[D1, Open, Morning] Good Magical Morning

The dim morning light barely illuminates the room through the narrow, glass-paned window. Motes of dust flutter in the early rays, dancing to some unheard melody. The Tower has just begun to awaken, the only signs of life being of those who had the fortitude to remain awake long enough to see Apollo take up his chariot. Among these mages is Tiarnan, who-

-is snoring loudly at his desk, a thin line of saliva leaking from the corner of his mouth and puddling on the pages of an open tome upon which rests the half elf's head. The man, after spending the evening down at Rosemaker's Pub, had returned to the Tower in order to further his own studies into the discipline of dimensional travel, portal opening, and planar shifting. The particular texts, however, were always written with an underlying assumption of previous knowledge on the part of the reader, which forced Tiarnan to return to the Arcaneum multiple times for more and more preliminary readings. Of course, alcohol, plus a constant up and down the Tower stairs and the short walk to the Arcaneum, resulted in not much reading getting done by the man.

He stirs as the beams of light fall over his desk and, consequently, his face. A grumble and a squint up toward the open window are his only response.

Perched on the window sill sits a miniature red dragon, he inspects Tiarnan with first one fiery eye then the other in a very bird like manner. It chirps in a questioning tone and suddenly Tiarnan's brain is flooded with images of scampering mice and the feeling of a terrible hunger...

"Nuuuuuuu Zeyx..." Tiarnan somehow manages to croak out. "Go ask Alston... or Daphne... in fact, bring me back a platedas ovef brukstifgerrr...." The half elf buries his head into his arms in a feeble attempt to block out the sunlight. "And an ale." He adds.

A few moments tick by before he makes another sound. First, however, he peeks between his arms to see if the psuedodragon was still in the room. "No? Well fine then. At lease can you let Alston know that Lukas *mumble*" A part of him almost believed the familiar could understand what he was saying.

Zeyx chirps an affirmative, then flits out the window. Gone for only two minutes, he returns to drop a wet, freshly laundered sock with a hole in the toe on the pile books in front of Tiarnan then returns to the sill to trumpet his triumph.

"...huh. Well, I guess yer learning." He quips, picking up the sock and, opening a desk drawer, depositing it as he had with so many other of Zeyx's 'gifts'. Mustering the strength to stand, Tiarnan rises from his seat.

"Well, then. What's the old codger up to today? Didja let him know about Lukas?" As he speaks to the familiar, he moves to arrange and order some of tomes that have since fallen into disarray.

BANG!  A sudden and loud explosion rocks the mage's tower emanating from the floor above, causing a towering stack of books to collapse in the corner. With a surprised squawk Zeyx tumbles backwards out the window. Dust shaken loose from the rafters settles about Tiarnan shoulders. Only a few moments later a heavy, sulfurous, black smoke creeps from under Tiarnan's door.

The sudden, loud auditory incursion barely registers a reaction from the man, his head momentarily twisting to the door to ensure that nothing was incoming to his private study but nothing more. That is, at least until the sulfurous soot begins to roll in under the doorway.

"By the gods' hairy b-" he exclaims, throwing the door open then rushing to the window, attempting to make sure the airflow was well enough to ventilate some of the gaseous wisps outside. Once the smoke begins to thin enough to peer into, he slips into the hallway to verify there was nothing alight. Magical smoke was all too common in the Tower, for sure, but it never hurt to put into practice safety procedures, just in case. Despite the fact that the Arcaneum was the de facto library in the city, there were enough tomes and grimoires of magical importance in the Tower that their loss would be a heavy blow for those in pursuit of knowledge.

"Everyone alright?" the Scholar calls out, allowing the rote of it all to take control as he still attempts to awaken fully. Not that, after that, he was too terribly much still asleep.

At the hallway's end, just where the curve of steps leading up could be seen, large billows of black soot rolled down from the floor above. Accompanied by hacking coughs, the top of a bald, age spotted pate surrounded by wispy white hair, could be seem making its way down the stairs.

"Ack, Ack, ACK!  Inquinatio aëris!" Out of nowhere a small gale-force wind scoops up the black clouds and carries it out the window setting Tiarnan sleep rumpled attire whipping about.

" Ack ack, too much ..ack powdered dragon's blood.. I must of had the ratio with bitumen off." mused the old gnome as he patted at his splotched and soot covered robes, now turned more black than their usual grey. "Ah Tiarnan, I hope I didn't wake you. Not feeling too well I see. That's what comes from over indulging in my niece's brew, though I can't really blame you. Been known to go a wee bit too far myself on occasion. Still was quite the crowd last night. And I heard quite a few very interesting rumors about a certain ancient red dragon that seems to be on everyone's mind lately. I really should write some of it down before I forget, but I was inspired in a dream! I think I may have stumbled upon the exact alchemical nature of dragon's breath! Just image fighting dragon's fire with their own fire! or the uses such generated heat would have in the study of metallurgy! I say Tiarnan, you don't look so good, a bit greener then usual in fact."

Quite certain there was no fire, the half elf relaxes slightly, chuckling at the small gnome.

"If I'm at all green, old man, it's due to yer infernal aerial pollution. Smells worse than that time you took yer boots off at Daphne's, and that odoriferous scent lingered for weeks." The man's playful demeanor leeched into his words, robbing them of any bite. He strides to his colleague, making as if to head up the stairs to see for himself this alchemical breakthrough.

"Though, if what you say is true, I'd wager the noxious properties of this odor well worth it for the practical applications."

"Yes, Yes, well worth it! come see I'll show you. Though my breakthrough may have hit a wee stumbling block. I've run out of powdered dragons blood you see, but I think I've managed to produce a small amount of essence before using up my entire store. It's very hard to get red dragon's blood of the potency of my last batch, and even harder to properly prepare!" The shorter than average gnome leads his half-elf companion up the steps...

The half elf chuckles, following the dragon researcher up the stairwell.

"Yes, I could see that being the case. I doubt the Alchemists Guild has very much in store, either... After all, when was the last time the call for a Great Wyrm Hunt went out? Decades, at least. I'm curious, does essence of dragon's blood react in similar ways to powdered blood? If so, I wonder if that would hold true for other forms of the vitality, even for such common stock as boar and bull."