"He mentioned you. Enthusiastically, by his standards."
"He did, did he?" Vel responds, before attempting to change the subject. "Speaking of such things, I don't suppose the Library would react well to fire magic?" she asks dourly.
"I am quite certain that the library will accept me. I am friends with libraries the world over! And, friend Arianwyn, I am sure that at least a cursory examination of what knowledge is available would be called for. Shouldn't take me more than a few minutes."
The eladrin sighs with a weariness born of a life far longer than those of his companions, "Very well. I doubt not that it shall involve either a mental duel or a battle with forces beyond the natural."
"The Library will certainly not appreciate fire spells, but that's not to say you can't use them. Just be prepared for consequences if you hit the wrong things. It is defended."
Pirot taps his fingers on the desk and nods brusquely at Arianwyn.
"Certainly there will be mind games. Your cause will be assisted by the prompt return of missing volumes. However, I would prefer to retain my own book. I cannot risk the knowledge contained in it being warped again. Who has that?"
Without waiting for a reply, he sketches a rapid map of the whereabouts of the Library.
"This is where it was last seen. If you move quickly, it should still be there."
Once you leave Pirot's rooms, his instructions take you to an almost deserted area of the University grounds.
The Library itself is sporting gothic architecture for the most part, but you notice a classical colonnade appearing as you approach. The doors swing invitingly open as a gargoyle is replaced by a resplendent lion on the doorposts.
Arianwyn strides through the doors, followed closely by Whiteclaw. While outside the weather is a delightful late spring day, the light inside is more appropriate for chill winter. A sense of strong disapproval of your presence pervades the whole room.
Free-standing bookcases are spaced evenly around the area, forming a border to the single table, already spread with books. The pages flutter, apparently of their own accord, for their is no sign of any living thing.
Whiteclaw prowls north, looking suspiciously down the top corridor, axe at the ready. "I still think we would have saved ourselves a lot of time if we'd done this first," she rumbles.
"Hello. We have come seeking the knowledge of how to stop Kyleth. And to admire all of your lovely books. Is there anything that we can do to help you?"
Apologies for the typos in the earlier post. "their" for "there". Gah.
The books on the table pause slightly in their agitated fluttering at Reason's words.
On the middle shelf of the bookcase directly in front of him, an inviting space opens up, as though requesting something to be placed there. A label appears, cycling through a variety of languages, but finally settling, with an almost audible chuckle, into common. It reads:
"Books must be returned promptly."
Behind the party, the doors close emphatically. There is an audible clonk, as the lock turns.
No worries. Post when you can and apologies in advance if I jump in too quickly.
The bookcase in front of Reason starts to move the volumes on the shelves more urgently and the sign changes to elven, then dwarven and back to common again.
From within a number of other bookcases, a slight rustling is becoming perceptible. It doesn't sound exactly like books.
I've just checked back. Arianwyn has the poetry book and the book about vineyards. Gobi was the last person to be carrying the camouflage book. Reason gave Pirot back volume 1 of Speculations.
The two volumes slide into the waiting slots and there is a pause in the irritating whispering. Apparently the Library is checking to see if any harm has come to the books.
Abruptly, a figure appears at the central table. Benign and ethereal the books so recently replaced appear in its hands and are subjected to close scrutiny.
The whispers start again.
"Ooooh. There has been tampering."
"Major tampering."
"They'll be sorry."
The ethereal figure seems mildly discomposed by the presence of the runic devise in the poetry book and looks aggrievedly at the party. Despite that, he seems content to let matters rest there.
Not so the three poltergeists who appear between the shelves. In life they may have been students, as all are young, but it is hard to tell as rage makes their forms vacillate wildly from misty to human and back again, passing via body forms you would rather not see too closely.
"If you wish a second death, you shall have it, thrice-be-damned mewling shades! I shall render you as nothing! Your very essence shall be obliterated!" Arianwyn spits.
Kia gives Arianwyn a disapproving look. "Do you have to have so melodramatic? A simple request will do."
Then to the poltergeists:
"Now, look, I've had a long day, most of it quite unpleasant. Are you going to make trouble, or let us be about our business? If you feel the need for a hint, I suggest that not making trouble is the way to go."
