“I have no love of puns,” announces a peeved Kreighton Shaine, the Master of Scrolls in the Grand Lodge, “Yet it cannot go unremarked that the Overflow Archives have begun living up to their name.” The pale elf gestures across the library’s stone lobby toward a pair of shut double doors from beneath which water steadily seeps. He is only one of the midnight visitors bearing witness to this disaster. Next to Shaine, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen stands with folded arms, glaring at an initiate whose hair and clothes are utterly drenched. All three speak at once, but Shaine’s shrill voice rises above the din. “Magical shenanigans in the archives are prohibited, especially this soon before the Grand Convocation!”
“Let us prioritize,” Dralneen suggests. “Are the artifacts within the vaults in danger?”
“How should I know?” Shaine barks back. “This delinquent initiate— what was the name? Wormell?”
“Virml, sir,” replies the sodden Pathfinder.
“Virml says he sneaked into the archives on a dare,” summarizes Shaine, painfully emphasizing the initiate’s name with scolding disdain. “Presumably, he thought the holdings would be harmless. Instead, in his naivete, Virml triggered some dormant curse or other. So, yes, thanks to Virml here, the archives and the vaults below continue to flood, threatening all the books therein.”
Miserably, Virml holds up an armload of soggy manuscripts. “I salvaged a few, sir.”
Sighing, Shaine leads Virml towards the stairs. “Take them up to the scriptorium. Start making dry copies.” Then, turning to survey the rest of the room, he continues issuing orders. “The remainder of you should wade in there and plumb the origins of this deluge. Stop it, if you can. I must report this debacle to my colleagues and begin organizing the cleanup.” Abruptly, he seems to notice the paracountess for the first time. “What are you doing here, Dralneen?”
Zarta smirks and shrugs. “Unlike you, Shaine, I love a good pun.”
|
Orophin gives the lovely Zarta a big smile before turning to the master of scrolls.
"Sir, is there a map of the archives? Also, do you have any more details about where the water is coming from, or exactly what triggered the ...influx."
He looks at Virml "And where were you, exactly, when you first noticed the waters? Can you remember the route you took?"
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Oh, geez," a tiny halfling says, wiping his hands down his face, "I'm not a strong swimmer, so I hope there's not too much water!" As the rest of the gathered Pathfinders continue to ask questions, he repeatedly takes huge breaths and attempts to hold them as long as he can, puffing out his cheeks with each one.
Virml sheepishly looks first at Shaine, then at the ground. "I...I merely picked up a wee scroll, read the first part of it aloud for fun-some kind of riddle about birds and fish? And then it flew to bits in my hand, and I caught the quickest glimpse of a handsome man, and then ker-sploosh! I washed out here!" He continues. "I hadn't made it too far in; only to the stacks."
"A map? Of the Overflow? You must be joking..." Shaine looks at Orophin incredulously. "There's the stacks, a mezzanine overlooking them, and the understacks. We've never had trouble with people getting lost in the Overflow. Now, some of what's in it, that's different, but not the Overflow itself."
|
|
"A riddle about birds and fish? Can you remember the words for us?"
He listens with interest, not at all offended by Shaine. "So the archive is just a large library? All one room with rows of book shelves?"
Turning back to Virml he asks "Tell me more about the handsome man. What did he look like, and where did you see him?"
he pauses in his questioning for a moment "What direction did the water come from? "
Orophin starts to unstrap his armour. "If we are to swim, I don't think this will be very helpful."
|
|
A heavily armored Nagaji steps forward to address the Master of Scrolls. "Sir, I realize that it is impossible for anyone to know everything of what is in there, but have you any clue what item might have caused this? Or perhaps what items in particular we should stay away from? Any knowledge you have would help us."
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
Aldur glares at Virml, his narrowed eyes the only part of his face visible behind the mask. He begins to remove any items which could become waterlogged and place them into the saddlebags of the mastiff attending him. "You stay here, Warlock," He says to the massive dog. He points to Virml. "If this one attempts any more shenanigans in the archives, you may kill and eat him."
As Virml runs off, Aldur calls him back and hands him a platinum coin. "After you drop those off, run to the stores. Tell the quartermaster you need five potion sponges." He looks at the rest of the group. "Does anyone need anything before we depart? Perhaps we should chip in on a wand of water breathing, or monkey fish?" He looks at Kreighton Shane. "Or is that something you can assist with?"
|
A young brown scaled Nagaji clad in nothing but traveling clothes stands unblinking in the corner. If he even understands what's at stake he shows no sign of it. When he speaks up, it's clear he probably should have stayed quiet.
"Risking our lives for paper?" It's all he says, but it carries the weight of his ignorance.
He shrugs finally. "Just tell me where to go."
"There's no need for that." Shaine looks at Aldur and flicks his eyes over to Virml and then at the dog. "Once he's finished answering questions, he'll head up the Overflow's scriptorium, just up these stairs, and get to work. He's going to be one busy man for a while."
Virml looks even more miserable, if possible, as he hands the platinum coin back to Aldur. He chooses to answer Orophin first. "I actually have a bit of what I was reading when, well, ker'sploosh." He sheepishly hands over a scrap of scroll. Shaine snatches it quickly and reads it. "It seems to be one of the rhymes from The Name of the Fox, scripted in Sylvan. There's nothing remarkable about it-"
"Nothing until now, perhaps?" Quips Zarta Dralneen.
Virml shakes his wet and bedraggled head at Orophin. "It was only up to my knees when I got pushed out. Maybe even a bit lower, if it's draining into the understacks."
|
|
Chup pulls his pants up really high, almost to his armpits, and walks over to the doors with a stern look on his little face. "Guess old Uncle Dip Spoony was right. He always used to say, 'Chup, one day you'll have to dig down deep to find what you're made of.' I always used to think he was talking about work. Dip was a necromancer, always digging up graves for spare parts to graft onto his body. At one point, I think he had six arms and three legs. 'Metric,' he used to say. Gross, I know, but he was a nice guy once you got to know him, all of him, even the parts that used to fall off when we played ball. Anyway, now I think I know what he was really talking about: not digging up body parts, but getting to the bottom of your problems. That's where you find yourself. I'm sure of it now." He pauses and glances back over his shoulder at everyone else. "Think there's any undead down there?"
Virml shakes his head slowly. "I didn't get a good look at the handsome man. I only had a moment before the water pushed me into the lobby. I don't think there was anyone else in there, though, so I'm sure you'll be able to find him. There's no other way out but these doors."
Oh, there's nothing in there that's too bad. This is just an annex of Master Shaine's vast libraries. Specifically, where he stows the oddities he doesn't know what else to do with." Zarta grins at Shaine, who frowns at the blunt admission.
"This building is much more than that. Before it collapsed and the Grand Lodge was built over the ruins, this was a great temple to Desna. Why, the relics we pulled out of here when we re-excavated the Overflow Archives, it's enough to make me-"
"That's quite enough of that. Midnight with a flooding archive is no time for a history lesson; though, if you want one after, I'm sure Master Shaine would be happy to spout endless founts of knowledge until you're inundated with it." Zarta shoots a self-satisfied smirk at the half-elf, who puts his head into one hand and shakes his head. "Well, if that's all? No, one more? Undead? I don't believe so. There shouldn't have been anything alive in there to begin with." Shaine puts an arm around Virml's shoulder and maneuvers him toward the stairs in the south before stepping out the door. Zarta stays a moment longer. "Good luck in there."
Orophin opens the door onto a spacious library, now a damp catastrophe. A lake of dark water clogged with books, scroll cases, and a few overturned shelves obscures the floor. Steps descend into the brine from the western doors, while at the east end of the room a spiral staircase rises from the water to a mezzanine above. The same metal staircase must descend into a basement below as well, for the water there burbles downward in a dark, lazy whirlpool.
In the shallow bog floats what was once a disorganized wealth of papers, treatises, baubles, and books, while more sit on the upper shelves of the many book-cases still upright. The vaulted ceilings and pillars of the Overflow Archives are decorated with moons, starry skies, and flitting butterflies thousands of years old, while everburning torches flicker a scant few feet above the water, lighting the room clearly.
From across the room echo a pair of voices, seemingly bickering over something. "Whooooo? Whooooo saw the fishy-fish? Whoooo caught the fishy-fish?"
There's an angry clacking sound, and then the other voice begins. "You liar! I caught it! It was me, all me! My fish! Mine!"
A cursory inspection of the library sees a few upturned book-cases, atop one of which ride a pair of strange creatures. Men clad in forest-colored loincloths from the neck down, their heads appear to be those of an owl and an albatross, respectively, and wood-and-leaf wings sprout from their backs. A pair of fishing poles lie forgotten on the makeshift raft while the two pull and tug on a scrap of paper.
|
|
"Well, it would appear that two of the characters from the poem have come to the overflow." mutters Orophin.
He looks around the rest of the team.
"I don't want to meet the big fish that eats them though. They would appear to be the obvious first point of investigation."
Orophin quickly casts a detect magic, looking for any aura's floating around.
|
Stonegrin a stout Dwarf of quadratic proportions curiously eyes the fish men or whatever they are he scratches his beard pulls out a keg and pours an odd dark liquid nto it.
Ey fellers... he calls out. I thinks we should do some talkin. I broughts a very special drink fer ye...Kudrak Strongale! Finest brew in the Five King Mountains so why don't cha come round and share a sip?
|
|
Having followed quietly as the others started the investigation, Ysmero shakes his head at the scene before him.
"Bird men? Water and birdmen? Water...And birdmen..." It's all he seems to able to say, and he just keeps grumbling it over and over as he looks around the room and into the water. As though it will help him solve the problem.
|
|
Aldur looks sadly at the paper floating in the water. So much damage, He thinks to himself. He had been joking about allowing Warlock too eat Virml, but there was a small part of him that would have been accepting of it.
He takes a gold coin out of his pouch, the shiniest one he can find, and flips it into the air with a ting to catch the attention of the arguing gathlains.
"Ho, friends! I have a contest for you if you're interested." He holds up the coin for them. "This, and more besides, for the one of you that tells me everything you know about this flood... In rhyme."
|
|
Senach steps into the room, aghast at all of the damage to the priceless tomes and manuscripts. "Gods be blessed, this is horrible!" he exclaims. As Aldur engages the things, he takes a close look at them, trying to determine weapons and aggression level. As the beastmen turn towards Aldurs call, Senach steps forward alongside him. "Come friends, let us see what games we can play!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
At first, both bird men simply look at the party, the owl-headed gathlain haughtily and the albatross-headed one with suspicion, but at Senach's promise of a game and Chup's silly antics in the water, they relax just a hair, neither of them letting go of the scrap of paper. After a few seconds, they both nod at each other, then the owl begins rhyming.
"There once was really big sleeper,
Whoooo only would awaken only to sleep deeper,
But then things did change,
And she swam out enraged,
And so we fled really quick like good sneakers!"
When he's finished, the albatross immediately begins booing loudly. "Boo! Boooooo! Limericks are the worst rhymes. Even worse than your fishy-fish-fishing!"
The owl glares at him, turning his head around to do so, and speaks crankily. "Fine, if you-whoooo think you can do-oooo it better, let's hear your trite rhyme and be done with it." The albatross stands, offers a highly-theatrical bow that rocks the makeshift fishing boat (knocking a pole into the water), and begins his own rhyme.
"We came with the smarty-pants cat-dog,
Who went down the hole with the stairs,
And our good friend the big sleeper fish,
Who to awaken neither of us dares,
When the cat-dog did dive down the stairs,
He scared away all the best fish,
Why he did it neither of us cares,
For fishing's our only real wish!"
After a bit of jostling, they both turn toward Aldur and the rest of the party, eagerly awaiting their winnings.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Senach replies
"A good turn earns a turn around
and 'roundy round the bush we shall go
did the smarty pants cat dog get drowned?
or does it breath water as so?"
"Why do you fear the sleeper fish
does it enjoy people as a dinner dish?
How do we keep it asleep
if we must cross the water deep?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"If the sleeper you-ooooo seek to awaken,
You'll find that that option's been taken,
When the dog-cat did flee,
She did wake up, you-ooooo see,
And so did we take a vacation."
As the owl-gathlain finishes his speech, the albatross gathlain once again bursts into a raucous chorus of boos before deciding to tell its own limerick.
"I know not if the cat-dog breathes water,
For all I know he is part otter,
And as for big sleeper,
If you become a fullness,
For the big sleepy dullness,
It'd most likely be she forgot ya."
"Shhhhh! She might be listening, and then she'll come back down!" The owl-gathlain screeches out. "Whoo-ooooo wants that? Do-ooo you-ooo want to-oooo be eaten again, even if it's just by accident?"
"Oh, you're right, of course! That was awful, and it just never ended. Well, until it did." As he finishes his sentence, the albatross-gathlain makes a dive for the scrap of paper, shouting at the top of his lungs. "MY FISHY-FISH!" Both get into a protracted struggle which ends with them each tugging on the paper once again. The makeshift boat rocks perilously, depositing the other fishing pole into the briny water.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Orophin looks thoroughly bemused.
"So three of them, the owl, the albatross and the cat-dog all went down the stairs. The cat-dog woke up the big sleeping fish, and these two fled, leaving the cat-dog to its fate?" he tries to summarize.
"If one were to go down deep
What must one care for lest one sleep?
For myself I have a wish
to never be the fishes dish
But rather all these files keep."
Then to make it clear
"To remove or to safety lug
these files, I'll no fish hug
But as no bird I cannot fly
And so to make the files dry
I look to pull a plug."
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"My thanks I give, and more besides.
You've been an extra set of eyes.
I keep my word, so here's my coin
You've earned it well, it's not purloined."
"And as one good turn deserves another
Observe this hardy band of brothers.
We seek the secret of this torrent,
This wayfinder serves as our warrant."
"There may be danger, we seek
It out although the odds be bleak.
If her presence is something you fear,
You'd do well to get out of here."
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Ysero is utterly confused at first as the party seems to all be enchanted to speak in tongues. Suspecting these strange Birdman of some sort of enchantment, he turns his unblinking eyes on them wand watches for any behavior that may lead to more rhyming, but keeps his own mouth firmly shut, lest he be enchanted as well. He makes out the gist of what is being told at least, but is not sure he trusts these birdmen just yet.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
As the two bird-men begin fighting over the coin, the bookshelf boat rocks even more precariously. After a moment, a somewhat feather-pulled owl-gathlain emerges victorious, while the other one snatches at the scrap of paper as a consolation prize. The owl begins to respond to Orophin's attempt to clarify in rhyme.
"Who-oooo would think we went down the stairs?
Much too-oooo wet there for our cares-"
But before he can get more than a pair of lines, not even a full stanza, into his poem, the albatross clobbers him on the shoulder. "Enough rhymes! I'll never listen to another rhyme again, I swear! But yes, the cat-dog smarty-pants went down, we went out, and the big sleeper went up. She swam." As he talks, the albatross-gathlain inadvertantly shows the paper scrap; it seems to have a similar tear line to the scroll fragment given by Master Shaine.
|
|
As Orophin tries to get the slip of paper, Aldur looks around the room, attempting to scoop anything floating and waterlogged, but not yet destroyed, and find a place for it on a higher, drier shelf. "Whatever Virml did, assuming he was telling the truth, should not have had such a disastrous effect," he says. "Something more powerful than anyone realized was stored improperly."
As Shaine guides Virml up the flight of stairs toward the scriptorium and then steps out of the lobby to go back to bed, Zarta Dralneen lingers for a moment. Her arm snakes out, and she grabs Aldur, pulling him close. "Listen, and listen closely. I have need of a specific book that Shaine has been loath to let me peruse. Get me a copy of The Darklands Precepts, and perhaps you'll have proven your value to me." Without giving him so much as a moment to ask questions, she lets him go and heads out the door, hurrying to catch up with Shaine.
"Flew-oooo. She flew-oooo up to the balcony-thing." The owl-gathlain gestures at an open area with railings overlooking the stacks, then at the spiral staircase, which circles up into the ceiling and from there to the open area. What seems to be a fine mist falls from between the rails onto the stacks below as well.
The albatross-gathlain pulls the paper back hesitantly, before looking at Orophin. "A trade? My fishy-fish is worth more than a shiny-coin. Get our poles back, and the shiny coin, and then maybe."
While the water is filled with debris and detritus both native and foreign to an storage-room like the Overflow Archives, At no point has it gotten deeper than anyone's knees (with the exception of Chup, who's waist-deep in it). Aldur and Orophin are able to find the poles and retrieve them, much to the delight of the two gathlains. However, the albatross gathlain seems reluctant to surrender it. "It's still my fishy-fish. I just don't know if you'll take care of it right. Besides, I worked hard to catch it!"
"You-oooo did not. Who-oooooo spotted it first? Who-ooooo told you where it was?"
Senach steps into the room, aghast at all of the damage to the priceless tomes and manuscripts. "Gods be blessed, this is horrible!" he exclaims. As Aldur engages the things, he takes a close look at them, trying to determine weapons and aggression level. As the beastmen turn towards Aldurs call, Senach steps forward alongside him. "Come friends, let us see what games we can play!"
[dice=Perception]1d20+7
[dice=Aid another Diplomacy]1d20+7
Aldur scans the water for the fishing poles, making sure they are actually poles, and not some sort of wizards staff with a string tied to it.
Perception+Inspiration: 1d20 + 12 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 12 + (3) = 21
In their scanning and poking around, Senach and Aldur are able to turn up a pair of scrolls that are still mostly intact. The first floats near the entrance to the archive atop a book, while the second is mostly dry inside a scroll case below the knee-high water.
At Chup's begging and and Orophin's assurances, the two gathlains huddle up on the bookshelf-raft. For nearly a minute, there's only the sound of muttered Sylvan and the gently falling water coming from the mezzanine above, and then the albatross-gathlain sullenly turns, putting the scroll scrap on the bookshelf-raft and making a grab for the coin and fishing-poles. He immediately begins tying the coin to the end of his line while the owl-gathlain glares at him, jostling and pushing. "Who-oooo told you-ooo to-oooo trade with them? Who-oooo's the wisest here? It should be my shiny-bait."
____________________________________________________________________
As the party makes its way up the wrought-iron staircase, they see what seems to be a large fish, casually flopping a squirming back and forth between the four shelves in the mezzanine. Long, somewhat spiny fins protrude from its back, while a number of tentacles on its stomach alternate between dragging it along leisurely and waving in the air. It expels impossibly-large volumes of water into the room, though most of it simply drips into the room below through the railing. When it notices the party, it stops spraying water all across the floor, looking both surprised and inquisitive. It speaks in a bubbly-yet-feminine tongue, rolling 'r's and drawing out vowels. "Yr wyf yn ei ddweud, beth ar y ddaear wyt ti'n ei wneud yma? A ydym wedi eu bodloni? Ni allaf gofio ... A ydych chi wedi gweld bod ofnadwy, llwynog drahaus?"