#crowmire

Efrain made his way through the dusty, moldering stacks without any real hurry. His mind was still entrenched in thoughts of lycanthropy, mutation reversal, and the application and experimental use of geas and similar modes of mind control. He’d already poured through his and Eobald’s collections on the subject, but he still felt as though there were gaping holes in his information. Small, strange libraries such as this one had helped him in the past, but still he came up without any new insights. People didn’t tend to study the curse beyond cures for it, but he needed more. His pursuit had lasted all night and now a headache pulsed behind his eyes as the lack of sleep caught up with him. 

As he pondered, he re-shelved the tomes he’d read. The librarian was decrepit and looked more of a wretched corpse than a living being and he felt cruel leaving the thick, heavy books for her to put away. He slid another into its place, the darker patch of wood that shown through the layer of dust from where he’d dragged it from the shelf hours prior betrayed its resting place. With one left, he turned to cut through the narrow through-way between the tall shelves and turned directly into another patron. 

Efrain grunted with the impact and took a step back, scrambling to not drop the tome. “Apologies—” he began, voice rough with disuse, before meeting the eyes of his victim. “Ah, Professor Cleartide, correct?”

Location: The streets of Crowmire

Status: Closed. @rxnnxlhylxne

Efrain made his way through the empty streets of Crowmire without any particular hurry. He’d come at the behest of his father who, quite rudely the morning before, had stormed home in a rage. He’d requested, and paid for, a particular obscure tome some weeks prior from one of their usual vendors, but apparently he now refused to make the trip to the city in order to deliver it. Subsequently, Efrain was tasked with retrieving the book and reaming out aforementioned vendor for his poor customer service. Previously the vendor, a pleasant if odd man named Amund Moor, had been entirely willing to locate, retrieve, and deliver their orders, so he was curious as to the sudden reticence. 

Regardless, he took his time in the early morning sunlight. It was nice to be able to meander at his leisure through the ordinarily crowded city streets. It had been a godsend in the most populous section, but this part of the city wasn’t as busy as others. Little lay down this way but Amund’s and similar vendors of unconventional wares. Otherwise, all there was were condemned buildings.

Since no one else was awake at this hour he’d only passed a fisherman and a fellow traveller, but no one else. Up ahead, however, he saw a figure in one of the side alleyways. He kept his pace easy and measured, as any man out for a stroll would, but kept his attention fixed on the figure in case they intended to be trouble.

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guCCEnoS-Sk)