the library clean.”

Gobmat snatched the empty bag and crumpled it in his hand as he hopped over to Wintflink, matching her stride as they went to the portal leading back to Dalaran.

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