The charr listens attentively as he gives each tome a cursory inspection. There's a moment of pause on the ethics of necromancy, but only subtly so and quickly discarded. Different experiences, he expects, and different worlds to boot. What is more apparent is the quiet enthusiasm that takes Gethen at the subject of bonding with the land. It's not a surprise after what he heard at Town Hall, but he's glad to be gutting to the chase.
"Connecting with the land is one of my specialties. Before I ended up here, I'd been in training with-" He pauses upon glimpsing a familiar term in one of the books, not a central topic, but one the author saw fit to mention. "Druids. There are druids here?"
Charlie does perk up at the mention of druids, recognition clear in his face.
"Oh yes! There's a whole druidic guild in Vorrun. Would that we could be granted entry, but I could like as not send for some literature if you'd like." He runs a finger along the edge of his tea cup. "Naturally, other druids exist around, but that is your best bet as to contacting a great many. That said, it is likely your magicks may well overlap with this world. I would try putting your own practices into play and see how things come out. I would be curious to see the results myself."
His smile is just as warm as the tea, clearly the subject is something that interests him personally.
"I could use some experience myself, given my role." There's a pause, and then he sits up straight, eyes wide, his hands clap together lightly. "Of course! That's it! My blood!"
This first revelation leaves him a bit breathless - a great many? To Gethen's understanding, such a case is deeply at odds with an ailing world, but it's also cause for hope...if these druids are at all like those he's met before.
He quickly reins that excitement in; hope is powerful, but dangerous. He'll have to learn more before jumping to any conclusions.
It's only when Charlie claps that the Wayfinder realizes with a subdued start that he's gotten lost in thought. "Your blood?"
"Yes! You see, my blood brings life. In quite the literal sense. You see, my kind nourish the landscape. Hold on, let me show you."
He rises, getting one of the potted plants off the bookshelf.
Setting it on the table, he produces a dagger from his belt. A small, ornate thing with ivory and gold design. Grasping the blade with his hand, he pulls it away in a quick motion and a wince.
Carefully, he squeezes the wounded hand, producing a few drops of blood, which he lets dribble into the soil of the pot. Not only does the plant itself begin to rapidly grow and blossom, the vining leaves popping with tiny pink flowers, other plants begin to grow as well. Some small ferns, moss, and little weeds begin to unfurl.
Satisfied, he presses his hands together, a small line of light showing between them, before he lays them back on the table. The cut he had made is completely gone, and he prestidigitates the blade of his dagger clean before sheathing it again.
"If I gave you a small vial to use in your attunement rituals, I can guarantee it will give you a stronger bond. Besides that, it has healing properties in an emergency.
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ophiuchusrising) wrote2024-10-15 04:07 pm
no subject
"Connecting with the land is one of my specialties. Before I ended up here, I'd been in training with-" He pauses upon glimpsing a familiar term in one of the books, not a central topic, but one the author saw fit to mention. "Druids. There are druids here?"
no subject
"Oh yes! There's a whole druidic guild in Vorrun. Would that we could be granted entry, but I could like as not send for some literature if you'd like." He runs a finger along the edge of his tea cup. "Naturally, other druids exist around, but that is your best bet as to contacting a great many. That said, it is likely your magicks may well overlap with this world. I would try putting your own practices into play and see how things come out. I would be curious to see the results myself."
His smile is just as warm as the tea, clearly the subject is something that interests him personally.
"I could use some experience myself, given my role." There's a pause, and then he sits up straight, eyes wide, his hands clap together lightly. "Of course! That's it! My blood!"
no subject
He quickly reins that excitement in; hope is powerful, but dangerous. He'll have to learn more before jumping to any conclusions.
It's only when Charlie claps that the Wayfinder realizes with a subdued start that he's gotten lost in thought. "Your blood?"
Wasn't he just scorning necromacy?
cw: mild self harm????
He rises, getting one of the potted plants off the bookshelf.
Setting it on the table, he produces a dagger from his belt. A small, ornate thing with ivory and gold design. Grasping the blade with his hand, he pulls it away in a quick motion and a wince.
Carefully, he squeezes the wounded hand, producing a few drops of blood, which he lets dribble into the soil of the pot. Not only does the plant itself begin to rapidly grow and blossom, the vining leaves popping with tiny pink flowers, other plants begin to grow as well. Some small ferns, moss, and little weeds begin to unfurl.
Satisfied, he presses his hands together, a small line of light showing between them, before he lays them back on the table. The cut he had made is completely gone, and he prestidigitates the blade of his dagger clean before sheathing it again.
"If I gave you a small vial to use in your attunement rituals, I can guarantee it will give you a stronger bond. Besides that, it has healing properties in an emergency.