Ever tactful, Narissa sees the the group need to discuss matters among themselves.
"My fears are already greatly allayed by your presence in Namarth ..." she pauses.
"Forgive me, but did you mention Pierette? Could you be meaning Pirot Samagal? I don't know him personally, on any level, but I know of him. A great scholar. Entering the University grounds can be a tiresome business, but with your permission, I can arrange that for you."
She gathers herself to leave with Riordan, pausing to take Arianwyn's hands once more.
Arianwyn
"I am happier to see you than I thought possible. That was true even before I was endangered. We shall reminisce when this is over dear love, I promise it."
"Perhaps you will join me for lunch tomorrow? It may be that I can help you further when you know more."
Entirely composed and very much her charming self again, she takes Riordan's arm and they walk out of the Way with Words. The room seems less bright in their absence.
Roswitha gives her head a little shake and brings herself back to her duties. "A private room? Oh, yes. Of course. And food is easy. What would you like?"
"So uh what about the shards I'm carrying?" Gobi interjects, "I mean this stuff is all important but we also can't forget why we've come."
Roswitha looks in awe at Gobi. "You're so focussed," she says admiringly before bustling towards the kitchen.
"Is that why you came? To see Pirot Samagal?" she asks more generally. "It's lucky you met Narissa if it is. He doesn't see anyone, so they say. He's a very private person."
"And Narissa can help us?" Vel asks coolly, having rejoined the group.
Gobi smiles at Roswitha and turns on the heroics.
"Well we're not splitting up to investigate so we should decide what we achieve first." for a moment he reminds himself of his father. " aye.. I need my equipment." he heads to get his armor and other things.
Vel seems to render Roswitha rather shy, but she nods vigorously.
"Oh yes. Narissa's a legend here. You're very, very lucky she likes your friend. She can makes things easy for you or she can make them impossible. I never really met her before, but I've heard all kinds of stories."
"You want us to go see a self imposed recluse after dark? I don't know about this man, but if I deliberately chose to be reclusive, I think I'd be less likely to be happy to see people if they showed up well after dark. It would show more courtesy if we were to wait until morning."
"Judging by what Narissa said, we won't be able to see him until she has made arrangements anyway, so that sounds like tomorrow for... Porrot (I must write his name down so I can remember it)."
"If we are done for tonight, I would like to go back to the interrupted study Reason and I were doing. If there's time tomorrow, I would also like to do some shopping before we go anywhere that might require fighting - although if I were honest, it would seem we don't actually have to go anywhere to find trouble. I shall be sure to carry my full gear around with me while I am in this town."
"So, are agreed that tomorrow we visit... that man?"
"Now, could you possibly arrange for a meal to go with this excellent brandy? I wasn't hungry earlier, but I seem to be now.[/ooc]
"Of course." Roswitha pulls out a notepad and jots down food orders for the party. As she turns to go, she pauses for a last look at the innocent seeming poetry book, still lying where it fell.
"Could one of you pick that up?" she asks nervously. "I'm not sure I trust it."
Arianwyn picks the book up, "Let us see what tomorrow brings." he mutters.
Vel comes downstairs in the morning, equipped for city wandering, rather than wilderness exploring.
Day 7
The comfort of The Way with Words ensures restful slumber for you all. When you come down to breakfast, Roswitha is waiting and hands Arianwyn a note in a distinctive and beautiful script before plying you with a lavish breakfast.
Arianwyn
As I promised, I have made arrangements for you to visit Pirot Samagal this morning. He lives on the University grounds and occupies the ground floor of the Arcane Tower. Mention my name to the gatekeeper on duty and you will be admitted.
There have been no further occurrences, but be assured, I have put my own security precautions in place and so they will remain until you assure me that the danger is contained.
If you and your companions care to join me for lunch at my home, I should be happy to welcome you there. Roswitha too, is most welcome. The lazy, diamond-studded flunkies are aware that you are honoured guests. Narissa
Arianwyn summarises the particulars of the letter for his companions.
Day 7
Bright morning greets you make your way into the bustling streets of Namarth, carefully following Roswitha's instructions. The town is not laid out particularly rationally and although the main University enclave lies at the centre, it can only be approached in one direction.
Inevitably the route in lined with shops of all kinds. Booksellers, herbalists, suppliers of arcane components, weaponsmiths, wandmakers, bakers, coffee shops and dressmakers of all sorts jostle for business in a never-ended panorama. The road is closed to horse drawn vehicles, and you have to force your way through crowds of students and shoppers, none of whom have the least concern about stopping to argue in the middle of the street.
Namarth's main street - imagine the extra people
Arriving at last at the imposing gates of the University, you walk towards the gatekeeper, a deeply bored man in an elaborate uniform, who is casting a cursory glance at everyone going in and coming out. He seems to have an instinct for students, merely handwaving them through, but messengers and other unknowns are subjected to close scrutiny and questioning. On approval, such folk are sent to sign an enormous book, kept by an acidic woman who appears to take some pleasure in making the signing in process unfeasibly complex.
Vel looks to Kia or even Arianwyn to smooth-talk their way into the University. She knows she's out of her element.
"Good day." Arianwyn says pleasantly to the porter.
"Morning to you, sir. What can I do for you?"
"We are here to see Pirot Samagal. Narissa Sul-malla has recommended us." the eladrin replies politely.
The gatekeeper gives you his full attention when you mention Narissa's name and he crosses quickly to the acidic woman. A couple of words and a swift glance at the book are enough and he returns, nodding respectfully.
"Right you are sir. All of you would that be? Straight ahead to the Arcane Tower. Been a busy morning for our Mr Samagal. Second visitors today."
Arianwyn's eyes narrow, and he replies, "Yes, indeed all of us," and proceeds to give everyone's name for the ledger.
"You mentioned some other visitors, perchance would you have their names too?"
"Just a messenger, sir. Came and went. Very quick delivery. He came last night as well, but there are, as you know sir, rules about that. No deliveries after 10."
With a benevolent and slightly expectant smile, the gatekeeper gestures to you to pass through the gate, temptingly leaving his palm open.
Arianwyn's eyes widen and he races through the gate towards the indicated quarters.
The warlock pounds across the immaculately manicured lawns, dodging students and professors alike as he heads for the Arcane Tower. Centuries old, it is a squat building, thick walled but graceful and has long stood guardian over the enclave. There is only one door, a heavy affair of wood.
Without waiting for the others, Arianwyn tries to open the door.
We are already too late... he thinks to himself.
The door is locked. Despite his frantic pounding, nobody answers. A passing student calls "Don't bother. The old man will have your head off."
Arianwyn considers blasting the lock.
Whiteclaw races towards the tower with the others, though she is likely feeling the least sense of urgency. But, as Arianwyn slams into the door, trying to bash it open, the gnoll yells "Move out of the way."
As races towards the door, and on the way there, she changes. Her body alters itself, and a snow white Warthog finishes the charge, hitting the door with it's shoulder.
"Well."
"That's new..."
The door cannot withstand the impact of a fully grown warthog and bursts open.
A faint ripple of applause rings round the quadrangle as the passers by note and approve of Whiteclaw's effortless transformation. In the background a pedantic voice can be heard. "Notice the manner in which the tranformation was used. The front legs first, giving added propulsion ..."
You find yourselves in a wood panelled hallway. A flight of thickly dusted spiral stairs leads upwards. Around the curve of the stairs, you can just see another door.
A tiny brass plate screwed to the wall reads "P Samagal, Emeritus Professor of Arcane History". The plate has been scored through by someone in the past, but the words are still clearly legible.
Vel unhurriedly follows the others in, as if Whiteclaw's action is perfectly normal.
Arianwyn rolls his eyes, "That could have been more discreet..." he mutters.
"As you may or may not have surmised, the professor has in all likelihood received a package much like Narissa's." Arianwyn lectures his colleagues.
"As you may or may not have surmised, the professor has in all likelihood received a package much like Narissa's." Arianwyn lectures his colleagues.
Vel rolls her eyes.
Reason advances to the door, holy symbol out, and attempts to open it.