Joseph
Cecilia Lyanah 
Just off the Northern Shore

As Cecilia continued her search through the Captain's office, the big ol fearless shifter found herself incredibly disturbed when she came across the flesh with written words on it. She couldn't imagine how he had come upon them. "I don't say this often but I am officially creeped out by the Captain." 

Turning from the desk, the shifter turned towards the door closest to her, pursing her lips together as she was not enjoying what she had found so far. She opened the door but not before she took a deep breath, as if she was steadying herself for what she may encounter. Fortunately, it was a library and nothing horrifying. The size of the library in front of her caused her eyes to widen in surprise and amazement. "There has to be magic involved." 

She wasn't necessarily talking to Ymara but rather herself. "It's like an illusion. You would never imagine this from the sight of the ship."
John
The library was stacked to heavens, easily the equal of any library in the mainland. But unlike the normal ones, this library was laced with magic. Cecillia could feel the aura of silver at places and every so often if they stopped moving, they'd hear a footstep, as if something stopped right after them. THere was skittering of rats... Except they were bigger than any rat they'd ever heard. Whispers could be heard from some of the books. Unknown to Ceccilia and Ymara, this may be one of the greatest collections of arcane sea lore on the seas. Definetly beat anything they had on the mainland. Whine most of the books were in normal leather, a few were in bone. The best of the books, or atleast themost well guarded were made of living gem. FInally upon a pedestal in what seemed to be the middle fo the room (But it went too far to tell) was a book that radiated power. It flickered through pages on it's own, but never seemed to reachthe end of the book.
Leah
Ymara Charac
Just off the Northern Shore

Mouth agape, Ymara followed Cecilia quietly. This had to be a dream... Right? A pinch to her biceps later, she found that it in fact was *Not*. The only thing that this action had changed was that there would be another bruise forming on her arm. Grunting, she thought to herself that there had to be another alternative to discern a dream from reality. If she kept going like that, she'd resemble a bouquet of flower more than she would an actual human being. 

"There definitely is magic involved, ancient one too, I'll bet." Somehow, Ymara had found her voice again. Her eyes travelled along the rows upon rows of books, colour vanishing from her face. 
"But is the illusion the ship or rather this room? I definitely do not trust this, whatever it is. I think it's best if we don't touch anything no matter how much we or...", she paused, remembering how the shapeshifter had seemed overwhelmed by the scrolls, "I might want to. I'm not even sure I'd want to read what's written in them, even if I could." She shuddered. "Those things back there creeped the hell out of me."
Lauren
Erik Sucher and Sgt. Jax Brightwater
Holding Cells somewhere in Brindelle
***PREVIOUSLY ON FIGHT CLUB***

Erik Sucher, the Giant Beast, had a simple mind, and a drive for combat. The Hammer Wielding Titan was obsessed with the idea of finding his perfect opponent, the man who had the skill to best him in combat and end his life. The gentle hulk of a man always relied on his size and strength, and it had always been dependable. There had never been a challenge he couldn't conquer with his hammer, until now that is. Erik had come to the Northern Shore, searching the truth in a rumor he overheard about a man he was hunting, however a mishap involving the destruction of a rather lovely eating establishment had resulted in Erik meeting his current opponent. Jax Brightwater, the Disgraced Knight, one of the last remaining graduates of the old Feyshorian Academy, stood across from the unstoppable monstrosity. The man we now know as Jax was a ghost of the boy who once stood among the royal guard. The eyes that once held a bright fire of discovery now held the cold steel of a man who knew too much. The smiling clean-shaven face that had never heard of Viking's Blood was now bearded, and grim, the smell of cheap whiskey always faintly permeating the air around him. His shining armor was replaced by a faded uniform of Brindelle's town watch, the mark of Sergeant upon his breast. The only thing that slightly resembled his former self was the sword he carried on his left hip. The metal gleamed from hours of being polished in such a way that even in the dark holding cells it seemed to glow, the intricate handguard showing the telltale signs of weeks worth of carving and design. This was no tool being carried by some footman in the line, no, this was an instrument, and Sir Jax Brightwater, The Feyshorian Exile, was its artist. The air between these two paragons of combat was electric. The Titan who sought out combat, and the soldier who can't escape war. 
Jax unsheathed his sword.