Leaving the lodge, somewhat dispirited, the group trudge back past the money-changers and eastwards to a cluster of houses sited by the river. One, a small cottage, is fronted by clusters of brightly coloured, pretty flowers, arranged expertly in antique pots. A female gnome, almost childlike in appearance, is pottering between the plants, humming softly to herself. This, based on the directions received from Talia by the party when they were planning out their day, must be Bassy, the local historian and town bard.
At the party's approach, the gnome looks up and smiles, in a most friendly, disarming way. She stops humming. "Ah, you must be the town's new daring adventurers," she says. "Come in, come in! Tea? Biscuits? Where are my manners? I'll have the maid fetch you something from the bakery."
"Thank you!" says Leng with a bright smile. "I do love tea and biscuits. Also, your garden is wonderful. I'd be inclined to sit out here and enjoy the flowers, too!"
"Good idea!" says Bassy. I'll have some tables brought outside. She pops her head inside the door. "Miranda!" she calls, in her high, young-sounding voice. "Bring out the occasional tables, if you will, please? And seven chairs? We have a number of guests! And, er, tea for seven, if you please, and the requisite number of biscuits! I'd be most, most grateful, bless you!"
She turns to the group. "It's a fair old list to give Miranda, but she's relatively young and should be up for it! Just bear with us for a few minutes!"
Two elderly human women, in long black maids' dresses, with white aprons, emerge carrying a couple of small round tables. They then return to the back of the house and reemerge with two chairs each, continuing the process until there is enough furniture for everyone to sit. One of them curtsies, slightly. "Begging your pardon, L. Bassy. Jossy is making the tea and it'll be here shortly."
"Bless you, Miranda, what I'd do without you I don't know!" says Bassy. She turns to the group. "Now, then. How may I be of help?"
Arnon bows to the gnome.
"We are very thankful of your hospitality. But let me help set up this meeting. I wouldn't be comfortable not helping the ladies carry the chairs and tables. So if you excuse me for a minute."
Arnon goes to help doing the "heavy-lifting".
Den lets the others help and takes a brief while to play with Draken. A game of tug and throw, tug and throw with a ragged ball of woolens. The marsupial is quick and strong enough to almost pull the druid over. All the time, her striped tail flicks back and forth in pleasure. Again the outdoorsman cannot help but laugh at the way things are turning out so well.
"You want a go, Pip?" he offers the little'un in thanks for brightening up his day.
Draken has one paw either side of the ball and is ready to spring, while he watches Pip with his head on one side.
Avogadro also does not offer to help the setup, instead speaking with Bassy as the preparations are made.
"You my dear, have simply exquisite taste! Your home is simply adorable. I myself am a man of the road of course, lucky for you or you'd never get rid of me."
With a wink and a nudge he continues
"but in all seriousness. It is beautiful. I would like to settle down somewhere like this myself one day."
Bassy gives a broad smile. "Indeed. Thank you, kind sir. I'm very proud of my house."
She pours the tea and hands it round. It's quite delicious, spiced with cinnamon. "I expect you have many questions. About the town, perhaps? People round here seem to think I'm the local historian. Is there some way I could help, in that regard?"
She looks across at Avogadro, expectantly, but half notices something about him, and after looking somewhat disconcerted for the merest fragment of a second, maintains the same broad smile.
Bassy sighs.
"Well, you'd have to go a long time back in history. You want me to tell you everything? Everything I know, anyway."
"A long time ago, maybe a thousand years gone, there was a plague of dragons here. The wyrm destroyed many of the settlements, and some of the survivors banded together to take them on. One company, the Slayers of Nazili, was founded by a refugee called Tula Belhaim, who went on to become one of the greatest dragonslayers of her age. This town is, of course, named after her. And that tower was part of what was known as Castle Tula."
"She married one of the other slayers, one Arturic Canteclure. Between them, they built that tower. And the town grew around it."
"But the couple was childless, and this seems to have gnawed at them. One day, their servants found both of them dead, Tula in the castle and Arturic, thrown from his horse a hundred feet from the entrance. Perhaps Arturic killed Tula. Perhaps it was an accident and Arturic was riding for help. Nobody knows. They were buried together in Tula's crypt."
"With no heir, the castle was inherited by Arturic's distant cousins. A couple of hundred years ago, one of them - Sarvo, a nasty piece of work - managed to fall out with the Grand Prince. The Grand Prince turned up with his army, dragged off Sarvo and razed the castle, leaving only the tower, which people round here came to call the Witch's Tower. Part of it, of course, is what the army found beneath - all Sarvo's various torture rooms, cells and so on. The demons might be to do with that. The kobolds are new; I assume they somehow found their way from the encampment at the quarry."
"The Devys took over then. The first Devy was one of the Grand Prince's knights. And they've run things fairly well since then, by everyone's view. Especially given what's gone on in Galt. But there was an earthquake a few decades ago - didn't do much harm, but flooded that quarry. The quarry was a big part of the town's wealth. Nobody expects it back, but that's why it's abandoned and why the kobolds have been able to move in."
She sighs.
"Which brings us to the present day. More tea?"
She smiles and calls to the maid to refill the pot.
|
Garekk turns to his companions. "That answers a couple of questions, no doubt." Turning back to Bassy, he continues "What can you tell us of the Wizard? Was it foolishness or insanity that he would contract with kobolds to collapse his tower? Is there anything you can tell us of his personality? I understand he was a recluse, but someone had to have known him at least somewhat."
"Hunclay. No, I didn't know him well. He moved here seven years ago, from Rahadoum. Built that house, razed every tree nearby in the process. He wanted to raze the tower as well, but Origena wouldn't sell it to him, what with her husband having died there, and all. Hunclay was obsessed with books, not history. Books on, well I suppose you'd call it natural science. The stars, nature, the way things work. I have only history books, the ones I read and the ones I write. So he very quickly decided I was worthless and never spoke to me again."
"I don't think anyone here really knew him at all. Occasionally couriers would arrive with packages of books for him, ones he had sent away for, from Cassomir and from larger towns. Maybe he'd speak to them. And a merchant once told me he'd seen one of these couriers at an auction for a dead man's library. Again, very keen on science books. But he had no time for me and I no time for him; what with the bleaching and all, life's too short to spend on boors."
"I suppose though, he got his wish. The tower is indeed razed, in a collapsed kind of way. And on top of him. Goes to show, no plan is ever perfect."
Again she smiles, taking a deep breath in to smell the flowers.
"Great tea, I must say. We thank you for all the information. Any advice regarding the kobolds? Or the quarry?"
"I'd say this. I've known all of the Devys. I knew several of the Canteclures, and I certainly knew that evil rascal Sarvo, though for much of that period I made sure to leave town. In fact, my grandmother knew Baroness Tula herself. Origena Devy is, fundamentally, a good person. She's trying to establish a way through this without turning it into a bloodbath, and also on the other hand trying to placate the more, er, hawkish citizens. Religion has made this town very political, they cluster around Shelyn, Abadar and the Green Faith. We used to have the Irori monks around as well, at least until they disappeared, about the same time as the fall of the Canteclures. And we have Galt less than a day's ride away, in case we've forgotten what a bloodbath looks like."
"So my advice is this. Work with Origena. Find a way into the kobold's nest, then find an answer. You're her best hope of keeping a lid on this particular kettle. If a miniature war breaks out here, well, next thing will be that the Taldan legions arrive. On Galt's border. In our peaceful town. And next thing after that? Who knows. That's why you gentlemen are her best hope, and the fact she knows this is why she''s ours."
"That's my advice, for what it's worth."
Arnon takes the gnome hand and kisses it respectfully.
"Thank you very much, we will try to make the best use of your counsel and wisdom."
Den eventually arrives and settles down to listen. When a break comes he asks one question with a puzzled frown, "sorry, I have no great memory but did you say that the Baroness' husband died in the tower? What happened there?"
He tries to remember whether anyone has mentioned this before but gives up early on.
Pip pouts in the corner, minding Arnon's request to keep quiet despite every bone in his body telling him to do otherwise. He does manage to sip down the tea and keep an ear on the stories being told, even as he stares daggers at the cleric.
Bassy notices Pip's reticence. "You're quiet, child," she says. "Best not hold it in, or the bleaching will take you too."
She turns to Avogadro. "And you," she says. "You're very polite, which is most admirable. But there's something ... amiss. You seem ... at odds with your surroundings. It's giving me the heebie jeebies, to be perfectly frank. Have you any idea why that is?"
To Den: "Yes, an accident at the castle. The details were sketchy, he was by himself. It seems to have been an honest-to-goodness fall of some kind. He was down there looking for books, another one obsessed with filling his library. He apparently said something about having found a talking raven and having done a deal, but I think that's as much as anyone knows, even the Baroness."
"my memory of what happened back there is... Sketchy. But I think it was an imp when we found it, but it had some kind of... Ascension? Miss Bassy, I fear I was effected. My companions here have been good enough to play along with my feighned ignorance but I sense you may be wise enough to help this poor, humble, entertainer. The fiend has taken my dear shadow, I fear I shall never get it back. Do you know any way..."
For the first time since the group got together Avogadro is not only being earnest, but is genuinely asking for help.
Bassy thinks for a moment. "Sir, frankly I don't know. But I think the Baroness would want to hear more, and I think it would do you good to tell her. Though it might add to the mystery concerning her husband, at least it adds more information. If you wish, I can accompany you when you visit the Baroness, and help speak with her. Your best hope, as regards understanding what has happened, is probably her seneschal, Cymon. He guards her husband's library, and probably knows its contents better than any."
"We would be very grateful with any help to solve Avogadro's... Condition."
Once the group has enjoyed a lovely tea, Avogadro rises
"Marvelous Miss Bassy, simply Marvelous! I shall be joining you again! But alas, the baroness awaits us and we mustn't keep her. Will you still be joining us?"
Bassy nods to Avogadro. "From what I've heard already, your aristocrat handling skills could use some work. I'll tag along."
The group walk up, across the river and along to the manor. It's a fairly long walk and there's plenty of time to chat along the way. On arrival, Bassy knocks on the door. She turns to the group. "Let me help set this up for you," she says and, as the group is ushered in, has a word with the servant. She's taken off by herself while the group waits in a holding area near to the front door.
Arnon keeps looking at Pipernortin, with a fixed stare, and a serious demeanour.
Leng brushes his tunic idly and puts on a mild smile. He is the very image of walking milquetoast.
After about 20 minutes, a servant leads the party to a large chamber, with chairs set around the wall. Above the chairs, reaching up about 40 feets, are shelves upon shelves of books. Each wall has several ladders, set on rails that obviously are used to access the library contents.
In the room, waiting, are Bassy, the Baroness, the Baroness' son and the Seneschal. The Baroness' face is ashen.
"Good afternoon," says the Baroness. "I understand you have news of my husband. Please tell me everything. I need to know it all."
Arnon bows, and looks at Bassy, asking for her help with her eyes. Should they start? Is she going to say something first?
Bassy catches Arnon's look.
"Gentlemen, I suggest you simply tell the Baroness what happened. I think you can help one another here."
|
|
After watching his companions look back and forth at each other, Garekk steps forward with a bow.
"Its like this, my Lady.. it seems that in our explorations under your keep, we encountered a... creature. In its first form, it was that of a talking raven. It endeavored to convince us to submit to torture before it would allow us to pass the room it was in, then regaled us with a fantastic story about being a familiar trapped down there for centuries. Later on, it turned into an imp, but before leaving, it once again changed form to that of a large demon or devil of some sort. While making our way around town, we explored the history of the tower with Madame Bassy here, and were informed of the untimely and tragic death of the late Baron, your husband. It seems that whatever happened, it was likely under the influence of this creature. We were advised that this information was such that should be brought immediately to your attention, and so here we are. In addition, it seems that one of our party lost his shadow in the exchange with the devil thing, and we were told your senechal may be of assistance with his vast knowledge and immense resources at hand."
With his bit spoken, Garekk fades back with another bow to the baroness, hoping beyond hope that his deference and tone would smooth over any new or prior indiscretions.
The Baroness gasps at the mention of the talking raven.
Cymon, however, narrows his eyes. "This doesn't make much sense to me. If it was indeed trapped down there, which makes a kind of sense, given the nature of Sarvo's activities, then how was it able to change? And leave? Why didn't it leave long ago? There's more to this, milady ..." - and here he turns to address the Baroness - "... than meets the eye."
|
|
Garekk once again bows to the royal party. "You are correct, my Lord. During our conversation, the raven sought a spell to release his binds. He asked that while searching the dungeons, that if we were to come across this scrap of paper, we should return that paper to him upon our exit so that he may escape from his captivity. When we found this incantation, we agreed we should not release the creature without consulting you, as we had decided its intentions were nefarious rather than mundane. The beast caught us in the lie, used magic to pull the incantation from us, and then punished Avogardo for trying to deceive it."
"it is all as my colegues state my dear baroness. I am without my oldest companion on this plane. It gives me more sorrow than I would have guessed, truth be told..."
Avogadro trails off
Cymon nods. "Rest assured, sorcerer, we will try to help you. This paper, though. Did it say anything, excepting the incantation? Something that might identify this creature?"
"I am hesitant to mention the name out loud, but here..."
Avogadro draws a small sheet of paper from his pocket and carefully scrawls 'harzogopas' before handing the page over
"...that was the name he gave us. And the name that was on the paper... What happened to that paper anyway? There was more written on it but my memory of the... Event... Is a little sketchy"
"ugh! A typical nuisance now what was written on it again... Elvish script I remember that much... 'for I will win'... no... 'for I shall conquer worlds' that's it 'for I shall conquer worlds'! there wwere a couple of other lines of script but, alas, I couldn't read those..."
Den pulls around in his backpack and then brings out an empty scrap of parchment.
"I keep the parchment but the words flew into the air as the imp spoke them in a strange language. I think he has to stay away from here, maybe 200 miles or more was the promise he made. Oh and he said he would see us again."
Den shakes his head and mumbles to himself, "had a sword at his throat but couldn't kill a trapped beast. Even that imp. Sorry."
"Anyway its the kobold's who matter now," adds the druid trying to change the topic a little.
Cymon shakes his head. "I doubt this was its real name, if it was truly more than an imp. And I think this was neither devil nor demon. Old Baron Sarvo kept a powerful sorcerer as his advisor, one Zenera Tyne. She seems to have been in the business of acquiring books and communing with and researching ... dark powers. Lord Claudias - that is, the Baroness' late husband - was convinced there were still arcane texts beneath the tower. "
"He seems to have fallen victim to something down there. Something with its own interest in Sarvo's library. I don't know whether you've heard of a phenomenon called the Dark Tapestry. It's a term used by sages to describe the void between the stars; a void made material through some kind of unholy geometry. There is a book in our own library that obliquely references a number of powerful beings, drawn out of the Tapestry's very warp and weft, bound for some purpose in locations across the Inner Sea. Claudias was convinced that one such being was buried in Taldor, and that Sarvo's old library held the secret. But try as he might, he found no books."
"Perhaps this creature you found serves one of these powers. Perhaps it was one of the powers themselves. If it has indeed withdrawn back into the substance of the Tapestry, then this idea of 200 miles was probably an amusement to it - the Tapestry's dimensions are, it would seem, very different to ours."
"Whatever it did to you, friend sorcerer, be grateful that it probably spent less than a mere speck of its power on you. Possibly as a prank, retained from its impish nature as it changed to its new state. But I doubt that anyone, at least anyone within 200 real miles, can reverse it."
"Your friend the druid speaks aright. We should address our more mundane concerns. The kobolds are the issue. Mayhap they will lead you to more information on this creature you found."
The Baroness has been quiet, lost in thought while Cymon spoke. "It seems poor Claudias may have been right after all. I teased him so mercilessly. I ...
She pauses, then pulls herself together. "Please, gentlemen. You should go to the kobolds. It seems that every complication in this affair delivers a new and more dangerous aspect. What has this chain of events unleashed into the world? Oh, poor poor Claudias. Right all along."
The Baroness falls silent once more. Bassy touches the woman's sleeve tenderly, in a quiet attempt to comfort her.
Arnon stands, bows, and bid his goodbyes.
"We'll do our best, your grace..."
Leng bows quickly and follows Arnon's lead.