[Izark]

A long and lean figure shambled through the streets of Romalia, or rather: virtual Rome as he figured it would be known out there.



Grumbling, keeping his arms along his body as he tried to make himself as small as he possibly could, trying to avoid bumping into anybody, anything or anyone; the figure kept skirting along the narrow streets of this virtual town.



“I need books, I need to figure out what’s going on. I was supposed to relax for an hour... my boss is going to kill me if he doesn’t get that report at the end of the week...” Jonathan grumbled and muttered under his breath. The town felt post Dark Ages, presumably about 14 or 1500’s. As the name of the town suggested it was Italian, the clothing of the townsfolk modest and practical for the lower echelon’s of the population, becoming ever more colourful and flamboyant the higher one’s position.



From what Jonathan could see was that the richer men wore baggy hip trousers and as far as he could tell on sight was that the size and number of feathers on their hats gave away the importance someone held or at least wanted their others to think they held such importance.



The women wore simple skirts of rough cloth or tight jackets laced with gems, pearls and silk. Their hairdresses were even more extravagant than those of their male counterparts. The wealthier the Lander or their family the more elaborate the designs and sheer resources that went into the clothes.



Though Jonathan never really did spend a lot of time reading up on Medieval or Renaissance clothing designs it dawned him that whomever made up this part of the world took a dash of paint and highlighted some of the historical parts as to make it more befitting of the game world they were trying to portray. On that part they actually succeeded.







Scouring the signs that hung from the buildings on the streets Jonathan kept his eyes out for anything that had something that resembled a quill, a book or a combination of both. Any fancy building that could resemble either the townhall or an actual library or school would also do. His heart kept pounding and his eyes shifted back and forth. ‘Too many people around here, there has got to be some kind of way out of here, I need a place to think and gather information. I can’t be the only one stuck out in here. This has to be a dream, there is no other logical explanation... is there?’ he thought to himself.







After what felt like struggling up a high mountain with a backpack way to heavy to carry, dodging people and keeping an eye out for the library or bookstore he longed so much for, Jonathan found a thing that seemed to fit his discription.



It was a larger building, with light, marble columns carrying the large roof. A small walkway running between the columns and walls, paved with a darker type of stone. The entrance consisted of a large wooden door, studded with iron. Above the large, wooden door, supported by columns stood a tympan with strange inscriptions, intricatly crafted as part of the roof. Several tall gothic windows were placed behind the columns in the wall, the sunlight reflecting of the stained glass in them.



‘An interesting design, combining late gothic style with ancient Roman or Greek columns, probably Dorian styled.’ Jonathan mused as he took a look at the building. Taking a deep breath he walked up to the door, dodging two young students, he presumed, carrying papers and quills. Gently pushing the heavy, wooden door he entered the building.

WC: 616

[Izark]

A sudden shock went through all the way down Jonathan's spine as a ray of light entered the building with him as he openend the doorway.
As if some god had been kind to him and sent an obvious waypoint to his goal, his heaven, his salvation. The ray of light reflected on the leather bound books in their cases, the stained glass windows adding colour to the beautiful picture that was disclosed to the distraught man. At the sight Jonathan sank to his knees and started crying, safety at last. None would be so cruel to take away his prize now, would they? Not when it was so close within grasp, he could smell the metals in the ink, the leather, the paper, the embodiment of knowledge as it wafted towards him as fresh air from outside entered the library. The scent gave Jonathan the feeling of an old friend greeting him after years of having lost contact; the feeling a dog probably has when you throw the ball away and it can retrieve it, just for you; slowly Jonathan started to crawl towards the nearest bookcase he could find, dribbles of snot running from his nose, eyes red from the tears that were now rolling down his cheecks.

Those Landers that dared to come within five feet of Jonathan tried their best to ignore him as best they could even though they gave this raving madman a berth, most however remained at least as far away as their duties of goals let them, lest this lunacy would be contagious. The library staff was eyeing every inch Jonathan crawled with a mixture of interest, disgust and fear. As Jonathan finally managed to reach the bookcase, a mean feat that took about five minutes though any sane and normal person would take about twenty seconds to reach it, Jonathan stretched out a long, slender arm with his fingers outstretched, grasping, reaching, seeking and desiring for them to touch the first leather bound book they could find... he needed it, he desired it, he wanted to consume all the knowledge it contained, no matter how long it took him. Knowdledge had been his main companion during all the years of his life, the one that never betrayed, deserted or hurt him.

'What if I can't read it... what if it's in a language I don't know...' a sudden shock went through his body as Jonathan felt his fingers touch the soft leather. 'What if it is just an empty book, put here to torment me or even worse... there is only one page written, hidden somewhere amongst all these books, what cruel a fate that would be! What did I do to deserve that?' his thoughts continued as his sobbing and snickering increased, pulling the book slowly closer. If none of the bystanders would have thought he was an escaped lunatic from the mental asylum, they would be surely thinking it now as Jonathan's body started rocking back and forth as he was being tormented with the harsh possibilities of this new reality.

'I need to read, I can't live without it, if it is in a language I don't know I shall learn it, master it, over and over again!' he thought resolutley and yet desperatly, pulling the book against his chest, savouring the moment as if he was cuddling with his newborn child or a sacred treasure. 'I will overcome this challenge or I shall die trying!' he thought, trying to snort up his snot, wiping the remainder from his face with the cuffs of his shirt. His eyes still red Jonathan opened the book and gasped.

WC: 608

[Micaiah]

It never seemed to matter how many times Micaiah entered the buzzing streets of Romalia, as the busy atmosphere and sheer number of people was a tad bit overwhelming for the flustered nun. As someone who’d lived most of their life in the sticks, the thick crowd was quite out of her comfort zone, and the city now seemed to be more crowded than she’d witnessed it ever been. Regardless of which street she turned onto, a great sense of distress seemed to linger in the air, as presumably homeless visitors hunkered down against the walls with unsettled expressions. The guards seemed to have their hands filled to the brim, each swarmed by their very own gathering of people. What sort of event could be causing the amass of such a great migration to Romalia? Unbeknownst to the true cause, Micaiah gave a solemn prayer to a safe journey home back to Tivoli once her task was completed.

Being among the youngest members over at her church, it somehow ended up with her being the one running whatever errands that took place outside of Tivoli. “The young blood and bones that has yet to ache” and all that. But it’s not like she minded the chore. On the contrary, she was happy that her colleague put enough faith in her to handle these duties without the need of some overseer. And the chance to experience the outside world was nothing but a treat in itself. Although she’d have to admit that the 6 hour-ish round-trip to Romalia with fortunate weather was a rather rough journey. Her business there today regarded a commission made to the Angilevia library to replicate a dozen of their older volumes back at home which looked worse for wear with the aged discolored parchment and faded letter and paragraphs straining the poor eyes of the elderly.

Without the help of the aforementioned city guard that were more than preoccupied with their own set of problems, it’d end up consuming a fair amount of her time walking around before arriving at the correct destination. It would the first time Micaiah was be visiting a proper library outside the relatively small one they had at the church, which she found quite exciting. The mighty grounds in front of her was reserved for literature, and literature alone. Bypassing the many pillars before the entrance with haste in her step, she came to an ultimate halt after reaching the old wooden doors. What were the proper way of conduct in a grand library such as this? There was already a taboo to raise one’s voice at the one back home that led to a stern warning at the minimum. With the scale being that much higher, the expected repercussions in a place like this was quite daunting to imagine. And with such a possible bleak future plaguing her mind, Micaiah meekly entered the library.

Surely enough, while Micaiah would far from regard herself as a fanatic for literature, it was hard enough not to let go of a short gasp in awe upon the view that greeted any newcomer coming to seek the revered halls beyond its walls. It was obviously far grander than any collection of books in Tivoli, as it surely surpassed their modest numbers several times over. As expected from a library of the capital, it was in a league of it own to be sure. Another pleasant experience that’d make those 6 hours of travel all that more worth it.

As she made her way inside, the gentle scent of paper permeating the air could be felt along with a refined silence, where the mere noises of walking started to sound like a grievous offence. A self-important man which looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties caught Micaiah’s attention. He was sitting absorbed in his work, behind a desk that could only justifiably be described as being swamped. With volumes, parchments and other paperwork towering him from several directions. It sort of made her make sense of what an ‘intellectual’ feel turned out to be in real life.

With none else in the vicinity giving off the same sense as being among the ones in charge, she cautiously approached him as to not disturb his work. That said, it would become rather problematic to state purpose there if it turned out she wasn’t allowed to speak in here. And so not knowing what to do, she restlessly awaited at the desk.

---

A couple of minutes had already passed, and the unbothered man in front of her seemed to show no intent of stopping whatever he did anytime soon. With the curiosity winning her over, the thought of leaning over to confirm what he did compelled her somewhat. Surely there’d be no harm in such? She didn’t want to risk him starting up something else if she went away so a peek should be fine- “Unless you have some business to speak of with me you’d be off to a good start by stop wasting my time.” He revealed to have noted her presence with a cold indifference, without a glance to spare. “Oh, but yes of course. Pardon my dawdling, I wasn’t sure if I’d be allowed to speak in a place like this. It’s my first time in a place like this you see.” He must be busy huh. It made her feel a little bad for holding up his time spent waiting for her while overthinking things. “I’ve come over from Tivoli regar-“ “Yes, yes, from that sect in Tivoli right? If I remember correctly, besides the copy commission you also wanted the newer volumes of Causter Augustone, Attucus Verdio and Anton Octavius correct? Hey Mario!” Responding almost immediately, a lanky man popped out from the side of a bookshelf in the distance with a salute, before taking note of her presence and seemed to be somewhat embarrassed with the notion. “Bring the Tivoli stuff here!” And as soon as he appeared, he vanished right back into the shelves. The man in front of her scratched his head a bit with the quill he’d been writing with a few moments earlier, making her wonder how much ink had ended up on his scalp from such a habit. Finaly glancing her way for the first time, he clicked his tongue as he averted it once more with a troubled expression “A-Anyway! Go do whatever for a while. Mario will come and get you once the goods is ready for pick up. Now go away.” He prompted her while motioning for her to scoot away with a few waves.

With that being the case, Micaiah opted to wander the premise as to not bother the librarian. But surely it wouldn’t take so long as to where she could make any sort of meaningful progress into a book, even a short one? It was a rather troublesome situation indeed. And it didn’t seem as if anyone would appreciate her walking up to them for a talk. Speaking of… The air seemed to have turned sour at some point. Afraid she’d caused a commotion with her exchange; Micaiah came to a stop. Maybe if she didn’t make any sound it’d be okay. But none was looking her way. Instead, they were directed onto a tall man around her own age on his knees, with the glistening substance rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the wooden floor. He was in clear distress. She honestly couldn’t recall witnessing a grown man bawling his eyes out before so she could only try and fathom what his reasons were.

Carefully strolling over as to not alert him in his overwhelmed state, Micaiah felt as if she was a predator stalking ever closer towards her prey. Giving yet another try as to peek what another person were looking at the title stood out to her: ‘The art of fostering, steps onto fatherhood, by Novius Artim’. “My! Congratulations Sir, you’re becoming a father?” she whispered with a delighted smile, she went through the motions of a small applause, as they were still in a library and needed to be quiet. No wonder you’d get emotional over that, it was quite the occasion.

---

Sorry for the great delay before I posted^^'

WC: 1367

Color 1: a58405
Color 2: 0560a5

[Izark]

Startled, sobbing and shocked Jonathan looked up at the voice.
"A... father?" he whispered, "No... not as far as I'm aware..." he softly spoke, tears rolling down his face.
Snorting up a clobber of snot, which was all but charming, he inhaled deeply.

"Does this... do you... can you... YOU CAN READ THIS!" he exclaimed, a large, tear stained smile appearing on his face.
"I'm willing to do almost anything if you could help me read books, please teach me!" he blurted out, looking at the black, cloth wearing person in front of him. She reminded him of an ancient nun in one of the monestaries.

"Are you... are you a woman of the cloth by any chance?" he asked as he slowly sat upright, cuddling the book on parenthood tightly against his chest, crossing his legs. "I'm Jonathan, I just got here and I'm scared truth be told. I think I'd rather die than never be able to read again. I used to read a lot, back home, it sort of became my life and my work. Then I started playing this game and all of a sudden I'm here." Jonathan blabberd on. "Or perhaps you are the tutorial starter and here to show me the workings of this world?" he asked hopeful, looking at the girl with red eyes and dried tears on his face.

WC: 227