Paprika drops her bags on the nearer of the two beds. The clasp of her satchel comes open as she places it down, allowing her cat to jump out – one of several reasons she chose to room with Canary. She also grabs her seamstress’s kit and fabric out of her backpack: an extremely thorough and well-made set of tools.
“I’m starting the dress, by the way. I’ll need your measurements.” Another reason she chose to room with Canary.
Drakor moved to the second room and began unpacking his bedroll.
The contents of the page are still the same!
…but maybe the author is just confused? I mean, they seem to have put “people blessed by unicorns to have magic powers” in the same general category too, and everyone* knows that unicorns aren’t celestials.
* fact check: many people in-universe in fact know fairly little about the classification of different kinds of magical creatures
“…Mph.” I really wouldn’t like her to do that.
Just… do it. Then it’s done. Until I have to actually interact with the dress in any way.
I put the book down and wait.
(Are there windows?)
Paprika looks at Canary more carefully than she has before. It’s funny, she doesn’t seem that tall when you’re interacting with her.
“Are there any spells that would make me taller?” she mutters under her breath, barely audible. She already knows the answer: she’s checked plenty of times, and she knows for a fact she cannot learn any of them.
Taking out her measuring tape, she checks Canary’s proportions with a practiced hand.
Yes! The windows are glass, although there are also curtains you can draw if you want to, for example, not be woken up at the crack of dawn by the sun.
…It seems like something a spell would do.
Once finished, Canary sits still.
Paprika gets to work on tracing out shapes on her roll of fabric. I don’t have any kind of dress form here. I bet Canary’s sitting still enough that I could pin this on her.
It’s not quite time for that yet, so Paprika just traces and cuts on her own bed.
(As mentioned before, taking 10 + Paprika’s Craft skill (+8) + Masterwork tools (+2) provides a 20, allowing Paprika to make this dress in a week.)
As she’s working, Paprika’s cat sniffs her tools curiously. After being shooed away, the cat jumps up onto Canary’s bed, sniffing her curiously.
She cautiously moves away from the animal, scooting a bit to the side after discovering leaning backwards didn’t make the cat leave.
“Aurora is not a problem.”
Paprika appears to be manifesting?
Once he finished unpacking, Drakor moved to the window and looked outside.
Canary awkwardly moves to the opposite side of the bed, then lays back down.
Aurora is obviously (to anybody who does not fear cats) dangerous in any way, but she’s certainly curious.
Paprika continues to work on her dress as if indicating she is happy to timeskip to supper.
She’s reading other sections of her wizard tradition book. She doesn’t really look too thrilled about it.
(i’m also fine with timeskipping)
(What do I see?)
The sun is setting, but there’s still enough light for you to get a good look at the view. The rain has finally let up, but the ground is still covered in puddles. There’s a brown-and-grey sparrow staring angrily at its reflection in the water, and a family attempting to stop some young children from intentionally stomping through the puddles on purpose.
The necromancy section is of…… rather questionable quality. The author appears to hold the opinion that literally every spell of the “Necromancy” school is intrinsically unethical to use, even completely ordinary spells like False Life (which essentially gives the caster some temporary vitality to fend off injuries) or Cause Fear (which you saw Wanderer cast earlier today).
Supper is clearly also inspired by Galtan traditions, adapted to locally-available ingredients. The main dish is pork sauteed with diced onions, celery, and carrots, with apricot tarts and Galtan-style crustless rolls of white bread on the side. The establishment has apparently secured permission to serve alcohol, which it is using exclusively to serve imported Galtan wines.
There are a few other patrons dining here; based on their clothing, there’s definitely a skew towards people who are reasonably wealthy (unsurprising, considering the price). Perhaps surprisingly, it seems that the Amélie for whom the business is named is also dining among you, at her own table; you’d guess that she’s in her fifties, or maybe her early sixties.
(wanderer… is… unethical…)
{…The entire book isn’t. Accurate.}
Canary sighs.