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Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Grand Magister's Corridor
Grand Magister's Door

Your knock echoes against the carved wood of the Grand Magister’s door, the dragon crest seeming to watch in silence as no answer comes. The corridor's air becomes a held breath, filled only with the soft flicker of torchlight and the faint chill of stone.

Then come footsteps, steady and unhurried, drawing closer from behind. When you turn, you find a Wood Fae approaching—young in appearance, though something in his gaze speaks of long years. His robes mark him as faculty, the folds trimmed with the academy’s sigil, and though his expression is serious, there is a calm steadiness in it that feels almost reassuring.

Professor: Good afternoon. I am Professor Veyn. You seem a bit out of place in this corridor. Can I help you with something?

Visitor: I was hoping to find Lady Isa, the Grand Magister. I am helping the gargoyle on the bridge. He has forgotten his name and asked if I could try to discover it for him.

Professor Veyn: Ah. The gargoyle on the bridge. He has been there since the first stones were laid. If there were ever records of his creation or his name they would be kept in the Office of Works and Wards. That is where all the construction plans and enchantment logs are stored.

Visitor: The Office of Works and Wards?

Professor Veyn in the Hallway

Professor Veyn: Yes, it’s with the Administrative Offices. I see you already have a map. You should be able to find the office from there. Good luck with your search.

Visitor: Thank you, Professor.

Professor Veyn: Of course. Enjoy your time at the Academy.

Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
The Admin Offices
Warden of Works

You step into the quiet order of the Administrative Offices, the scent of ink and parchment heavy in the air. Shelves of rolled scrolls line the stone walls, each labeled with a precision that suggests no one dares misplace a single one. The faint scratch of a quill draws your attention to the Office of Works and Wards, where a dragon shifter sits behind a desk of polished oak. His scales glint faintly beneath his skin, the muted tone of stone and ember, likely a Stone Dragon. He looks up as you enter, molten red eyes narrowing just enough to show that interruptions are not often welcomed here.

Warden of Works: What do you want?

Visitor: I am looking for a record of the gargoyles. One of them has forgotten his name, and I am hoping to find it for him.

Warden of Works: Records are not just for anybody, and I am not helping anyone with anything until after my lunch.

Visitor: When will that be?

Warden of Works: Could be an hour. Could be never, if no one brings it.

Visitor: I would rather not wait. Is there something I can do?

Warden of Works: Now that’s an idea I can stomach. Fetch me something edible, and I’ll help you dig out your stone friend’s record.

Visitor: Where can I get you food?

Warden of Works: Go to the Kitchens. Tell the cooks it is for the Warden of Works, and they will know what to do. Bring me whatever they are cooking up.

Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
The Academy Kitchens
The Master Cook

You step into a warm hall lined with enchanted cauldrons and long wooden tables. The air hums with the scent of herbs, baked bread, and simmering broth, the magic woven into each meal glowing faintly in the steam. Only a few staff remain, moving quietly through the golden light. Near the hearth stands the Master Cook, a Wood Fae with hair like curling vines and eyes bright with welcome. She stirs a pot that gleams green under her touch, and when she notices you, her smile carries the comfort of home.

Visitor: Excuse me. I need a plate of whatever you have today. It’s for the Warden of Works.

Master Cook: Oh, that old dragon is sending folk on errands again. Let me guess, he’s too busy napping over his ledgers to fetch his own meal.

Visitor: Something like that. Can you help me?

Master Cook: Not without coin or an identification card. No meal leaves this kitchen without one. But as the Master Cook, I could make an exception. Are you willing to do something generous for me?

Visitor: What would you need me to do?

Master Cook: There’s a book that’s been passed around this academy longer than I’ve been stirring pots. Secrets of Shapeshifting, Volume III. Many staff and faculty have had a turn with it but me. I think it’s about time it landed in my hands. You bring me that book, and I’ll give you a tray fit for a dragon.

Visitor: Where can I find it?

Master Cook: Professor Tilwyn has it tucked away in his office, but no one gets in there except his aides, the twins. Flirty pair, those two. You just missed them. They left a moment ago, but if you hurry, you might catch up to them in the Grand Refectory.

Visitor: Thank you. I’ll find them.

Master Cook: Good luck!

Meeting the Twins
The Earth Fae Twins


You step out of the warmth of the Kitchens and into the hush of the Grand Refectory. The scent of bread and spice lingers in the still air, mingling with the faint hum of distant conversation. Near the center of the hall stand the twins the Master Cook mentioned, their moss-green hair touched by the soft glow of morning light. They speak in low tones that fade the moment they notice you, eyes meeting yours with quiet curiosity as the space between you seems to hold its breath.

Female Twin: Well look at that, a visitor. You don’t seem lost, but you’re looking at me like you might want to be.

Male Twin: Speak for yourself, sister. Maybe they’re here for me.

Female Twin: Hardly. That look says trouble, and trouble always comes my way.

Male Twin: Then they’re doomed.

Grand Refectory Encounter
Kemetia in the Grand Refectory


The scent of warm bread and herbs drift through the stillness as the male twin leaves. Light from the high windows spills over rows of tables and settles on the young Earth Fae female with moss-green hair threaded with tiny white flowers. Her expression brightens into a smile that mirrors your own, as if she had been expecting the meeting all along.

Female Twin: Hi, I'm Kemetia. Did you want to talk to me?

Visitor: I couldn’t let someone so radiant walk away without saying hello.

Kemetia: Careful, flattery works too well on me. What is it you want, sweetheart?

Visitor: I need help. I’m looking for a book, Secrets of Shapeshifting, Volume III.

Kemetia: Professor Tilwyn’s little treasure. And you expect me to hand it over just like that? You’ll have to earn my help.

Visitor: I’m open to persuasion.

Kemetia: Good answer. I want to impress someone, Chartarix, the archivist in the Gilded Reserve in the library. Find out her favorite flower and come back to me. Do that, and I’ll make sure the book finds its way into your hands. I’ll be waiting for you in the Scriptorium.

Grand Refectory Conversation
Kemetu in the Grand Refectory


The murmur of the Kitchens fade as you turn to the male twin, and his sister exits the Grand Refectory. Sunlight spills across long tables draped in linen, and the scent of baked bread lingers in the still air. The Earth Fae's moss-green hair catches the light like new growth after rain. He gives a knowing smile that mirrors your own, as though he has been expecting the encounter all along.

Male Twin: Well, hello there. I'm Kemetu. You wanted to speak to me?

Visitor: I almost stopped your sister, but something told me you’d be more interesting.

Kemetu: A wise choice. She charms hearts. I test them. So, what do you need?

Visitor: A book. Secrets of Shapeshifting, Volume III. I’m trying to earn a favor for the Warden of Works.

Kemetu: You’re doing errands for the dragon? How tragic. But I suppose you have your reasons.

Visitor: I want to attend the academy, and the gargoyle on the bridge asked for help remembering his name. I thought this might help me earn my place.

Kemetu: Ah, the gargoyle’s mystery. You’re either brave or hopelessly sentimental. Tell you what, if you’re serious about studying here, prove it. Go to the library, into the Shadow Index, and request The Old Theogony.

Visitor: Why?

Kemetu: To answer my question. Research the Chaos Lore and the theories behind it. Then tell what is the name of the Second Theory of the Chaos Lore. Do that, and I’ll get you that book for you.

Visitor: And if I’m wrong?

Kemetu: Then you’ll have learned something. Either way, I win.

Visitor: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

Kemetu: Entirely. Now hurry. I’ll be waiting in the Harmony Rotunda for your answer.

Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Library of Seasons

Library of Seasons

 
The Gilded Reserve Clerk

“Ah. You’ve found The Gilded Reserve.”

“These archives are not currently accessible to the public. Their bindings remain sealed until a more appropriate alignment of knowledge and need.”

“If you were hoping for answers, I recommend patience.”

“But you are welcome to return. When the time is right, it may call you back.”

“Unless there was something else?”A silver lily icon.

The Gilded Reserve
Chartarix
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
The Scriptorium
Kemetia in the Scriptorium

The Scriptorium hums with quiet focus, quills whispering across parchment in a rhythm as steady as breath. The air smells of ink, candle wax, and old paper warmed by lamplight. Kemetia stands behind a scholar, a Metal Fae, at work, the faint scent of wildflowers following her as if carried in from a gentler world. Her green robe catches the light in ripples of soft gold, and for a moment, the whole room seems to lean toward her calm presence.

Kemetia: “You’re back already! Tell me, did you get her to admit it? What flower makes her heart soften?”

INCORRECT. TRY AGAIN.
 

The Shadow Index

The Shadow Index Clerk

“Welcome, seeker, to the Shadow Index.”

“Here we preserve texts that slip between history and myth—truths too fragile to shelve in the open stacks.”

“To retrieve a volume, you must know its name. Not a guess. Not a description. The name.”

“If you know the book you seek, you may proceed below. You only need the first three words.”

 

Page 1 of 4
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Harmony Rotunda
Demetu in the Rotunda

The rotunda feels alive the moment you step inside. Sunlight spills through the high arches, glinting off motes of dust that drift like slow sparks. A faint scent of fresh leaves hangs in the air, and somewhere unseen, water trickles softly. The Earth Fae, Kemetu stands near the center, calm and steady, his mossy green hair catching the light as though it is ready for warmer weather. His smile holds warmth.

Kemetu: So you survived the Shadow Index. Most lose a bit of courage in that place.

Visitor: It takes more than a few whispering shelves to scare me.

Kemetu: Good. You’ll fit right in here. So what is Second Theory of the Chaos Lore called?

INCORRECT. TRY AGAIN.
Back to the Cook
Master Cook with Book

“Well now, would you look at that. Secrets of Shapeshifting, Volume III. After all these years it is finally my turn. They have passed this thing around so long it is a wonder the cover has not learned to run from me.

“You have done well. Most folk give up before they ever get near this book.”

“A promise is a promise. I will see that the Warden of Works gets his meal and you have earned yourself one too.”

“Take this tray. Roasted chicken, honey bread, and whatever the dragon calls edible these days. Try not to spill it. He is grumpy enough without a cold lunch.”

“And if anyone asks, you never got Secrets of Shapeshifting, Volume III for me."

Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
Academy Floorplan
The Admin Offices
Warden of Works

“Ah, that smells right. Finally, someone who understands urgency. Set it there before it gets cold.”

“You did well to come back in one piece. Most who fetch my lunch vanish into gossip or exhaustion.”

“Now, as promised, you will find what you are after in that cabinet behind you.”

“Each drawer contains the records for one of the gargoyles. Each one is filed under a virtue so you need to know your gargoyle friend’s virtue. Then you’ll see his name.”

Filing Cabinet
The Gargoyle's Name
A stone gargoyle with a glowing blue eye.

The gargoyle’s stone eyes shimmer with faint light as you return. A slow tremor runs through his wings, the sound deep and soft, like distant thunder beneath the walls. His voice carries the weight of centuries yet hums with sudden life.

“I have waited so long to know who I am,” he says, wonder threading through the gravel of his tone. “Hundreds of years have passed since my name was lost to silence. Every dawn I hoped someone might remember that I was a promise. I hope you have done what even time could not.”

His gaze warms, the ancient sorrow easing into something like joy. “Thank you for all you've done, visitor. You may have given me back my truth. Whatever happens next, know that your kindness will live in the stone of this hall forever.”

The gargoyle leans forward slightly, eyes glowing brighter. “Now, speak it. Tell me my name.”

Grand Refectory

Grand Refectory

The Grand Refectory stands silent for now, long tables lined in perfect rows beneath the vaulted stone arches. The scent of old bread and hearth smoke lingers faintly in the air, as though the walls themselves remember every meal ever shared here. Though empty, the room hums with the echo of laughter and the soft clatter of dishes long since cleared away, waiting for the next gathering to fill it with life once more.

Harmony Rotunda

Harmony Rotunda

A soft resonance fills the space, weaving through the air like a memory of song. The light trembles in rhythm, each note folding into the next until silence feels alive. Though no figures move among the arches, the walls seem to listen, holding the music that once united every voice within them.

Scriptorium

Scriptorium

The scriptorium hums with motion and light. Quills scratch across parchment, ink glimmers like molten silver, and shelves rise high with scrolls that whisper softly as they settle. Every desk is taken, every surface alive with work. Near the entrance, a Metal Fae pauses long enough to glance up from a stack of ledgers, eyes sharp as polished steel. The look he gives you is unmistakable, a silent command to turn around and leave him to his precision.

Magic Rotunda

Magic Rotunda

The air shimmers with quiet energy. Colors drift and curl like breath made of light, vanishing when touched. Every step hums faintly against the floor, as though the stones remember old spells. There is no one here, only the echo of enchantments that never fully faded.