A tall man sat alone a table, an old, tattered manuscript layed out in front of him. A cloak was draped over the seat behind him, and a sword lay all but forgotten on the floor beneath his seat. His name was O'sanagar, and at the moment, he was very frustrated. The manuscript his was so involved in at the moment was self proclaimed to be the most important document on pyromancey, a subject that greatly fasinated O'sanagr. He had even went to the trouble of actualy buying a book to begin the coppying of spells. Normaly he would have killed or stolen it. However, the book he was absorbed in had only given the mearest hints to actual incantations, motio0ns, or ingrediants. Mostly, it had to do with controling the spells.

"Damned library," he growled, holding in a desire to transform and begin to bring the building down around him. He tossed the paper away from him and rose to begin searching again.

Luckily, he had not run into any custodians, or he would have been expelled. Of course, that would be after they found what was left of the body, and after they figured out who he was.

Running his hand through his spiked red and black hair, the half demon half drago began to assult the shelves once more, searching for the book that would give him his spells.

The library was a welcoming place, brighter then she had hoped, but not everything could possibly be going her way. It was imposable for the most part. The librarian had been busy with some other people when she had arrived so she took it upon herself to find what she was looking for. She had, as far as she could remember, grew up in a library. They group was too noisy for a library as it was, no she doubted that she had even been seen.

Fera had tread carefully through the halls as it was very hard for her to actually see. She was getting the hang of seeing in firelight. Candles were fine, torches a bit worse. The sun was just imposable to see anything by. Due to this she had shed away from the outer walls and the well lit more trafficked areas in search of darker areas where she could actually see.

The small woman’s original reason for coming here was soon forgotten after her arrival. This place had colors and life that was in stark contrast with the underground library she had left behind. She forgot about shapeshifters entirely as she sought out anything that caught her interest. The place was huge.

As she stood in one aisle looking over titles having trouble deciding which to read first she heard a voice that almost reminded her of Uillium. It wasn’t him, but… Why would someone want to damn a library?She picked a text at random from the shelf and went to find out why someone would want to say such a thing as “Damned library” anyways. She turned around the end of the bookshelf and saw a tall red haired man looking for something. Glancing around she made out the outline of a table under the flickering flames that allowed so many others to see. A dark cloak or something like that lay on one of the chairs.

She leaned her staff against the bookshelves and smoothed her cream and rust colored dress nervously. He didn’t seem to have noticed her yet so she quietly asked the question that had gone through her mind. “Pardon me sir, but why would you wish to damn a library?”

O'sangar was now toosing texts of of the shelves after looking at them. They litterd the floor behind him and he rid himself of the useless papers. A frown was all but embeded on his face, and he was looking through the shelves with both hands. Why would anyone want to sit around and look through all this? What was the point. O'sangar saw none, since he couldn't find what he was looking for. He was very seriously contemplating changing and bring the building down around him.

O'sangar continued tossing books, then suddenly stopped in mid thow. He brought his arm back in front of him and looked at the book. Spells From the Heart of Fire. He stared at it for a moment, then grinned. Finaly this place had given him what he wanted.

“Pardon me sir, but why would you wish to damn a library?”

O'saganr jumped at the voice, whirling around to face whoever had snuck up on him. He was looking at a young girl, perhaps sixteen, mabye younger. He raised an eyebrow as he looked into her inquisative eyes. She was odd looking. Her skin was a sickly color, grayish, and her eyes silver. Her hair was brown, making the total appearence a clash. "I would want to damn the library becuase it is a ussless pile of paper and bound leather. What's it to you anyway? Do you think to report to the librarians little girl?"

((OOC: Black hair that appears to fade into rust at the ends, not brown hair :D ))

She dismissed the second question with a wave of her hand. Setting the book in her hand on the nearest shelf she commented on it anyways, “I haven’t found a librarian who wasn’t in the middle of helping someone else yet, so I don’t see the point in finding one unless you really feel you need their help and don’t mind the long wait.” She went over to the scattered mess of manuscripts on the floor and bent her knees in order to pick them up.

One by one she started gathering them into tidy stacks on the floor as she decided to give her opinion on libraries. “The way I figure it most of the information stored here is in fact quite useless, as you say. But it wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t useful to someone at some time. The more educated someone is the less useful they find so many books. The ones they are looking for are then very specific; perhaps only one page in a single book will hold the information they want. It takes more time to learn things then, forcing people to study. Someone just learning to read though, or someone looking for more general information would be able to pick up any book that even slightly mentions a subject and would find it useful. Take that one step further, to someone who is illiterate, and the entire building serves no purpose what so ever.” The mess only took her a short time to organize and she picked up a stack to place them back on the shelf.

“Then there are the people like me who librarians are similar to, but who would hate me if I actually worked here. I just like to read and books in general, odd as it is.” Placing the stack back on the shelf near where he stood Fera paused to regard him for a short moment. “I probably talk to much also. I’m Fera. Fera Varqua. May I know your name sir?”