>>5268134>>5268159>>5268163>>5268244>>5268248>>5268253>>5268274>>5268322>>5268276You roam the circumference of the great, round room, roving the shelves with eyes and mind ever moving. You could teach yourself Transmutation, mastering matter and maybe even modifying YOURSELF into something yet more draconic… Or, with Elementalism, perhaps you could modify your breath weapon to facilitate means of attack beyond ‘mere’ dragonfire? Enchantment is a VERY strong contender—the blasted Novice could never criticize your equipment again, if you were to imbue them with arcane durability and added effects, after all! And Mentalism and Demonology, considered lowly arts in some quarters, nevertheless speak to you on some deep level that you can’t quite understand…
But then you catch a glimpse of shining, silvery scroll-seal, and you feel a flicker of some second sense—almost like the Fearsome Presence of another dragon, like your brother when his servants are too slow to serve him. You squint, trying to see it more closely, and you are able to recognize the symbol: the arrangement of stars which is known to the Serpent Priests as Draco Stellaris, the Star Dragon! You’ve never seen it before, but in their predictive divinations, it is said to align with the ideal time to crown a king, to sire an heir, or to select a successor or lieutenant.
Divination… Yes, to forge your own path in a way optimal with the Great Design set in place before your birth! To know, unfailingly, when the Stars are Right for your ascent! To commune directly with the will of those Below and Beyond!
The scroll is too high for you to reach by normal means, even with your remarkable height… But luckily, you already have a LITTLE magic of your own. You squeeze shut your eyes, take in a deep breath, and think of wings. You remember—REMEMBER—the racial memory of flight, of freedom and sovereignty and rushing air, or land far below and the sky’s starry firmament close enough to ouch with draconic talons… Close enough to reach out and grab one!
You <JUMP>, and grab the silver-sealed divination scroll as you pass its high-up shelf. Rebounding off of the ceiling above, you stick the three-point landing, rattling a nearby cart of books and scrolls and nearly upending it. The library’s keeper glowers at you in a mix of confusion and annoyance, but you hold your prize: a scroll of Divination!
“Show off,” scoffs the Novice, once more at your side and with two thin, hidebound manuals tucked under her arm and propped on one hip. “They HAVE a rolling ladder which you can use to get up there.”
“You were using it,” you point out.
“Impatient and arrogant in equal measures,” she comments.
“’Efficient' is a better descriptor,” you reply. “I would also accept ‘victorious’.”
“May you triumph so well in EVERY battle as in this meaningless errand,” the Novice says, voice dripping irony like a cockatrice drips venom.
