The interior looks larger than you had anticipated and there are more white-coat people inside, and a mixture of species interact with one another. Some in a more robust way than others.
A Handful glance at you before staving off their gaze. Some endeavor to get nearer but stop short after taking only a few steps.
" Pay them no mind," Valindra says. " The abecedarians are quite keen to ascertain themselves."
You glance around once more. You can divulge from the looks of many that they are new, many trying to demonstrate their significance while others stand there, questioning themselves, and a few even create hysteria for all to notice.
" I never did catch your name, " Valindra declares as you both enter a chamber. The monotone white only adds to the otherworldly ambiance of the place.
Draalsar makes itself relaxed at the foot of a nearby bed. You stroll up to the bed and get a good sense of it. The softness is unlike anything you've ever encountered.
" I see you've already begun examining our quality bed, the fleece used is from an unfamiliar land and was just brought in by the ecclesial concierges. "
All you do is nod as your fingers continue to investigate what lies before you. You have to restrain yourself before you lose yourself to the incredible feeling of bliss.
" I'll need your name for the file please," Valindra elucidates as she takes a scroll from a desk and clips it to a diminutive board.
You promenade up to her and pull down the cloth concealing your neck, revealing the scar across your neck. Her eyes widen but she immediately rescues her poise and writes something down.
" But do you have a name? " She inquires of you.
You shake your head, implying that you do not. She then glances at Draalsar who hasn't changed position ever since laying down. She gestures, suggesting if your companion has a name and you nod. You motion for the clipped scroll and she reluctantly hands it over.
" Pardon me, " she looks at you with a questioning gaze, " can you write? " Her tone is a mixture of genuine concern and inquisitiveness.
You nod. You don't recall how you learned it but you can read and write in this tongue. You write down your companion's name, Draalsar.
" Draalsar huh? That is quite the name for a hound, " she speaks out as she saunters back to the desk and pulls out a strange contrivance. It is a lengthy slender apparatus with the end forming a clenched talon. You can sum up to three digits in a clenched fist-like position from where you are standing.
" This is an A. D. D, Aura Detecting Device. It is used to determine the arcane level of a person, " she clarifies. " Let me show you. "
She puts down the clip and stretches out her free arm and then aims the device at it. The talon relaxes and spreads out, exposing five digits, the end of each claw pulsates with a dull red light. The talon widens its grasp and wraps around her arm. There's a click and its grip begins to slacken until it lets go completely
A screen manifests above the contraption. On it is the number 78. Glyphs that are so small you can barely make them out rotate around the numeral.
" In this world, we have three particular classes when it comes to the mystic arts," she clarifies as she walks to a nearby wall and halts.
" We have the natural born class. They can manipulate the numinous realm from which they and others draw their power although natural born do so inherently. We elves have the highest quota when it comes to being birthed as a natural born.
The two remaining are quite similar in certain aspects. The Conduit class and the Inert class are quite common among the orcs and Dwarven kind, all things considered. Although one could incorporate humans as well. Conduits can only accomplish numinous acts if and only if they have a conduit with the common one being a rod, hence the name. And the Inert class cannot perform any mystic acts no matter how hard they train or try.
Here in Merrowfay, the denizens are made up of mostly conduits with the periodic natural born. But wayfarers do rest up here making this place a prominent hub of sorts, " She elucidates, purely present in her voice. She walks up to a nearby wall and tuggers down a diagram from a wall nearby.
It displays a sketch of a human with its limbs extended out in various directions. Around them is a kaleidoscopic loop and certain sections of the loop have a line pointing outward to a series of text.
At the very top reads; "Lay lines common in most species". The texts below this one summarize the lines which are present in some but not all species which qualifies them to use what the wall parchment referred to as mysticism.
" Would you please extend your hand? " Valindra appeals as she holds up the device which gives off a portentous ambiance.
You adhere to her instructions and gaze as the digits on the talon stretch out once more and wrap around your arm. As it constricts around your arm, strange spectacles course through your body. The feeling of being scrutinized returns.
The talon lets out a hiss as its digits retract. However, there is no number displayed on the promptly manifested screen. In its place is an insignia, an eye.
Draalsar instantly rises, attention trained on the phantasm. The eye darts around, halting briefly on Draalsar before concentrating on you.
It fades away in a puff of smoke, leaving you with more queries than answers. You look over to Valindra who is completely smitten with alarm. Her eyes are wide and her breathing is ragged as she slowly backs away until her body hits the wall.
You gradually wave at her as she clings to the wall for dear life. It takes a while but she finally recovers her composure as she plops into a conveniently positioned chair.
" What," she whispers, " what was that? " She looks at you.
" Who exactly are you? " She asks, more to herself than you.