The Professor nodded glad that his colleague could interpret the Nadar-canoch. It was people like him, the abnormally bright humans, which led Rayage to believer that there was still hope for Wizards as a group yet. Although it still went to prove that if this human could learn it then there was no excuse for other mages not to know it except for laziness. The nuit did not take into account the other half a million things that could prevent someone from learning Nadar-canoch because ‘laziness’ was the only answer in his mind. It would be the undoing of many wizards, that and a lack of common sense, granted that is usually caused by overgiving, he has seen before people with a surprising lack of sense. It did not surprise him when they did not last long, yet alone when they chose to take up magic… well that was almost laughable.
Though the book was in Hadrains hands Rayage a bit annoyed at how slow the man read the ancient language. Though he still had to give the Professor props for being able to read it in the first place, he knew that this world was not nearly as magically advanced as the one that hailed from so long ago. Not from a distant planet Rayage was, but from another time altogether. They two could be compared as one would find that the creatures would act shockingly similar. Though Ray didn’t consider himself strange or awkward other people might.
Nevertheless page after page turned, the nuit resisting the urge to rip the book out of the younger mans hands so he could control the flow of parchment and knowledge. He was getting impatient, and it would show as he forced himself to read even faster, absorbing the knowledge like some sponge. The nuit after all are known for having superb memory. Maybe it was a side effect of being a product of animation? Though the undead had no time for pondering that right now, he had a freaking lost discipline in his hands, not literally, and he was going to figure out how it worked.
Pages and pages more they read through, e-v-e-n-t-u-a-l-l-y as Hadrain could piece together the language. It was simple for Rayage, being one of the first languages he learned it was akin to the common tongue to him and the rest of the world. Common, was the most common language spoken, and although it has changed with many words and dialects it remained mostly the same, undisturbed. Of course there was what was once common called “Old Common” or something like that, but it was really the same language, or perhaps what todays common was born from. Yes, that would be a more accurate description.
Languages aside he read keeping all of his thoughts to himself. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Living buildings that actually had personality and could learn magic. It wasn’t much unlike Animation, but it wasn’t animation. It went further, deeper, better than animation ever could. This was life itself, it was perhaps a ‘better’ form of the more known discipline of animation? Not knowing much of either field the nuit had only things to guess at and lines, granted very vague lines, to connect here or there completing his rather complex web of understanding.
This, this was what he had been searching for all this time. No, not this discipline individually, but lost magic as a whole. It did exist and it could be revived. Fragments of ancient power were strewn across the land and it was up to him to just pick up the pieces and put them back together. This, this was a fragment, a core discipline of lost knowledge. He wanted to ask Hadrian if he couldn’t keep the book for further study, as it would take the other wizard probably twice as long to read the whole book than it would take the nuit, but he refrained himself being, for now, continent to read and memorize as much information as possible. He would come upon that subject at a later time, he was sure.
When they had read the very basics of the discipline, multiple accounts from ‘architectrix wizards’ themselves it dawned on Ray what a task harnessing this magic is. What a burden, but a self-inflicted one. A danger, but it could also be a benefit. His thoughts drifted to his shop in Sunberth, sure, not the best place to put a –magical- building but it was the only building he owned. Maybe if he could find this art he would wait until he found a safer location to breathe life into?
”Ghosts.” the one word rolled off of the nuits tongue, spoken in common, ”The way the man acted.” he was trying to piece together things. Turning to the stone slabs that slid and attracted his attention, ’Those.” he pointed to them being suspended in the air by an unknown force, ”A book on Architectrix.” he paused, ”You don’t think…” he kept his thoughts to himself as he puzzled it together. It was like the man was talking to an unknown someone, but it could just be that god that Wrenmae went to see. The slabs were explainable by some other force of magic, of that he was sure.
Though the book was in Hadrains hands Rayage a bit annoyed at how slow the man read the ancient language. Though he still had to give the Professor props for being able to read it in the first place, he knew that this world was not nearly as magically advanced as the one that hailed from so long ago. Not from a distant planet Rayage was, but from another time altogether. They two could be compared as one would find that the creatures would act shockingly similar. Though Ray didn’t consider himself strange or awkward other people might.
Nevertheless page after page turned, the nuit resisting the urge to rip the book out of the younger mans hands so he could control the flow of parchment and knowledge. He was getting impatient, and it would show as he forced himself to read even faster, absorbing the knowledge like some sponge. The nuit after all are known for having superb memory. Maybe it was a side effect of being a product of animation? Though the undead had no time for pondering that right now, he had a freaking lost discipline in his hands, not literally, and he was going to figure out how it worked.
Pages and pages more they read through, e-v-e-n-t-u-a-l-l-y as Hadrain could piece together the language. It was simple for Rayage, being one of the first languages he learned it was akin to the common tongue to him and the rest of the world. Common, was the most common language spoken, and although it has changed with many words and dialects it remained mostly the same, undisturbed. Of course there was what was once common called “Old Common” or something like that, but it was really the same language, or perhaps what todays common was born from. Yes, that would be a more accurate description.
Languages aside he read keeping all of his thoughts to himself. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Living buildings that actually had personality and could learn magic. It wasn’t much unlike Animation, but it wasn’t animation. It went further, deeper, better than animation ever could. This was life itself, it was perhaps a ‘better’ form of the more known discipline of animation? Not knowing much of either field the nuit had only things to guess at and lines, granted very vague lines, to connect here or there completing his rather complex web of understanding.
This, this was what he had been searching for all this time. No, not this discipline individually, but lost magic as a whole. It did exist and it could be revived. Fragments of ancient power were strewn across the land and it was up to him to just pick up the pieces and put them back together. This, this was a fragment, a core discipline of lost knowledge. He wanted to ask Hadrian if he couldn’t keep the book for further study, as it would take the other wizard probably twice as long to read the whole book than it would take the nuit, but he refrained himself being, for now, continent to read and memorize as much information as possible. He would come upon that subject at a later time, he was sure.
When they had read the very basics of the discipline, multiple accounts from ‘architectrix wizards’ themselves it dawned on Ray what a task harnessing this magic is. What a burden, but a self-inflicted one. A danger, but it could also be a benefit. His thoughts drifted to his shop in Sunberth, sure, not the best place to put a –magical- building but it was the only building he owned. Maybe if he could find this art he would wait until he found a safer location to breathe life into?
”Ghosts.” the one word rolled off of the nuits tongue, spoken in common, ”The way the man acted.” he was trying to piece together things. Turning to the stone slabs that slid and attracted his attention, ’Those.” he pointed to them being suspended in the air by an unknown force, ”A book on Architectrix.” he paused, ”You don’t think…” he kept his thoughts to himself as he puzzled it together. It was like the man was talking to an unknown someone, but it could just be that god that Wrenmae went to see. The slabs were explainable by some other force of magic, of that he was sure.
