Flashback She Kindly Stopped For Me

[Philomena]

28th Day of Summer, 492 AV
Evening, early
Navigation Hall, University of Zeltiva
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"Those of you, of course, who travelled from elsewhere in our fine land to attend classes her in Zeltiva may not believe me when I say this, but what I ordered was simply a kelp-beer. After drinking the eisswein of the Northern reaches, the fermented mare's milk of the south, the heady concoctions of blossoms of the healer-folk, after all this, my heart went back to plain, old, fishy-salty, Kelp beer. It was like tasting home. I did not, at that point, even think of what Captain Wright was doing anymore. I sat there and, I'll be the first to confess, just sobbed into my beer."

The lecture hall laughed. Minnie did not. Hannah Watchtower! Hannah Watchtower, who was growing old and frail now, rarely lectured at all, and here she was! Speaking, from first hand experience! How could they all just sit back and do nothing? She scrawled out shorthand with a breakneck speed, making crude sketches along the side in the pauses to remember hand gestures, the woman's way of tossing her head back, the pattern embroidered on her blouse. There was no time for laughter!

"Of course, there's little to tell after that, and you didn't come to hear me tell you about bibliography. So, why don't we open the floor for questions? Anyone?"

Minnie shrank back. That was all? Questions, now? She hadn't had time, time to prepare her wording, time to build herself up to the pitch to ask!

"You there, yes. The gentleman in the red. Don't be shy."

"Miss Watchtower. What was it like? The fever I mean. What did it... feel like?"

That? That was it? Minnie panicked. There were seven minutes left, and this... boy! ... was asking questions that were already CLEARLY DOCUMENTED IN THE LITERATURE! How were they to mine the last remnants from this heroine, before she went the way of all flesh, if they couldn't remember to avoid documented data?

"... and of course, the crawling sensation of the second and third days..."

//No, no! No, not panic, Minnie, not panic! Stop! Think! Get your wording.//

"Does that answer your question alright? Yes. Lovely. You there, the girl in the ... erm... ascot."

Minnie squeaked. Her hand, what was it doing? It was up! Her hand was up! She stood, gripping the desk. How had this happened? She hadn't raised her hand!

"Miss Hightower... I..."

Hannah laughed, "Watchtower, my dear. But its nothing. Don't be shy."

"Miss... Watchtower..." she breathed deep, closed her eyes. Suddenly it was much easier. So that is what she did. She squeezed her eyes shut, and threw her question into the void, unable to even see her target, "Doctor Watchtower, in your notes you gave at the Navigation Conference of 461 on the Rockward Island Passage, you stated that the strategy Captain Wright," saying the name, she convulsively reached for and touched just above her breast, where her Charm Wright miza rested inside her hem, "that the strategy she took when the winds came up was to veer to starboard, not port as one might normally do, because of the leeward currents of the channel. Then, earlier this evening, you stated that you saw Mr Plankman thrown off the ship and against a wall of solid granite. However, in Captain de Octans surveys of the island in the years preceding the circumnavigation, he stated that the southward end of the island, where you would have been steered toward, and presumably where a leeward wind would have hurled a man against, were simply basalt, and of little value, despite the granite outcroppings of the continental shelf in that location. Was Captain de Octans mistaken? Or did a crosswind take Mr. Plankman? Or am I mistaken in my calculations? I'm... I'm not a navigation student, I might... be wrong... I..."

She stopped searching for an end to her sentence and opened her eyes now, her chest heaving and flushed. Hannah Watchtower stared back at her, blank and silent a moment. Then the great woman blushed, "Well... Miss... what was your name, dear?"

"Miss Lefting, Ma'am, Minnie Lefting. A student of literature."

"Yes, well, Miss Lefting. I can only apologize. I too was a literature student once, and you'll understand, I hope, I took some artistic license. You are correct, I imagine, in honesty I wouldn't be able to identify the stone, it was all such a haze, but... it was columnar... yes, I think you may be right. It was columnar, as Captain de Octans described it, I believe one of the sailors remarked on it, before the wind came up, that it looked like great teeth, I think he said. I'd forgotten that. Yes, it must have been basalt," she smiled, and nodded politely, "I can only promise, I shall tell the story differently from now on, my young scholar."

Minnie's eyes went wide, though at the detail more than the praise, "A sailor... do you know which? I don't think... I don't think that's documented anywhere!"

She smiled, kindly, "Horace Tillerman. He was a very colorful speaker. Perhaps, if you would like some more specific detail, I could spare a few moments later? My secretary will get hold of you to set something up."

Minnie NOW felt a personal rather than a professional shock. To her dying day, she couldn't remember what she said in reply. But she sat down, that she knew. And aside from writing 'Horace Tillerman' underneath where she had scribbled the quote and 'basalt, NOT granite' with a set of coordinates, she didn't write another note on another question, the rest of the evening.

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Dr. Watchtower's home was quite imposing - not as forbidding as Wright Manor, but grander than any home to which Minnie had ever been personally invited - that being a short list to start with. A butler came when she rang, staring at her with an undisguised distaste.

"Miss... Lefting, I presume?"

"Yessir..."

"This way. May I take your... covering?"

The mackintosh Minnie wore had been torn and restitched so many times as to have no usable sleeves anymore - they hung off the sides of the accidental cloak like crippled wings.

"Oh, its alright... I'm very chilly, sir, anyway, I'm alright..."

HE frowned, sneering irritably at the word 'sir', and ignored the content of her response, taking her coat-cloak-mack, and laying it over his arm gingerly. He turned toward the great entrance chamber, leading her to a filigreed door, which he opened to reveal Hannah Watchtower, sitting at a silver breakfast service, nibbling at the whitest bread Minnie had ever laid eyes on - and what was more, coffee. The smell drove her mad. She'd wanted coffee for years, but knew she could never afford something so rich and luxurious. She went to the market sometimes simply to stand and sniff the stuff.

"Miss Lefting, do come in! I hope you brought your papers as promised? I'm dying to see them!"

"Yes ma'am."

"Sit, sit!"

She sat, clumsily, in the chair next to Dr. Watchtower's own, as the butler pulled it out for her.

"Dorrings, that will be all, thank you."

The butler left, shutting the door, and Hannah's face changed entirely, taking an almost childlike mischief to its lips, "Now, then! Just us girls! Ms. Lefting, you MUST show me the work you've been doing. I asked around in the literature department and none of the doctors even knew about it! What is the secrecy? Who is your advisor?"

"Oh, I don't... don't have a personal one, I can't afford that. I'm trying to matriculate independently, with just the graduate students for assistance. I... I'm a scholarship girl, m'am, I hope you won't... won't mind."

"Mind? Nonsense! My roommate, back in the VERY old days of course, was a scholarship girl, and after all, she grew up to be the head of the Philosophy department! But what is this about you not having an advisor? That won't do! Now, show me this bit of work."

From her side, Minnie took her satchel, and very carefully took out her copy: The Reader's Guide to Wright's Circumnavigation. It was far from done, of course. She was only just to the passage she'd asked Miss Hightower about in the lecture, and knew she'd left some horrible gaps even before that.

"I'm afraid... you'll be disappointed, ma'am. Its very shoddy still. I didn't... talk about it, because I can't imagine... the professors would think... well, that they would think I'm anything but presumptuous, ma'am. REally it was just a way to collect my notes, I know its not--"

"Hush! What's this?"

"That? That's... well, that's... your family tree, Dr. Watchtower. Did I... make an error..."

"Well, I'm not sure. This is... my Grandpa Charlie? He was married twice?"

"Yes ma'am... I... I mean I think so. There was record of it in the registry, at any rate."

"Who are these two girls beneath him?"

"They'd be... your aunts, ma'am. But noone seems to know just where they went. The first wife, she left him very early..."

"I had no idea! Poor Grandpa Charlie."

"I'd always assumed that... it was a romantic issue, but there's, of course... not so much in the way... oh I'm being presumptive, I'm sorry! All this, is only guessing, and I don't really know, I haven't really looked as hard as I could at... at that part yet."

"No, no! I'm... I'm so glad to know it. My Grandfather was always a very strange man, emotionally distant and fiercely protective, all at once. I wonder, if this all explains it somehow."

Minnie blushed, unsure of what to offer. The research was fairly clear on the first wife and the missing aunts, as far as census and marriage records ever were, but such records were bare, cold facts. They offered little data about the implications of the period of Charles Edgetower's life, or that of his family.

Hannah laughed - it was a slightly soggy laugh, with the edge of possible tears, but controlled, "I'm making you uncomfortable, though! Come, take me to... yes! Here we are! This would be the arguments against sending Timothy de Octans... very interesting. That is very well put. But of course, less convincing than if you had actual quotes."

"Yes, ma'am, I could find no primary sources available, I'm afraid."

"Nonsense. Did you try the Sailor's Guild? Much of those meetings was public record. They'd have archives of meeting minutes, I'd think."

"Well, the Guild... they are not always..."

She laughed, "Cooperative? They've had a lot of voyeurs pretending to be scholars over the years. I know a few people in the archives, let me see if I can get you access. And, you'll need to tighten up this nonsense about the ship's keel being laid. Your'e mixing what they planned with what they actually executed. An honest mistake, but one I'd hate to see creep into your work."

"Ma'am... excuse me, but..."

"Yes?"

"Are you... are you editing my notes?"

"Is that a problem? Oh don't tell me you've a fragile ego about these things!"

"No! No, ma'am! I... I was just surprised you'd... you'd take the time..."

Dr. Watchtower laughed, a long, throaty laugh, "Well, I did say you needed a full time advisor, didn't I? If you can't afford a proper one, you will have to have me."

She only stared at this.

"Well, say something girl. I'll get offended, otherwise."

"I'm... I'm... "

"Are you worried because I'm not in your department? I assure you, the university gives me... flexibility, as it were, in these things. Particularly since your interest and my knowledge are such an obvious fit."

"Ma'am... I... I've never..."

"Come now. Deep breath. Say it. If we keep up all this stammering we'll never get done with your guide. I'm an old woman, you know! My clock is winding down!"

"I'm... I only mean to say, I have never been so honored, ma'am."

She grinned, "Think nothing of it. When you grow old like me, you grow a bit narcissistic. Do you think I get nothing out of hashing the finer details of my glory days with an astute acolyte?"

And then, Dr. Hannah Watchtower, the heroine of the university, winked.

[Arcane]

Rewards and Treasure! Experience Points +3 Storytelling +4 Teaching Lores Hannah Watchtower the Doctoral Supervisor Dorrings the Butler of Hannah Watchtower Hannah Watchtower's Lecture of Summer 492 AV Various Alcohol From Different Regions Undocumented Sailor: Horace Tillerman Fact Revisions: Basalt, Not Granite Comments The teaching is for the various explanations and whatnot, in case you're not sure where it came from. The way you mixed established facts in the Lore and your own little details are excellent in the way that they're so well integrated, yet your own stuff do not clash with existing lore and can even co-exist very nicely. This shows your extremely solid grasp of our Zeltivan lore. I am proud of you, and so will Qayala. Do note that if you do wish to apply for a Qayala gnosis thread, you can use this thread and a bunch of your other threads where you demonstrated Qayala-ish traits (even little things like how you insisted on writing Charm's story in that previous thread) as evidence of your faith. Also, if you wish to further develop/add NPCs into official lore do feel free too! The Zeltivan staff would be honored.

[Arcane]

Addendum Experience Points +2 Research Comments This award is in addition to the one above. The Research XP is mainly for the indirect research that I inferred Phil must have done in order to come up with that content. It's also my way of properly rewarding you for the good story