A Scholar's Life [Done]

[The Jenn]

Parzifal's work with Harold in the Esterberry library had opened up entirely new paths of research for the young scholar, sending him to the far corners of the realms in search of texts referenced by some of the works he'd found. Thus far, he'd been dragged to Torquehelm and then back into Tulgey to check a location with Vren and rustle through his library for anything new. The man had been snarly but let him get away with it anyway. He wouldn't do anything to harm the books and the old human knew it well.

On a tip from a scroll he'd found in his travels, he had made his way from Tulgey to the Hisstor Wastes and was trying to find a particular cemetery where one of the most famous Hisstors in the history of the war had been buried. Supposedly, his burial place would contain clues for those who cared to search, possibly on the tombstone if he had interpreted the note correctly.

He'd encountered only a handful of people from this arid region throughout his lifetime, so the journey was eye-opening in more ways than one. A local had directed him to a path not far from where he'd been traveling after suspiciously asking his purpose in visiting the necropolis and he got to see firsthand the respect they held for their ancestors when the man treated him to a two-hour lecture on how he should properly show his respects to the grave when he visited. He'd flown part of the way and walked the last stretch to give his wings a rest.

Now he had finally arrived at the edge of the ancient cemetery, markers stretching as far as the eye could see, some of them more 'traditional' than others. He'd been told by the man who sent him in the direction of a ceremonial guardian that he should introduce himself to before intruding on sacred ground, and so he began his search for the man.

[Vyn]

Javaid had spent his morning out on the borders of his Necropolis, tending to the lonely graves out there. Many of them were older than he was and one, his favorite of the lot, had a lingering presence attached to it. He looked forward to the quiet days when he could do simply walk the lonely stretches and make sure all the headstones were still tidy and in good condition.

He'd also grown rather attached to the spirit of the old man that fretted constantly over his lonely grave. The Jackal would have done anything to actually speak with the old man, to figure out why he stayed so loyally bound to to flesh and blood of reality when he'd long transcended it.

He was in the process of polishing that grave in particular when Ma'at suddenly appeared, trilling lightly to announce that they were no longer alone. Instantly the jackal's ears perked and he gathered up his cleaning supplies, bowed to the spirit that was blissfully unaware of his knowledge of it, and darted back toward the entrance.

May it be Conway, may it please be Conway!

Dropping his belongings off along the way, the Jackal took up his staff and stepped outside... to locate the visitor... and it wasn't Conway. His expression briefly fell before stealing into one of neutral indifference mixed with hesitant caution. Strangers rarely ventured into his Necropolis and even more rarely did they come in with good intentions.

"Greetings stranger... What brings you so far out into the Wastes?" The avian seemed considerably more respectful than some other strangers he'd encounter, so he would give him the benefit of the doubt... maybe he was lost?

[The Jenn]

Amongst the drab colors of the dusty landscape and the lifeless graves, the pale Hisstor's appearance was both sudden and immediately noticeable as soon as Parzifal caught motion in his peripheral vision. A quick glance at the canine's face revealed no outright hostility, which was a good enough beginning for him. Judging by his comfort with the location and easy questioning, this was the guardian he sought. Pretty, slender man. He almost mistook him for a woman at first.

Bowing slightly at the waist, the avian stood straight afterward and held out his wing-arms at a slight but noticeable distance from his body. No matter where you were from, it was a clear sign of coming unarmed. "Greetings, sir. I came out here to locate the guardian of this cemetery and inform him of my intentions. A local man from a day's journey to the east told me to ask his permission before walking too far onto sacred ground. Are you the guardian?"

Even though he was fairly certain of the answer, he still waited for the Hisstor's confirmation before continuing. Formal language seemed oddly appropriate, under the circumstances, especially with the way this man had addressed him. "I am a scholar in search of knowledge. I seek the grave of a hero by the name of Kaleil, an old grave, and I read that this cemetery might be his final resting place."

[Vyn]

As always, Javaid was hesitant to trust a stranger but this man was doing everything right. The Spade bowed when the other greeted him, and nodded when he displayed his lack of arms. Javaid kept his staff-spear firmly planted on the ground, in a stance that remained peaceful but nevertheless displaying a guardedness.

The bird was polite, respectful... He asked before he trudged on sacred soil with foreign feet, and mention of a local also made things much easier on the jackal. If he was wise enough to listen to the advice of the locals then perhaps Javaid ought to give him an honest chance?

"I am the guardian." He confirmed, and waited for the avian to explain the details of his journey into Javaid's Necropolis. It was a good reason, too, a scholar's pursuit and Javaid was quick to recognize the name mentioned. He knew every grave in his care, and a Hero's grave was one he could not forget. "You would be correct in your beliefs, and you are welcome to journey here under my supervision." The bird would understand, of course, that Javaid could not leave him unattended with the graves... Especially not while he 'searched' for information. "I can take you to the tombs where he is located."

Smoothly he lowered the staff and relaxed his stance, extending a paw-hand for the other male. "You may call me Javaid, what is your name, Scholar?"

[The Jenn]

Parzifal couldn't help a sigh of relief upon hearing that his information had been correct and this was the cemetery he sought. Some part of him had doubted the validity of the text, especially since the hero's resting place had only been mentioned by inference, but his journey had not been in vain. Whether or not he found anything useful, at least he would be able to sample a touch of history by paying his respects to a man he had spent the last four months researching.

"That would be very much appreciated, Javaid," he replied, reaching out his own pale-taloned hand to carefully grasp the canine's. "Thank you. My name is Parzifal." The gesture made the feathers of his wing-arms spread and he could feel his complaining muscles.. He would need to give them a rest, at least for a few more hours, if he didn't want to ache for a week. He'd done a lot of flying recently. If nothing else, his Diamond ability would be useful if he had nowhere to stay the night.

[Vyn]

Javaid lightly shook Parzifal's taloned hand, impressed by the sharp claws though he said nothing. He hadn't dealt with too many birds in his time, really, but they were very fascinating. Flight seemed fascinating as well, though horrendously tiring... He eyed the man's wing-arms thoughtfully. Had he flown here?

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Parzifal." The jackal inclined his head as he stepped back and then lifted his staff to point at a small mostly nondescript tomb out in the graveyard. "There's an underground tomb a little ways out, it's not too far out but the catacombs underneath are a bit lengthy." He lowered his staff once more, gently leaning on it this time. "If you've already been traveling a while, perhaps it would be best to sit and rest a while before we wander the catacombs? I can put on a pot of tea," briefly his thoughts wandered back to Conway and the boy's absolute distaste for tea... "-- or fetch you something else, if tea isn't too your liking." It would also give him a chance to talk to this intriguing scholar about the hero he had come to see.

[The Jenn]

Quite the intimidating weapon, that staff. Parzifal wondered what sort of skull that was at the tip. With a Hisstor, he supposed that it could be anything. He followed the line of the weapon across the many graves and tombs, wondering where the entrance to the catacombs would be. He hadn't expected an underground tomb... fascinating.

"I've been a little while on the road," he agreed, "and a cup of tea would be very welcome, if you can spare the time. I haven't had one in a few days now and I think I'm starting to suffer withdrawal. I'm not picky on type." His favorite would always be Tulgey Red, but that wasn't a flavor that every household came equipped with, especially so far from the Wood. Black tea, green tea, white tea, oolong... it just didn't matter for the most part. If it was a nice, hot drink then he would probably enjoy it.

[Vyn]

Javaid chuckled lowly to Parzifal's response. Withdrawal, hm? He really was fond of his tea then. "Wonderful. Come along and I'll get a pot on."

Making his way up to the temple, Javaid motioned to a table in an open room. It was open to the air and gave them a clear view of the graves but kept them just out of the sun's direct rays. So long as it wasn't storming, Javaid preferred being up here. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll be back in a moment." With his guest comfortably seated, Javaid stepped into the kitchen to place the tea on the stove.

He wouldn't be gone long, but while he was away, Parzifal wouldn't be left entirely bored. What walls were standing were decorated in golds and blues against the sandy wall of the temple, a gorgeous display of ancient Hisstor's respect to their ancestors. It'd take days to uncover all the subtle little details found in the murals.

[The Jenn]

The guardian had been kind thus far to avoid mentioning his slurring speech with the piercing, but Parzifal wondered if he shouldn't change forms while the man was away. He'd only been a biped for flight and so as not to attract as much attention while traveling. Sometimes a lone human could be a far more appealing target than a lone biped. He had reached his destination now... but if Javaid was being polite about the impediment, he didn't need to change. Not yet. Not until they reached the tomb and he needed to use magic.

"Thank you," he murmured in a distracted tone of voice, eyes caught and held by the dazzling mural display that lined the temple wall. How did it stay so well-preserved in the harsh desert climate? Were the elements kept from this chamber? But he could feel the breeze, so that couldn't be the case. Perhaps the art itself was enchanted. That wouldn' be terribly uncommon.

He drifted closer to the artwork, fingers itching to run along the delicate images. He refrained, having more sense in his head than that, but it was a temptation nonetheless. When Javaid returned, he would be standing less than a foot away from one of the walls, examining a ceremonial weapon in fine detail. He could almost make out the inscription...

[Vyn]

Javaid returned with a small tray with teas and some lunch biscuits to balance the drink. He wasn't sure how long the young avian had been on the road but he figured he was probably hungry as well as thirsty.

As he moved in to set the tray on the table he noticed Parzifal studying the inscriptions in the wall murals. The Jackal smiled to himself. "Do you like it?"

When he had the crow's attention he left the tray and drew closer as well. "My ancestors painted these murals many years ago, it's something of a small history, though I'm sure there's plenty of magic hidden in the paint. As long as I've known them, the murals have never faded or needed much tending, and it was said that the women in my family were great magicians." Just like the men in his family were said to be linked to ghosts, but he wasn't sure if he trusted this young scholar with that information yet.