Dagrun

Dagrun had only ever meant to pass through the Outpost.

(Terribly inexact name, that - there are so many outposts after all, and to put emphasis on it does not count, no matter how "special" and "impressive" it's supposed to be to those ignorant, muscle-bound idiots.)

Just a short stop. A nice place to rest safely for the night and get one last good meal in before she left the Lightweaver's realm for the first time. She had finally, finally been allowed to fly out and find new knowledge (her own knowledge!) by her parents, and while she certainly intended to make the most of it, she also refused to be stupid about it.

No good would come from pushing herself and entering foreign, possibly hostile, territory while hungry and exhausted.

So she landed in the courtyard of the much-lauded "Outpost" and asked to be granted audience with the Commander so that she might ask sanctuary for the night.

While she was granted an audience, it wasn't with the Commander. Turns out this "Outpost" did not have a Commander anymore, since they had turned mercenary just over a year ago. That was... concerning for Dagrun, but since their "Matriarch," Frigga, seemed to be a civilised sort and did indeed grant her sanctuary, she concluded that it mattered little in the end.

Other than as an interesting piece of knowledge, of course. Just one day into her journey, and she already knew something her parents had not known! She considered that to be a good omen for the rest of her journey.

Anyhow, things did not really start to divert from her carefully calculated travel plan until she was shown into the mess hall. It was a terribly noisy and uncivilised place, and if Dagrun had not been so very hungry she would likely have avoided the place entirely, no matter how discourteous that would have been to her hosts.

As things stood, however, she simply steeled herself, collected a fine goat haunch and looked around for a slightly quieter place to sit.

Unfortunately, the only way to get to what seemed like a quiet corner of the hall was right past a wildly yelling, gesticulating, hissing and snarling group consisting of a Fae, a Coatl and a Skydancer.

Well, needs must and all that, Dagrun thought and went to edge her way past them when it suddenly registered to her what they were arguing about.

...was that advanced magical theory?

It was.

Just... somehow hidden in such hatchling-like hissing and posturing that it sounded like they were yelling about who had taken the last sugary prickleaf.

Dagrun found herself... entranced. Completely forgetting about her dinner, she sat down nearby and just listened, doing her best to try to decipher what it was that they were talking about. To her despair, she understood less than half of it - somehow this immature posse were Masters of their fields, casually throwing around statements and theories that could completely revolutionise magical research as Sornieth knew it! Why were they here, in this barbaric backwater, when they could easily claim top placements in the Ruin's top research facilities and universities?! And why had no-one heard of any of these theories?!

"Boys!" Came a sharp crack of a voice, completely silencing the Masters, much to Dagrun's despair. "Behave. We have discussed this. Not in the mess, and most certainly not in front of guests."

Casting around for the owner of the authoritative voice, Dagrun spotted a fairly large, blue-tinted female Skydancer.

"But Fritha-" The Fae started, the only one of the three who seemingly dared go against the word of the new Skydancer, his frills clearly reading petulance, chagrin, impatience and pleading.

"No means no, Loke." Fritha continued in the same sharp tone. Dagrun immediately found herself growing resentful towards the smaller female. She was keeping Dagrun from knowledge. That was unacceptable. "If you necessarily need to have this conversation right now, just relocate to the Archives, for Lightweaver's sake."

The Masters stood up and cleared out with much grumbling, but Dagrun found herself distracted. Was that a capital-A Archives she had heard mentioned?

...and how could she get access?

It was easier than she had expected, to be honest.

Frigga gladly arranged a tour for her of the entire Clan grounds, and if Dagrun found that to be oddly trusting for such a militaristic Clan, she didn't dare mention it for fear that they'd reclaim their senses.

Even better, their first stop would be the Archives! Her cheery and extremely chatty Wildclaw guide ("Hi, I'm Dagr! Nice to meet you! Eydis said that Stjarndis said to tell me that Angrboda told her that you'd really like the Archives, so we're stopping there first!") talked nearly non-stop on the way there and while she normally would been annoyed by that, he was just so genuinely nice that it would have felt mean to be annoyed with him.

That, and there was just something...

Something.

Something that was more important than petty things like overly chatty strangers.

That something turned out to be the fact that the dusty, disorganised, massive and sprawling Archives under the "backwater outpost" was her Charge.

Well then, Dagrun thought, metaphorically throwing all travel plans out the window and rolling up her sleeves, seems I have some work to do.

And you know what? Despite her life not turning out the way she thought it would, despite her never going wandering like most Collectors needed to instinctively, Dagrun was happy.

The Outpost's Archives are a living force onto themselves, always growing and developing and turning up new, unexpected discoveries even when the Clan isn't actively contributing to them. Dagrun is convinced that they are sentient due to so much magic and knowledge having collected in one place for so long, and seeing as she's the authority on the matter, the rest of the Clan have taken to talking politely with the shelves.

(The behaviour has seen a rapid decrease in the time needing to be spent to find specific files or items, as well as the number of accidents.)

When asked by other Collectors passing through the Outpost how she can bear staying in one place for so long, she simply answers that she is never bored, never lacking for knowledge and artefacts and she has friends and fellow intellectuals around; why would she ever need to go anywhere else?

• Dagrun's name means "day lore" or "day secret".