What's a museum?

A cute little slice-of-life thing to show off Arbre's ignorance and @Rivas's patience.

[spoiler]
Valley road approaching the city. (road) (Enorian.) (4276) [-Auresae-]
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. A large rock has been dropped carelessly onto the ground. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A large block of stone is standing here, waiting to be carried out of the quarry. The blue and gold flag of Enorian flaps proudly in the breeze here. A peacemaker of Enorian stands here, one hand on the pommel of his sword. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand and a spiritual mace in his right.
You see exits leading southeast and northwest.

You have emoted: "Am I allowed to do this now?" Arbre asks, looping her left arm around Rivas's and gesturing between the two of them with her right hand, "Just show up and hang on you like we are a 'thing'?"

"WHOA!" Rivas says with a start, tensing reflexively as he notices you for the first time. "Holy damn, woman, you're sneaky."

You have emoted: Arbre bares her teeth at Rivas in an unnervingly animalistic manner. "Sometimes being a wolf comes in handy," she says.

Rivas pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a single index finger, delicately adjusting them in the process.

Rivas lets his hand slip into your, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We are," he responds with a wink.

You have emoted: Arbre smiles at Rivas, clearly pleased. "I am merely doing what I can to improve Duiran-Enorian relations," she says brightly.

"Mmhmm," Rivas murmurs with a slight eyeroll, pressing his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss.

You have emoted: "Come on, show me about your city," Arbre says, gesturing grandly in front of her, "I have been through the shops, Aren's house, and the Luminary guildhall."

Rivas Silverain says, "Hmmm...what would you like to see? Anything in particular?"

You have emoted: "I have no idea what is even here," Arbre says, rolling her shoulders in a shrug, "I may have raided once, but that has been a long time ago. I sincerely avoid Enorian at nearly every cost."

Rivas gives a short nod of understanding, and another soft squeeze to your hand. "Right, the scenic places first then," he says.

You follow Rivas to the west.
Iosian Mews outside the Imperial Museum. (Enorian.) (4315)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. An ivy-wreathed street lamp is here, awaiting the lamplighter's torch. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A peacemaker of Enorian stands here, one hand on the pommel of his sword.
You see exits leading east, south (open oak door), and west.

Rivas Silverain says, "Have you ever seen the museum?"

Cocking her head to the side, you say, "What is a museum?"

"I...truly?" Rivas asks.

You have emoted: Arbre looks at Rivas expectantly, clearly sincere in her question.

"A museum..." Rivas says slowly, choosing his words carefully, "is a place devoted to exhibiting things of importance. Works of art, historical artifacts, things of that sort. It's meant to be a place of refined culture, of education, of preservation."

You follow Rivas to the south.
Grand Foyer of the Imperial Museum. (Enorian.) (4316)
The entrance foyer of the Imperial Museum is quite vast, but brightly lit by the numerous chandeliers that hang from the ceiling throughout the halls. Polished white marble covers the walls and floor, several tall columns arranged around the center of the hall in a circular formation to support a domed ceiling high above, which bears an intricate mosaic comprised of thousands upon thousands of tiles. A long carpet of gold-trimmed azure leads from the double-doors at the museum entrance to a small information kiosk laden with brochures and pamphlets about the various exhibits as well as information about museum tours. Various paintings, abstract sculptures, tapestries, pottery, and other relics can be seen on display as the museum's halls stretch onward from the main foyer. A worn leather book lies here, its silver clasp preventing it from opening. An intricate mosaic of colorful tiles can be seen on the ceiling high above. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A solemn looking chaplain rests the base of his tower shield on the ground and hefts his mace. There are 2 argent intercessors here. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand and a spiritual mace in his right.
You see exits leading north (open oak door), southeast, and southwest.

Rivas guides you in, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of him, falling in line behind you. "Take a look around, please," he says. "Though it's typically considered poor form to touch the exhibits."

You have emoted: Arbre looks around the room with wide eyes, taking in everything. "Well, that would explain why I have never heard of a museum," she says, "The only time I was ever called cultured was when I was playing." She pauses suddenly, looking down at her feet. "I think I might be too dirty for this," she says, her voice turning self-conscious, "I will mess up all the pretty things."

"As long as you don't touch anything, love, you'll be fine," Rivas says, his voice in your ear as he stands behind you, his hands finding your hips.

You have emoted: Arbre seems uncertain at first, but she's swiftly distracted by the things in the museum, her strides more confident with each one she takes.

The Hall of Legends.
This wing of the museum is rather large, and filled with statues and innumerable locked glass cases containing priceless relics. Many of the relics appear to be possessions of famous historic figures ranging from weapons and suits of armor to articles of clothing and other implements. The walls of the exhibit hall have been bedecked with all sorts of banners and tapestries, displaying coats of arms or historic events. Despite being locked within the cases, it is difficult to tell whether the artifacts within them are real or merely replicas. There are 2 monolith sigils here. An argent intercessor is poised here, hefting an ancient-looking halberd in her glowing hands. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand and a spiritual mace in his right.
You see exits leading northeast and south.

You have emoted: "Whose stuff is all this?" Arbre questions, her eyes wide at the shining armor and polished weapons.

Rivas shrugs his shoulders lightly, small bits of ash floating from his ruffling wings to the ground behind him.

Rivas Silverain says, "Hell if I know, this is my first time in here in ages."

You have emoted: Arbre looks back at Rivas for a moment. "I suppose it is someone important's," she says, "Maybe some founder of Enorian." She steps over to one of the glass cases holding a shining, though dented an nicked longsword. Placing her hands on the glass case, she leans in to see it better, her eyes squinting. "I have never been very good with weapons," she says idly.

"I imagine the weapons and armor belonged to some famous generals and war-heroes, personally," Rivas says, unbuckling one of the open straps on his weaponbelt. "I never thought I would either, but I've grown quite fond of a mace. It just takes a bit of practice, is all."

You have emoted: "I was in the Infernals once," Arbre says, turning around to face Rivas with a grin, her tattoos glowing brightly with her good mood, "Xavin found me a good bastard sword." She clasps her hands, one in front of the other as if holding it, swinging rather aimlessly. After a moment, she drops her arms and laughs. "I was terrible at it," she says, "I just stayed unmutated most of the time."

"I often forget you're in charge of the Shamans," Rivas admits, giving you a playful squeeze. "I always just imagine you as this feral animal woman."

You have emoted: Arbre grins toothily at Rivas. "Shows how much you know of the Praadi," she says, "Come on, what is down here!" She dashes off without looking to see if Rivas is following, a blur of tan, white, and gold.

Rivas follows you to the south.
The Enorian Masters exhibit. (Enorian.) (4320)
This section of the museum seems almost maze-like due to the large number of protruding walls erected throughout the space for artwork, though the room has been lavishly designed, the floor and walls covered with polished white marble, and accented with detailed frescoes and reliefs. A multitude of paintings - both large and small - have been proudly placed on display on the walls, each one magnificent in its own right and varied in subject matter. While most of the displayed works appear to be done by Enorian's master artists, the gallery is littered here and there with artwork from artists not from the Beacon. The art pieces that are not paintings have been put on display on raised pedestals erected around the gallery floor, protected by barriers of velvet ropes to prevent visitors from getting too close to the exhibits. Several signs have been posted throughout the gallery warning patrons to not touch the artwork. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A marble pedestal is here, displaying a pinion-bladed bastard sword. An argent intercessor is poised here, hefting an ancient-looking halberd in her glowing hands. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand.
You see exits leading north and southeast.

"Praadi?" Rivas asks, the word uncertain on his lips.

You have emoted: "Shaman that has been tested and accepted by the guardians," Arbre explains without looking back, "Only those in the guild may approach the Seer's stone and mark it with their blood, and not everyone can handle the guardians' eyes on them. It is not an easy thing." Her motion slows amongst the pedestals, more carefully moving around, looking at the paintings in particular.

Rivas takes a different path through the columns and walls, content to watch you from a short distance as you wander about. "What is involved?" he asks.

You have emoted: Arbre comes to a stop in front of a painting of dark blues, greens, and greys, an impressionistic night scene of a river. "If you survive the oaths with your mind in tact, then you prove to me you are ready for that honors. When I believe it, Besram makes me the packet for the brazier and.. they come."

Rivas's eyes glance over the bastard sword on display, his voice raising as you wander farther away. "The guardians, you mean?" he asks.

You have emoted: "The guardians," Arbre confirms, "Really their children, I suppose, since they cannot leave Dendara, but the distinction is.. vague when the room fills with the blue flower's smoke." Her voice softens as she speaks, answering Rivas's question though not focusing much on the topic. Slowly she raises her left hand, delicately touching the painting that has her so transfixed.

"Tsst," Rivas sounds as a warning. "Careful there."

You have emoted: Arbre yanks her hand back, looking over her shoulder at Rivas with wide eyes.

"No touching, remember?" Rivas asks, though he doesn't bother to wait for your answer. "They're behind cases and out of reach for a reason."

You have emoted: Arbre places her hands behind her back, clasping one wrist in her opposite hand. "Yes, boss," she says, stepping away from the painting.

Rivas grins. "Good girl," he says, wandering over to hover behind you again.

You have emoted: Arbre snorts derisively, walking down the way and vaguely admiring the paintings until another night scene calls to her, and she steps forward, focused on it.

"You like these, don't you?" Rivas asks quietly, gazing at the painting from over your shoulder.

You have emoted: "I would tell my childer, when the time came, to go out into the sun - to relish their last moments," Arbre says, her voice quiet, "When it set, I would embrace them. If they managed to survive it, I would take them out into the forest to see things with new eyes. 'Preternatural senses', they call it."

"Do you ever miss it?" Rivas asks, his hands resting atop your shoulders gently. "That life?"

You have emoted: "Yes," Arbre replies, without hesitation or shame.

Rivas nods, his hands warm against your skin. "Are you ever tempted to go back?" he asks.

You have emoted: "Yes," Arbre replies, equally confident. She reaches out for a moment as if she might touch the painting, but catches herself, lowering her hands again.

"What stops you?" Rivas asks, his tone genuinely curious, rather than judgemental.

You have emoted: "I remember being tied to the altar," Arbre says, and this time there is shame in her voice as she finally breaks her eyes from the painting. "Come on, I think there is much more to see."

Rivas follows you to the southeast.
Natural History exhibit. (Enorian.) (4319)
This wing of the museum is filled with exhibits showcasing the flora and fauna of Sapience. Numerous dioramas crafted in the likenesses of various landscapes occupy the recessions that line the walls of the hall, each one filled with the creatures that can be found in each environment. One display has been constructed in the likeness of the Salurian jungle, the form of a large tiger hidden amidst the foliage, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting orangutan in the foreground. Yet another display portrays a majestic underwater scene, the sleek bodies of wood-carved fish and rays hanging from mobiles amidst the walls of vibrantly colored coral and the large, predatory silhouettes of sharks. Another exhibit has been modeled after the frozen reaches of the northern tundra, and shows the massive frame of an oryguk tearing into an unfortunate penguin. Not all of the displays are dioramas, however. A few posters have been erected here and there, showing off size comparisons between various animals or taxonomy charts, while numerous glass cases lie scattered about the room to display animal bones. At the very center of the room is a quite massive display which takes the form of a mountain peak, serving as the perch for an equally massive black dragon. Each display has been surrounded by a series of red velvet ropes to prevent visitors from venturing too close. The imposing frame of a black dragon casts a dark shadow over the pedestal at the base of this exhibit. A glass display case stands here, showing off rows upon rows of gems and minerals. A botany chart has been pasted to a nearby wall, containing detailed information on various plants and flowers. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A solemn looking chaplain rests the base of his tower shield on the ground and hefts his mace. A bright-eyed missionary serenely patrols the streets of Enorian. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand.
You see exits leading northeast, south (open oak door), and northwest.

"Some of this seems almost too fantastical to be true, at times," Rivas murmurs, his eyes glancing over the dragon. "I'm not sure I believe that story, myself."

You have emoted: "This is kind of.. a sad place," Arbre says, giving a slight frown, "It is all.. dead. A display of life that carries no life."

Nodding, Rivas Silverain says, "Folks in cities put these things on display, often with little regard to the thought that such things are meant to occur freely, without restraints."

You have emoted: Arbre turns, looking at Rivas. "You are a folk in a city," she says.

Rivas exhales loudly through his nose, suddenly looking perturbed. "Yes. Well. I forget that sometimes," he says. "Hardly something to dwell on."

You have emoted: "I do not mean anything by it," Arbre says, lifting her lip before continuing on.

Rivas follows you to the northeast.
The Aetolian Cultures exhibit.
Chaotic, but vibrant, this section of museum showcases artifacts from the various cultures of the world. From the simple bonework from the Indyuk tribes of the frigid north to the stylized tapestries from ancient Saluria, nearly every culture from Sapience has its own section and its own unique relics on display, meant to educate visitors on their customs and ways of life. Whether genuine or merely replicas, all of the relics on display in this hall are either protected by glass cases or surrounded by velvet ropes to discourage patrons from attempting to touch the artifacts. Surrounded by panes of glass, a simple knife of orgyuk bone has been put on display here. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A large scale-model of a Dreikathi airship has been erected here. An argent intercessor is poised here, hefting an ancient-looking halberd in her glowing hands. The shining figure of a guardian angel floats in the air here. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand.
You see exits leading north and southwest.

"No, it's fine. I honestly do forget, at times, depending on who I'm with," Rivas says. "I love this place...but sometimes I just feel more comfortable outside of its walls."

You have emoted: Arbre is drawn immediately to the chaotically colorful Salurian section, sharp angles and angry faces on the tapestries. "Cellars and boxes and caverns and walls," she says, shaking her head, "I just cannot live like that." She gives a short, amused laugh. "And people wonder why I am mad," she says, looking over her shoulder to give Rivas a wry grin.

"I never did," Rivas mutter, a sparkle in his eyes.

You have emoted: Arbre's grin widens and she loses interest in the Salurian section, moving about to other areas. "Why would you have that.. that.. that -thing- here?" she questions in a repulsed tone, pointing at a model Dreikathi airship.

Rivas raises his hands in the air. "Don't act like I decorated this place, lass!" he answers, chuckling either at you or the absurdity of the moment. Or both. "Like it or not, it -was- a major part of our history."

You have emoted: Arbre doesn't laugh at Rivas's joke, her eyes still on the airship. "I hate it," she says harshly, "I hate everything about it. The people. The smell. The ylem. The Bloom. All of it."

"Try spending a few decades there," Rivas snarls angrily, turning away from the airship display. "That place is the closest a man gets to hell while his heart still beats in his chest."

You have emoted: This draws Arbre's attention away, and she gives Rivas a look of concern, but says nothing of it. "Come on," she says quietly, "I think we are coming to the end."

Rivas follows you to the north.
Gallery of religious artifacts. (Enorian.) (4317)
Circular in shape, this large exhibition hall contains small alcoves set into the room's perimeter, each one containing a large statue of one of the gods of Sapience along with a plaque stating Their name, domains, and brief blurbs regarding Their history. Smaller displays containing religious artifacts or symbols of the gods have been erected throughout the remaining floor space, many of the relics locked within reinforced glass cases to prevent museum-goers from touching the more valuable pieces. This entire exhibit hall is noticeably darker than other sections of the museum, lit only by the firelight of the wall-mounted sconces, which seem to create an air of reverence. A fiery red diamond is floating freely here, reflecting crimson rays of ambient light. There are 2 monolith sigils here. An argent intercessor is poised here, hefting an ancient-looking halberd in her glowing hands. Rivas Silverain is here. He is riding on a tawny mountain lion. He wields a reinforced tower shield in his left hand.
You see exits leading south and northwest.

You have emoted: Arbre walks around the room, pausing only for a moment to smile at the devotional to Auresae before continuing on, though she does come to a stop in front of the Goddess of Corruption's statue, gazing at it with a slight frown.

A homing pigeon flutters in towards you, gliding over you as it drops a letter into your hands before flapping away once more.

Rivas wanders to the diamond, unable to turn his gaze away from it. "Anything important?" he asks, turning his head as the pigeon flies away.

You have emoted: "Lin," Arbre replies with a frown, "She is a Councilor again, and making less sense than ever. Probably best I stay away from her." She turns her focus away from the visage of Chakrasul to walk over to Rivas, linking her arm around his and laying her head on his shoulder affectionately.

"If memory serves," Rivas instructs, pointing to the gem before him, "This is the physical manifestation of Mother's transformation from Rahn. This is what was left over of His essence, this is what was shed and left behind."

His hand reaching over to rest atop your own on his arm, Rivas Silverain says, "Of course, it's been so long that no one truly remembers the story behind it, not even Her."

You have emoted: "The things you do not care about are the things forgotten," Arbre says lightly, "I daily lose much of my past. But perhaps it is for the best."

"Aye, perhaps," Rivas says quietly. "The problem is not caring when it doesn't seem important, but finding out later that it does...and then it's too late, and it's gone."

You have emoted: Arbre gives an ambiguous hum in return. "Did you wish to show me more, or sit and rest for a time?" she questions.

Rivas's eyes fall on you. "Whither thou goest," he teases, reaching out with a wing to nudge your shoulder.

Rivas follows you to the northwest.
Iosian Mews outside the Imperial Museum. (Enorian.) (4315)
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. An ivy-wreathed street lamp is here, awaiting the lamplighter's torch. There are 2 monolith sigils here. A peacemaker of Enorian stands here, one hand on the pommel of his sword.
You see exits leading east, south (open oak door), and west.

You say, "Aaaaand now I am lost again."
[/spoiler]