"Gah!" winces Themp, bracing himself just in time for the head-shattering crack.
Shaking the pain away, he turns to check on the party. "Is Olp ok, Paladin?"
"No, but he will be in a short time," Nme'an answers as he carefully loads his potion of Cure Light Wounds into his holy symbol. With a brief closed eyed prayer he once again channels a more powerful surge of healing
The small red-scaled warrior's wounds close and the bleeding stops. With the Knight Lieutenant's healing pulse, most of Olp's bruises subside, but not fully. The kobold remains unconscious, but no longer on death's door.
The door was warded with a Glyph of Warding spell. Once discharged, it cannot be triggered again and must be recast.
The day light spills into an open, rectangular room with stone walls and stone floor. A short distance from the immense doors is a wide, waist-high stone podium with an angled top. From the door, it appears to have lines of writing carved onto the smooth stone surface. Darkened corridors in the back left and right corners of the room lead straight back. The air is dead silent, and even the slight scuff of boots on stone echoes through the stillness.
From the door, it appears to have lines of writing carved onto the smooth stone surface. Darkened corridors in the back left and right corners of the room lead straight back.
The day light spills into a square room with stone walls and stone floor. A short distance from the immense doors and near the center of the square room is a wide, waist-high stone podium with an angled top. Just beyond the doors, unlit corridors lead to the right and left. Within the square room, there are four open doorways, two on the right wall and two on the left wall.
The stone podium appears to have lines of text engraved onto its angled surface. Those who approach the podium see that it reads:
Welcome to all who wish to learn and expand their minds. The pursuit of knowledge and understanding is the noblest of causes, for even mountains crumble in time, but sharing ideas between thinkers promotes the growth of all who can reason and change. Any race and creed may enter under the shared desire for greater knowledge and wisdom; old feuds and petty disputes are unwelcome within this place of learning.
Each room accommodates questions and services for a specific school of magic: Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy, and Transmutation. Scrolls and potions are also available for purchase or trade. The library on the second floor is open to all who can observe the posted etiquette. The hallways lead to the Admissions desk, and the stairs to the Library of the Neophyte.
Prospective students applying for Residency must obtain a Writ of Commendation from one of the professors serving the public. Bring the writ to the Admissions desk to discuss a tuition agreement.
The air is dead silent, and even the slight scuff of boots on stone echoes through the stillness. From the large entryway, it would seem that the four dark rooms are empty.
Mot wanders into the expansive chamber idly digging at his ear. He flicks a wad of bloody wax off of his smallest digit before squinting down at the etched podium. Mildly curious he asks over his shoulder, "Doos ah book haev tae haev pages?"
A gnarly finger traces out some of the incomprehensible text, a bloody streak leaving his finger with the gesture.
"We need to heal our wounds before we walk into enemy territory," Nme'an says nodding to the motionless Olp and the others. "You still have a healing wand and potions, Beorae?"
"Yeah, here," Beorae says, drawing one of the healing wands. She goes to Olp, Nme'an, Mot, and Shark, before healing herself.
She shakes the wand as she feels its power failing. ”Well, this one’s almost done…”. She pulls the second wand from her pack and keeps it at the ready.
”How’s everyone feeling?,” she asks.
"What healing potions do you have left? If you have another power one to spare I would like to load it into my holy symbol before move forward," Nme'an says to Beorae.
"Speaking of moving forward, anyone ventures to guess where the staircase is?" Themp addresses the half-elves. "We probably shouldn't get too far away from each other."
Which reminds me...
"Hey, big guy!" he signals Mot "What does it say over there? And don't stray too far away from us..."
Although he has looked rather sickly since the travelers' encounter with the vegepygmy and their harmful spore clouds, Olp's wounds close completely and he regains consciousness. His eyes snap open and the black spindle-shaped pupils see the Sevenstone complete the healing. "Thank you," he says, pushing himself to his feet, "Did we break something? That was very loud..."
He looks around but does not see any evidence of damage on the door or building. Shortspear back in his claw, he hefts his wooden round shield and ventures a little further inside, squinting into the dark corners of the room.
Nme'an follows Olp inside, and as he passes him he raises his sword hand which begin to glow, lighting up the nearby surroundings.
He stops at the podium and reads the words then takes a slow look around for anything unusual.
"It was a protective spell on the door," Beorae explains to Olp as she rummages through her pack. "I think it was intended to be unlocked with magic, but we just sort of pushed our way in and tripped the spell. … Ah ha, here it is!" she says, withdrawing one of the stronger healing vials from her pack. She hands the small bulb to Nem'an, "I have two of these, they're very potent." She looks down at the podium and reads the message.
"Admissions desk…? This place must have been much busier a long time ago."
Turning to the room, the druidess pulls her Everburning Torch from her pack and holds it up, causing light and shadows to dance in the corners of the room.
"This tower has been here a long time, longer than we dragonkin live in Blackcrag. I am not wise with history, but we never knew folk to live here, as I know it." The kobold replies to the druidess.
Olp cautiously pads up to the four thresholds and peers into the four small rooms.
"Nothing in here," he remarks.
Even though stone masonry is not her trade, it is her father's. To most folk, worked stone looks very much the same from one example to the next, but Beorae realizes that she has some peripheral knowledge of her father's livelihood. Specifically, it is evident to her that these stone blocks, despite their self-repairing properties, appear very, very old. Undoubtedly ancient. Moreover, the back wall of this front room seems to be formed of single solid stone.
Typically, buildings made primarily of stone tend to be rather cold, unless constantly kept at a comfortable temperature by the inhabitants (the Thaleniel castle, for example, was warm in the dining hall and in the guest rooms, but the hallways were a bit cool). Beorae notices that the air in this tower is a few degrees warmer than the autumn air outside, but then again, the door is still wide open...
"Sounds like a big university. Odd. Why so far out?" questions Themp aloud, as he reads the inscription.
Cautiously, he follows Olp as he scouts the rooms.
"Far out for where or for who? Perhaps this place was for the nearby peoples and not for us. Or perhaps a weeks journey is not long if one plans to stay for years?" Nme'an replies.
"For a place said to be causing so much trouble it is oddly calm here... Shoukd we move on?" he asks.
As Themp follows Olp around, peeking inside the smaller four rooms, he looks very closely but realizes that there simply is not much to see. Each room has an empty iron sconce designed to hold up a torch or hang a lantern. Venturing further from the door, the city-dweller feels the air get warmer. After a moment of searching, he finds the back wall to be the source of the heat. At least, he's pretty sure. He hasn't touched it yet, but the air feels warmest right next to the wall.
Moreover, now that he is looking at it, the back stone wall does not have any stone block seams. It appears to be one solid hunk of stone, from the floor to the ceiling.
Overall, the thief finds nothing of significant value (or danger) in the small rooms that join the larger room with the stone podium.
Olp nods at Nme'an's suggestion and ambles closer to the entrance. He looks down the hallways to the right and left.
"It is written that both ways go to an Admission's desk. Can we separate and cover both ways?"
As he walks back with Olp, he tells the party about the intriguing room. In the back of his mind, he tries to remember where he has heard of such a thing before.
"I think it might be the back of chimney or something. A single slab of rock, though, unlike the wall outside. Maybe it's magical?"
"Yes, but we should be careful," Nme'an replies. "I'm going to move ahead," he tells the others.
The lockpicking, ship-designing adept reasons that the solid stone makes for a slower release of heat as opposed to a barrier of brick and mortar. He cannot puzzle out why that choice was made, but it seems evident that at least one function of this wall is to provide heating for this floor. Otherwise, this room would be uncomfortably cold. Given the height of the tower, it might be impossible to heat the entire structure, unless there is some advanced design or magical effect at work.
Nme'an follows the west hallway, and Olp skulks down the east. The knight passes two small unfurnished rooms similar to the small rooms found beyond the stone podium. Finding nothing of importance inside them, he pays them little heed and turns the corner by the light of his gauntlet.
Opposite to him down the hallway, he can see his light glinting off tiny yellow draconic eyes in the dark. In a few moments, Olp and Nme'an both approach an opening in the hallway that is furnished with a long, heavy-looking wooden table. Beyond the opening, two more corridors continue back toward the center of the tower. On the back wall behind the table, engraved near the beginning of each corridor it says: Library of the Neophyte.
On the side of the heavy table facing Olp and Nme'an, words are neatly carved to read: Admissions. Across its sturdy, smooth surface are large, untidy black letters burned into etching a brief message:
Olp, too short to notice the table-top message, raps a table leg with the shaft of his spear. Suffering no ill effects, he shrugs and peers behind it, and looks to the corridor entrance nearest to him.
The surface of the heavy wood table has an odd texture to it, closer to stone while still retaining the grain of the wood. This table is quite likely made of petrified wood.
"We have our first sign of ill doings back here," Nme'an calls out to the others.
Beorae and Shark follow Olp to the far side.
"This entire table is made of petrified wood… and that note is interesting."
Exploring through the east corridor, she and Shark pass two entrances to small rooms similar to those in the main room.
The black letters appear to be burned into the desktop. One oddity that stands out to Beorae is that petrified wood is very difficult to burn. There are a couple explanations for how the message was burned onto the table surface, and most of them would involve magic.
Olp makes a quick hop to try to read what that table says. "A warning. The stairs must be close." The kobold stalks further down the hallway marked for the library.
Nme'an moves along with the others, still keeping more of a watchful eye for threats than for the curiosities of the tower.
Nme'an finds more harmless stone wall, floor, and ceiling, and not one obvious threat. Rounding a corner, he wonders if the stairway he sees could be a threat, but only if someone was forcefully pushed from the top of it.
Someone with potent Evocation magic could possibly summon enough energy for white-hot fire. Moreover, being able to direct the fire with enough finesse to leave a message is what conveys the mastery of the spellcaster. Even though she has grown in wisdom and power since embarking from Thaleniel, Beorae does not think she can (yet) form a spell to replicate that kind of energy and control.
Given the stated intention of Ithalgol's Keep, a magical explanation seems more likely. However, she reasons that a blacksmith can fire dark steel into a malleable yellow. A bit of metal heated to such a bright color could be pressed against the petrified wood to write this message.
Themp cautiously follows the Paladin, watchful senses for any more curious features.
So focused on the wall and ceiling, the scoundrel trips on his own feet as he rounds the corner.
With a big flourish, he turns the stumble into a theatrical forward roll, standing up right beside the kobold, as if nothing had happened.
"That's..." He starts with a broken voice. After clearing his throat, he continues. "That's pretty ominous, surely."
Nme'an continues forwards as the others catch up. He proceeds up the stairs, sword, shield and senses at the ready.
Mot trails behind, keeping his senses sharp against the silence between the walls. Occasionally he loudly sniffs the air. As the rest begin to follow the Knight Lieutenant, he runs a meaty palm over the table with black markings. At length, he follows the others.
Nme’an leads the way up the stairs, and comes to a small landing with closed doors on every side. Directly in front of him, wooden double doors have words artfully carved onto their surface:
Only residential students may pass this point. Do attempt unauthorized entry.
These doors each have a keyhole near the handle, but those who reach the top of the stairs notice splintered wood and smashed metal around the keyholes. The right door of these two hangs a little crooked in its frame. The details indicate a forced entry.
The doors to the left and right have glass panes, showing both rooms walled with full bookcases, floor to ceiling. These doors do not have keyholes and do not appear barred. The same message is etched on both doors:
Library of the Neophite
Please be quiet out of respect to fellow learners. Refrain from bringing food or drink into the library. Speak to a Bookmaster if you wish to borrow books or have any other questions. Parchment, quill, and ink are available upon request.
Aside from the damage to the doors directly facing the top of the stairs, everything else seems to be in order, as far as long-abandoned libraries go. Nothing overtly dangerous presents itself. As he takes in his surroundings, Nme’an looks through the paned glass on the door to his left. Among the hundreds of books he sees from where he stands, one title grabs his attention: Shields and Wards. The leather-bound book is nestled among many others, some of which by the titles he can see, appear to concern subjects of magical protection and defense.
Beorae steps forward to the left Library door, reaching out for the knob. She hesitates for a second, checking for any more protective spells that might be tripped.
"Let's see what we have here!" she says in a hushed tone while opening the door quietly, slipping into the room and holding her Everburning Torch a little higher. Shark follows close to her heels.
Only residential students may pass this point. Do NOT attempt unauthorized entry.
Although Beorae finds no magic on the doorway to the library, her spell extends onto the bookshelves, where she detects a small amount of magic humming from the wall of book spines. Upon further inspection, she makes the distinction that the wooden shelves are magical, but most of books are not.
Similar in function to the stone walls of this tower, these wooden shelves appear to be enchanted with simple Transmutive magic (the Mending spell) that slowly repairs objects stored on them. These bookshelves keep the thousands of ancient texts from decay and deterioration.
Inside the library, she finds wall-mounted sconces holding elaborately designed lanterns. They shine a light much like her everburning torch, showing every wall to be covered in bookcases. Every shelf is efficiently packed with textbooks, covering a wide variety of subjects, from places and peoples to basic magical theory and common herbology. There is also a large petrified wood table where the two sides of the library join, and the whole of the room is well lit and in order.
As she searches for books related to druids, the Sevenstone has some trouble finding titles on the subject. The scarcity strikes her as odd, in a tower devoted to magic and magical education. At last, Beorae spots a title among other historical accounts: The Druidic Order of Gedion. Her search turns up one other title, Holly and Mistletoe: The Bridge Between Fey and Mortals. This second finding, smaller in size than the first, is located in a section that concerns peoples of all types, ranging from dwarf to kobold.
Nme'an too enters the library area and makes a slow search.
First, he surveys away from the bookshelves for any sort of librarian table or desk hoping to find any sort of log or records that might shed a little more light on the library and its tower.
Only then does he look to the books themselves, retrieving the "Shields and Wards" book that caught his eye from outside the room. With in hand he continues his search for any books that might tell more about the libary and tower, retrieving any books he finds on the subjects. Finally, he looks for any books on magical healing so as to, if nothing else, better understand the strange healing magic he found himself to possess over the last few days.
With all the books he found in his hand, Nme'an proceeds to a table so as to take a look inside the books he has collected.
On his way he chuckles quietly as he spots one final book, a copy of Alex Kazam's "A Novices Guide to Magic" neatly filed away in the library's small Fiction section. Not one, but two Dawnflower librarians had warned him that the book might as well have been a told tale, for how little of practical value it had within...
The paladin does not see a desk specifically for librarians. Aside from the single large table, and the shelves upon shelves of books, he finds a small cabinet built into the bookcase walls. The small doors are paned glass, and one of them has a tiny keyhole. Above the cabinet doors, it says again: Parchment, Ink, and Quill available upon request. Nme’an can see through the glass that the shelves inside the cabinet are empty.
Browsing the thousands of titles, he pulls an armful of books from their places on the shelves. In addition to Shields and Wards, he also sits down with five other thick books that he hopes answers the questions in his mind.
Leafing through the stack of books, he realizes that the first book that caught his eye concerns spells that are designed to protect in numerous ways. Among the spells, he finds one that sounds similar to the armor spell used by the few kobold mages that crossed his path just days ago. Then, the half-elf notices a top page corner that appears to be deliberately folded. Unfolding the dogeared corner reveals a rune that appears to be a combination of two or three letters in the Elven alphabet. The specific page with the folded corner is halfway through a lengthy description of the Protection From Chaos/Evil/Good/Law spell. A smaller version of the Elven rune is written in the margin of the page, right next to the entry on the incantation to defend against magic from chaotic sources.
Mot idly hums a tuneless dirge as he wanders the room. Bored eyes search for anything interesting to occupy his time.
Slightly relieved at the sight of a library and the overall silence upstairs, Themp find himself relaxing enough to keep up with the highlander, idly browsing the shelves while keeping an eye out for hidden dangers. After all, the street rat has learned to always keep his guard up the hard way.
"For such a large library, there aren't very many books about druids," Beorae muses as she scans the shelves.
She picks up The Druidic Order of Gedion and Holly and Mistletoe: The Bridge Between Fey and Mortals. "Let's see what these have to say," she says to Shark as she sets the books down on the petrified wood table.
Beorae remembers that the druidic language is forbidden to teach to non-druids, and doing so is a serious crime among druids. She realizes that leaving druidic writing laying about runs the risk of a non-druid deciphering (though it would not be easy). She does not know if indirectly being responsible for a forbidden spread of the druidic tongue would be judged as severely. It might be that this forbiddance makes fellow druids shy about sharing their knowledge with the educated world. Then again, this is the “Library of the Neophyte”, perhaps there is more privileged information at a higher level of the tower.
In the time of this library’s activity, which was several centuries ago by the court wizard’s knowledge, the Druidic Order of Gedion was a long-dead sect of druids that followed a special code. They were legendary guardians of growing things, impartial defenders of men, animals, and trees. Their unbiased advice was sought after by all manner of rulers, and their command over the magical was the envy of many mages. Always, they strove to use their powers to defend life in all forms, and use their wisdom to find the best course of action for that defense. This account covers the history of the order, which was named after a natural phenomena hidden somewhere in the Sargentich Forest. Despite their noble endeavors to preserve life, the Gedi were involved in numerous battles.They wielded their magic against those who believed some life forms were inferior to their own, or those who would burn or raze forests (or other natural habitats) for their own gain. However, for as many conflicts in which they were involved, there is an account of their peacekeeping efforts between warring peoples. Those of the order were called the Gedi, and the last of them were lost in a great conflict called the War of Sevens. The book indicates their end as either fateful or coincidental; the number seven is considered an important number among the Gedi. The druidic order considers that number to have a connection to beginnings, endings, or revolutions, especially in prophecy. This historical account begins with the founding druids of the Order of Gedion, and ends with the demise of the order, the total years of activity lasting three hundred and fifty.
The other book goes into great detail concerning the druid’s ability to call natural creatures to their aide, and correlates this special connection to their innate resistance to fey magic. Beorae skims over the planar implications of summoning, while still picking up that the summoned are speculated to originate from the First World. The descriptive entries of dozens of fey creatures grab her attention. The dryad, describing a creature very much like the wooden friend to the tribe of gnomes, is bound to a single tree that is sacred and precious to them. Their mastery over woodcraft somewhat explains the mystery surrounding Themp’s dryad-made bow. The pixie, a swift tiny flying creature, uses enchanted arrows and mind-affecting magic to confound their foes. The nymph, a visage of perfect beauty, is said to blind and befuddle mortals who dare to look upon them. But those who can withstand their wiles can find the nymph to be a fountain of artistic inspiration and powerful command over the elements. These three share a weakness against iron weapons forged at a low temperature (known to Beorae as cold iron). But like mankind, there are fey who act not just for the forces of good, but evil as well. The kelpie and mites are prime examples of this. The kelpie is an emaciated, horse-headed man with webbed fingers, and is known to use shapechanging powers to lure unsuspecting victims into bodies of water to drown while under enchantments. Mites are small, puffy blue-skinned creatures that live deep underground and often clash with dwarves. They have an affinity for spiders, centipedes, and cave fishers, and they avoid the daylight whenever possible. Mites will often hex their foes with dark magic, though they are also weak to cold iron like their more benevolent counterparts.
Tower staff: 11
To his dismay, the knight finds no records kept by past librarians. Scanning the books does not give Nme’an an exact number of students, instructors, and support staff at the tower’s height of operation. But he does find that each school of magic had a chief professor, with the title ‘Head’. That makes for eight Heads of magic, and one Headmaster to oversee the entire tower. Ithalgol was the founder of this center for learning, and held the position of Headmaster. In his time, Ithalgol was a powerful and knowledgeable elf wizard held in high regard by every king and tribe of the ancient land. He scoured the world for intellectuals also dedicated to the education of their fellow creatures, and gathered eight others to institute what came to be known as Ithalgol’s Keep. All were welcome to enter and learn, but only the most promising of students were granted residency to pursue the higher mysteries of magic. Over the centuries of operation, some of the Head positions changed, but Ithalgol remained the Headmaster.
According to one account, the builders consisted of five mages, one of them Ithalgol himself. The Keep had twenty-one levels, and its location was chosen to stand at the center of several civilizations. By the language used, Nme’an suspects that the land surrounding Ithalgol’s Keep was once arid and dry, though not quite a desert terrain. Ithalgol’s Keep sought to teach any who would learn, most often in subjects that Nme’an thought to be common knowledge now. Literacy, basic arithmetic, crop rotation and other agricultural strategies, husbandry and other livestock breeding, metallurgy and efficient smithing techniques, and herbology and medicinal application. Of course, there were thousands of books on magic in all its forms, but most visiting folk did not pursue that subject too intensely. It might be that this “common knowledge” is so widespread thanks to Ithalgol’s endeavors over a millennia ago. In addition to educating the common folk, this tower also produced experts in dozens of fields, and these experts carried some prestige for the source of their education as they traveled throughout the world. Since the founding of the tower, it remained in operation for nearly five hundred years. It takes some shuffling through various records for Nme’an to sort out the number of active years to be four hundred and ninety, before the doors closed permanently. All that is said about the end of the educational era is an “unresolved disagreement among staff”. Nme’an finds no other records of activity after the closing of Ithalgol’s Keep, and nor does he find any more details about the students or instructors after the closing.
Nme’an finds a religious text that attempts to clarify and explain some of the whimsies of the gods. Within that text, he finds entries to a journal to someone whose experience was quite similar to the half-elf’s. In that case, the blacksmith-turned-healer found that his faith in Torag was rewarded with magical healing power from the Mastersmith himself. The account ends with the journal entries concluding that becoming a more devout and faithful follower of Torag would best fulfill the author and bring glory to his patron deity. It is not a far stretch in reasoning that leads Nme’an to realize that his powers of healing and fire are blessings from Sarenrae, the fire goddess for whom the Order of the Dawnflower is named after. In another book he finds a summary of her virtues, chief among them patience, compassion, and peace. To this end, she promotes redemption of her foes and the foes of her followers, but if there is no other option to redeem, to bring an end to an enemy swiftly in order to not prolong any suffering. She is often associated with the sun, fire, healers, and the redeemed. There was a book that theorizes about the planar source of all healing and harming energies but it gets rather too technical for Nme’an to make sense of it.
Themp does not find any explicit blueprints or floorplans to the tower in which he stands, but he does learn that Ithalgol’s Keep has twenty-one levels, eight of which are each dedicated to one of the eight branches of magic. A couple levels consist of living quarters, and there is also a kitchen. The underground basement level is functions as a waste incinerator and source for central heating for the entire tower. Other levels seem to focus on practical application of magical theory, but he does not find any further details on those levels.
Mot sees a lot of letters on the spines of the multitude of books, but none of them make any sense to him. Among the walls of nonsense, he idly wonders how so many written words can exist in one place. As he wanders further, the highlander hears a chuckle come from Nme’an, who happens to be nearby. Following the paladin’s gaze, Mot stares at the wall of books but does not find what is funny. Before he can take umbrage at what might be mockery, one book on that bookcase grabs his attention: a sword that points down along the spine. To his delight, opening this book reveals a large, colored picture on each page. Next to each picture is a single letter. On the first page is the image an axe, accompanied by the letter “A”. On the next page, a brown bear stands angrily on its hind legs, beside the letter “B”. The third page features a simple and brutal-looking club, along with the letter “C”. A cursory skim through the book shows more images related to battle associated with the next letter in the alphabet of the Common tongue. Afterwards, it shows the letters put together into short words, and then progresses into short sentences with those words. All the while, each page features sentences and pictures continue the warfare theme.
Mot sinks to the floor, a contented look on his face as he turns the pages of his newly discovered treasure.
Nme'an reports his findings about the tower to the others. That while it was a place for magical learning, it also taught many non-magical things that benefited countless lives across countless lands. He then notes that "unresolved disagreement among staff" before standing up and filing his books back from where he got them.
"We should keep moving forward," he tells the others.
After the three discuss what they learned, Nme'an leads the way forward to and through the doors with the smashed keyhole.
The damaged door groans open to a flight of stairs. The stone steps lead to a landing, where more steps continue upwards to the right and left. The Dawnflower knight sees no dangers or senses no wickedness among the stairs.
"Lets split up again for the moment. But if these stairs lead to different parts of the building I think it best that we search as a group. There are only five of us, after all,"
He again lights up his hand and moves up the left stairs with whoever decides to follow him.
Beorae follows Nme’an to the stairs and nods when he suggests seeing where the stairs go. ”I’ll check the other way,” she says, and cautiously heads upward.
Nme’an and Olp climb the stairs to the left, and Beorae with Shark in tow follows the steps to the right. The doors open and the half-elves pass through the doors at the top of the stairs to find each a hallway with five wooden doors. The light from their hands shows the walls, floor, and ceiling nearest to them, and a faint light streams from the larger room. Thanks to their elven parentage, both Nme’an and Beorae can see that the ends of their hallway opens into a larger room seemingly furnished with long wooden tables and wooden chairs.
Even though the half-elves cannot see each other in their own hallways, only Beorae sees someone seated at a long wooden table: a woman. She is quite tall with broad muscular shoulders and heavy paunch. An enormous lump bulges from the back of her neck, parting her long, curly auburn hair. She turns her gaze from the parchment in her hand to regard the druidess as she enters the hallway. She shows a smile of amused surprise.
“Oh, hello,” a warm, silky voice addresses Beorae. “I thought I heard someone downstairs. Welcome! Supper will be here soon. Come and sit, friend.” She lifts a meaty hand with a flourishing gesture of invitation and a kindly smile.
From the end of the hallway, druidess can discern misshapen eyes and eyebrows on the unsightly lump. Below the beady eyes, two holes where a nose should be. This seeming lump of a second head lacks a mouth. Her nose picks up on the aroma of a wood fire.
Nme’an hears an unfamiliar yet friendly voice issue a gracious greeting, but he cannot see who speaks. Mot and Themp hear an unfamiliar female voice upstairs, but cannot quite discern the words. Olp tenses behind his shield but says nothing as he peers into the gloom.
Beorae sees this large woman as a trusted friend and ally. She perceives the large woman’s words and actions in the most favorable way.
Beorae feels a strange tingling in her mind for just a moment.
Beorae suspects that sensation might be the effects of a failed spell. The spell was probably cast by the woman, but the druidess has no idea what type of magic was used.
Ithalgol’s Keep consists of twenty-one levels. The main entrance is one first level. The underground basement level functions as a waste incinerator and a source for central heating for the entire tower. The first level is a reception area to the public. The second level, the Library of the Neophyte, is a large collection of books available for the public to study and learn. The third level is a mess hall and living quarters to the students who have earned residency. The fourth level has a kitchen, food storage, and some minor waste management. The fifth floor is named the Room of Attainment, a level devoted to testing a student’s knowledge and ability. Students who passed the tests on this level were granted residency (so long as tuition could be paid). Specifics on those tests are not forthcoming, though one could assume they involve magical ability. The sixth level houses the instructors of magic, but are not accessible to students or the public. The seventh level is named The Spoke and appears to be a transitive floor for accessing the next eight levels. One level is devoted to teaching each school of magic, starting alphabetically with Abjuration (the eighth level), then Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy, and ending with Transmutation (the fifteenth level). Themp finds very little information about levels sixteen through twenty, save that it was reserved for advanced study and access is closely guarded. Somewhere within those top five levels is where the headmaster lived, studied, and conducted experiments.
Themp is busy reciting to himself the floors' disposition when the Elven companions break his concentration talking about moving on. The young man almost tells them of his findings, but decides to finish memorizing before doing so.
Unfortunately, as they move up, a muffled unfamiliar voice breaks his concentration yet again. Deciding unfamiliar voices are not to be trusted, Themp gives up memorizing the last five floors and stealthily moves up the stair to check on Beorae.
Mot cocks an ear towards the staircase at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, but not hearing any anger or other sounds of trouble turns back to his book and continues "reading."