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Pathfinder Society Scenario #6–15: The Overflow Archives
A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for levels 1–5.
Beneath the Grand Lodge of Absalom lie the vaults, a series of storerooms and libraries that contain much of the Society’s findings from the past centuries. Cataloguing the sundry relics and texts takes time, and finds requiring closer study find their way to an extensive vault called the Overflow Archives. Soon after a pair of initiates sneaks into the archive and steals a few items on a dare, the complex inexplicably springs a leak. It is up to the PCs to investigate this strange phenomenon and put a stop to it before thousands of priceless documents are ruined forever.
Content in “The Overflow Archives” also contributes directly to the ongoing storyline of the Dark Archive faction.
Written by Scott Sharplin.
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This semi-closed campaign is part of PbP Gameday VI, Session II, October 6-November 17, 2017.
Instructions: Once you have been accepted into the party by the GM, please "ninja-dot" here in order to enter this scenario into the list of your campaign threads.
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You meet in the Overflow Archives, one of the Grand Lodge’s outbuildings.
“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 naïveté, 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.”
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The Master of Scrollsglares at you with eyes that might burst at any moment. "Well, why are you just standing there? I told Janira, I need a plumber. Find me a plumber! Why on earth would that little vixen send me you lot, instead?"
Young Virml seems grateful Kreighton Shaine is venting his frustration on anyone else but him. He starts creeping toward the scriptorium.
The Dark Archive faction leader wets her lips and smiles. "Now, now, Kreighton. Be gentle with these darlings."
Zarta Dralneen turns to you. Her predatory gaze sends all kinds of shivers down your spine and tingles all ten of your toes. "Don't you have some questions you'd like to ask us?"
The Master of Scrolls snorts. "What they ought to do is grab a plunger and get moving!"
Just as Virml is about to get away, Zarta summons him back, taking his shaking hand and caressing it. Like a cougar might play with a mouse. "Maybe even Virml can provide some answers, too. Hmmm, Virml?"
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"Yo, Mister Master of Scrolls," Tiffany throws up some air quotes. "Relax! We're here to help, and if water's the game, then, well, have you seen my feet? Take a look." She kicks her foot up, her toes covered in bright pink, sparkly polish. "As webbed as a tarantula's den, right? Like, don't worry, everything's gonna be totally fine!" Pulling over a chair, Tiffany jumps up and lounges on it, again buffing her nails. "So we're going for a dip, then? Get your swimsuit out, Corona! I hope you like water, Ebonwolf!"
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"Aye there Tiff. I've been in need of a good bath. Ben a good month since the last time. Not by me own doin' I keep getting called on more and more by the higher ups" Ebonwolf points a thumb at the 'Master of scrolls' "So Virml was it? Where did you end o'up when the deluge started?"
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Before Virml can get a word out in answer to Ebonwolf, Shaine cuts him off. “Our delinquent initiate here is vague on the details. But clearly, some unclassified item in the Overflow Archives must have borne a well-concealed curse.”
With a sheepish expression, Virml relates, “I…I merely picked up a wee scroll, read 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!”
In a feeble voice, Virml volunteers, "But I did rescue a few texts—"
Shaine interrupts the young man again. “Don’t waste your time with the individual pieces. You must arrest the flood at its source—or reverse it, if possible.”
Zarta watches bemused as the Master of Scrolls browbeats the initiate, who struggles to offer you some useful information.
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Looking to Virml, Lady Catherine asks “Pray tell, how did you select which texts to save? Was it based on rarity, condition, or did you just grab whatever was close by? How will that make up for all the literature your little prank has endangered?”
Waving her hand in the direction of the water seeping under the doors, she adds “Right now, it seems to me you have utterly failed at your duties as a custodian.”
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"Seriously! The guy's face is starting to look more like Drendle Dreng's with all that worry and grump!" Tiffany whispers back, a giggle in her voice.
Hopping off of her chair, Tiffany pads over to Lady Catherine. "Straight to business, eh, Lady C? I like it! Almost as much as I'm going to like what a dip into these waters will do for my skin... Sigh... Say Virml, anything mean or spooky down there that we should be ready for? Did this curse release anything .. eeeeeevil?"
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The paracountess whispers to Corona, "Kreighton's dalliance with the perky halfling is, perhaps, the worst-kept secret in Skyreach."
Blushing with embarrassment at Lady Catherine's not so subtle criticism, Virml tries to reply to her question, but the Master of Scrolls responds first.
Kreighton Shaine quickly reviews the titles. “Let’s see…various accounts of the First World and the fey that inhabit it. Nothing here is priceless, but it is worth recopying, thanks to the severe water damage.”
Virml answers "Princess" Tiffany's query with a bewildered shrug and sheepishly produces a dripping fragment of a scroll.
Shaine snatches the parchment and hands it over, saying “It appears to be one of the rhymes from The Name of the Fox. It’s an odd little scroll of Varisian doggerel, scripted in Sylvan. There’s nothing remarkable about it—”
“Nothing until now, perhaps?” quips Zarta Dralneen.
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"I'm not for know'n much of the ways o' poets. But tha' sleeper bit is sound'n bad. What do ye?" Ebonwolf looks to the rest of the group for a response. Feeling a little out of sorts he sneaks a quick swig from his personal flask.
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Nixie is enchanted. She loves libraries, and she loves water. Not paying a bit of attention to what Shaine has said, she splashes happily in the puddle on the floor. "Oh, this is wonderful! How thoughtful! When did you set up the library like this? Is it a new feature?"
She runs up and hugs Shaine. It's a very damp and soggy hug. "I love this so much!"
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At the undine bard's exuberent embrace, the Master of Scrolls is finally too stunned for words. His jaw goes slack, his eyes roll back in his head, his knees buckle, and he collapses to the floor.
With perfect timing, Zarta slow claps at Nixie's performance. Bravo, young lady. Nicely done, indeed. Don't worry about Kreighton, he's only fainted."
She finishes off her cognac and sets the snifter down, deliberately setting it on the antique wooden table, next to but not on one of Creighton Shaine's sandstone coasters. "Oh dear, do you think that might leave a stain?"
She faces the assembled team. "I believe you have all the information we can give you. You'd better get on with it, then."
Zarta Dralneen motions to Nixie to follow her outside the building. "I'd like a private word with you, Nixie Attwater."
“The Dark Archive thrives by the good graces of the Decemvirate and Ambrus Valsin, yet I can tell that some still doubt our ability to handle truly dangerous relics and the rare disaster like this. As a result, there remain many storerooms barred to our comprehensive study, including the Overflow Archives—until today, that is. It is critical that you minimize the damage to these archives and do so in as professional a manner as possible. If I can demonstrate that my agents are capable and trustworthy, we may win permission to study the truly mysterious treasures beneath the Grand Lodge.”
She shrugs and smiles before continuing. “That said, I know that there is more than junk beyond those doors. I’ve heard that someone squirreled away a copy of The Darklands Precepts somewhere in there, and it’s far too dangerous a tome to leave lying about. Get it out of there and return it to me, no matter what excuse Shaine might make to toss it back in the pile.”
"Now, young lady, you'd better rejoin your companions. They'll be curious. Just tell them I've invited you to intern as my personal assistant between this and your next mission. Who knows, it might even be true."
She dismisses you with a suggestive wink full of secret promise.
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Watching Kreighton faint, The Lady Catherine remarks in a chiding voice “Elves, always so dramatic!”
Following Zarta’s instructions, she leaves the master of scrolls where he fell. Gathering Mr. Collins, she says “Let us see what damage that initiate has wrought. We simply must fix it, can’t have literature damaged like that. It simple would not do!”
Having said that, she opens the doors to the Overflow Archives.
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As Lady C opens the door to the Archives, Tiffany moves back a hundred feet from the entrance. "Ready, Bebop?"
She places her green foot firmly on the ground behind her and takes off in a full sprint, leaping into the water with a graceful, free-spirited dive. "WeeEEEEEeeeeee!" Splash!
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"Oh, uh...isn't anyone worried about...no?" Corona asks as everyone prepares to head down into the Archives, not paying the least bit of attention to the Master of Scrolls sprawled on the floor.
With a shrug, she kneels down and pulls the elf into a sitting position, propping him against a nearby wall for support. She starts to stand but then as an afterthought, she digs into her pack for a moment and pulls out of a piece of charcoal and then draws something on Shane's forehead. Standing back up, she surveys her handiwork with a satisfied smile.
'I'm a huge grump :('
"Perfect! Oh, they're going to leave without us! Stuffing, come on!" she cries before hurrying after her amphibious friends.
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Shaking her head at the evident chaos of the room, Kaya stays towards the back, listening and nodding at the shenanigans the group this time manages to get up to. She can't help but be amused at Master Kreighton's behavior. The last time she'd seen him, he was rather a great deal more, ah... Sophisticated? Strange, to be certain, but to see him so flustered was certainly a treat of its own kind. It wasn't too different from the poem, she thought. Maybe Shaine was the owl in this scenario?
As she advances with the others, stepping closer to the lead to keep an eye out for traps, she can't help but giggle a bit at Corona's handiwork. "Nicely drawn," she murmurs, her eyes twinkling with delight, flicking just the one triangular ear.
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The Lady Catherine de Bourg opens the door from the lobby to the stacks.
Ever the careful rogue, Kaya Yoshida ensures no traps are present. Silent as ghost, she slips—not literally—down the stairs, up to her knees in water.
This spacious library is 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.
"Princess" Tiffany, like an amphibian Audrey Hepburn, makes a running long jump into the library. At the threshold, she slips on a soggy back issue of Grippli's Believe or Not and bellyflops with the all grace of bathing yeti.
Corona, the inspired street artist, admires her latest work, and heads into the stacks, followed by her finger-lickin'-good familiar.
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The room is partially flooded and, moving around, it's like walking through a shallow bog.
The northeast corner of the room remains in disrepair, having never quite been rebuilt in full following damage during the massive earthquake that rocked Absalom over a decade ago.
The spiral staircase sits upon an elevated masonry foundation about 1 foot in height, preventing the water from immediately flowing down to the lower level. From there, the stairs rise about 10 feet.
A sporadic cascade of water spurts and gushes down from the mezzanine, just south of the staircase. The flow appears substantial, but neither the waterfall nor the whirlpool poses much threat, but tiny creatures near the staircase might be pulled by the current and swept down the stairs.
Two birdlike creatures—one owl-faced, the other resembling an albatross—have converted a mahogany bookshelf into a fishing boat. The pair are casting their crude fishing rods near the spiral staircase and bickering about something.
"The scroll is mine!" shrieks the Owl.
"But I saw it first! shouts the Albatross.
"The Hellknights say 'possession is nine-tenths of the law'!" proclaims the Owl.
"Oh yeah? Hellknights suck frogs' eggs!" objects the Albatross.
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"Oof...this place is a mess!" Corona exclaims as they enter into the first room of the archives. Bending down, she scoops Stuffing into her arms. "I'd better carry you for right now, okay? Don't want you to get washed away!"
As their attention is drawn to the Owl and the Albatross shrieking and squabbling on their makeshift boat, Corona blinks. "Oh wow...um, are we actually seeing this? Or did I just take too much of New Friend Skye's herbs this morning?" she says aloud to no one in particular as she rubs at her eyes.
Having decided that the pair are, indeed, real - or at least real enough, she clears her throat. "Um, hello? Are you two having fun?"
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Suck frog eggs?!?! What are they, part snake!
The Lady Catherine loudly clears her throat, glaring at the two bird like creatures and says “ایا ستاسو ملکه ستاسو د خولې څخه راوتل شوي کیریش ډول پیژني؟l”
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"Well there be no time like'n the present." not as graceful as the others are in water Ebonwolf wades in through the door.
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"Well i'll be, if I didn't know any beddar I'd think I had a few tho many o' me fadders brew l. Good stuffs mind you. if'n make it through this unscathed I'll gladly be share'n a few sips." looking over the squabble currently happening Ebonwolf thinks to himself Did I just step into one o' them novels by Who was it now... "Lewis Carroll" he blurts out the remainders of his internal thoughts.
"Oi! 'ello!!! Names Ebonwolf Metalbender. Might've heard o' me. Famous Dwarven Brewer an all. What is it you two fight'n over? Might be a good ear to listen to each other's end o' it and help decide who the proper owner should be. Seeing as 9/10s and hellknights bein' brought up and were not in Cheliax at the moment."
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Kaya... isn't entirely sure what she's looking at right now, but considering that the others have apparently seen this fiasco, too, she's at least not lost her mind. Still, didn't this match the little bit about the owl and the albatross rather well?
Amused, Kaya points out, "Careful there or the Owl might fish up something great enough to take them both." She scans the room, curious to see what else might be about. She looks to see if the water level is rising and, eyeing the floor, looks for any sort of possible drainage system. She didn't know if there would be one, but many Pathfinders were paranoid enough that she wouldn't be surprised if there were!
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Nixie’s eyes light up at the secret mission. ”Oh, that sounds delightful! Thank you, Zarta!”
”You’re the best, Zarta!” Nixie gives Zarta a soaking wet hug, and then proceeds into library, leaping into the water with a splash of her own.
Her eyes widen as she sees the drain with the water cascading from above! Oh, a waterfall! It was the prettiest thing that she had ever seen, and she wants to splash under it, but her friends were discussing something with two very strange creatures.
”Oh, hello! I’m Nixie, a creature of water. I’m the Memory of my People, and I’m journeying to learn the ways of those above the waters so I can bring back wisdom to my tribe. I haven’t found much yet, but I’m still hopeful!” She beams at the strange creatures, then gestures to her team. ”These are my teammates, and they’re all very nice. Some of them even swim!” She says this last, proudly, because this is the first time she’s traveled with anyone landfolk who liked swimming.
”What are you fishing for here? I’ve never fished in a library before! I love fish, don’t you? They’re all —” Nixie pauses to make swimming motions with her arms as if they were fins, and then burbling noises as if blowing bubbles out her mouth, ”— and they’re pretty too!”
She cocks her head, studying them, trying to figure out what they’re about.
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Tiffany wades through the water towards the bookshelf, nearly getting hooked in the process. She pokes her head up and points at the albatross and owl. "Hey, watch it with the rods, guys! I don't even taste good! Well, unless you're a nagaji..." She grabs the side of the makeshift raft and hoists herself up, making no effort to avoid splashing the two fisheranimals. "Trade Princess Tiffany, in the flesh. You've probably heard of me, though. Most people have! So, what's with the rods? Fishing for books? Scrolls?! PRICELESS GEMS!?!?!? OH!" She dramatically props her chin up on her hands, her eyes wide as she peers into the water in search of something shiny.
Mr. Collins moves forward, causing some waves with his movement. He shows no signs of wanting to swim through this morass.
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The Owl and the Albatross answer Lady Catherine's reproach with indignant outrage. "You are encroaching on our 'bestest fishin’ spot.' Back off, frogman!"
The angry Albatross says, "Give a man a book, and he goes to bed hungry."
The wise Owl adds, "Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime."
Before the situation spins beyond your control, Ebonwolf's friendly greeting, aided by Nixie's shared love of angling and by Kaya's reminder about possible dangers lurking in the floodwaters, melt the hearts of the two tiny fey.
The apprehensive Albatross gives Kaya an excited nod, "We made a harrowing journey through the belly of the 'the big sleeper.' Very scary but so exciting!"
The oscillating Owl interjects, "Hush, my Albatross friend! In case she’s listening—I don’t want to get eaten!”
The afraid Albatross and the obsessed Owl fall silent in fear.
The Albatross adds in an aside, "And then we met some smarty-pants dogcat. He splashed down into the fishin’ hole, scarin’ away the bestest fish.”
The addled Albatross seems to have forgotten the scroll fragment the Owl still clutches in his talons.
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Tiffany scans the duo from head to toe. "Yeah, I'm totally not fooled. Lady C's right. They don't know s$&%!" Folding her arms across her chest, she continues. "These two are gathlain, a type of tiny fey creature with wooden wings and vines growing out of their body. And to think they tried to pass for an owl and albatross and fool yours truly," she bows. "Not. A. Chance!"
"But, um, what's this big sleeper? Is it like a super cozy pillow fort, 'cause I'm SOooOOo down for that!"
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"Well...they sorta got close...kind of," Corona responds thoughtfully, staring at the two gathlain. "They kinda look like an owl and an albatross might look if they were a painting that'd had water dripped on it."
"My New Friends already asked about the Big Sleeper, but what about the dogcat? He was a smarty-pants? How could you tell?" she continues, curious. "I've never seen a dogcat before...but mama did tell me stories about a catdog when I was little. Maybe they're the same thing?"
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The aggravating Albatross replies to Nixie, "The big sleeper's still upstairs. No, it's not like your friend's pony," the Albatross says, pointing at Mr. Collins. "You want to see her, you're on your own. We're too busy fishing. Hey, Owl, give me that scrap of a scroll you found! Plenty of other scrolls to choose from you greedy bastard!"
The obtuse Owl blinks at Corona, "The dogcat slipped down the stairs there. Slick as snail snot. Crafty and quiet." He squawks at the Albatross, "I said it's mine. End of story."
There are books and pages of parchment everywhere, floating on the floodwaters.
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Nixie suddenly splashes underwater, picking up magical scrolls. She glances around under the water, looking for an interesting looking non-magical one too. Maybe she can find one or two to offer to the bickering Gatlhlains to get them stop arguing.
”Look at all the pretty scrolls that I have! They’re almost as pretty as fish!” She holds them out, hoping to intrigue the Gathlains. ”I’d much rather have a full scroll than a scrap of paper...”
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What is it with that slip of paper? No use even trying to correct these two that Mr. Collins is a Boar.
“If you want to fish here, you really should use a net.” Lady Catherine tells the two creatures. “If you let me see what you have caught, I will show you how a net works!” As she says this, she holds up her own net.
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The two fey regard the coy Lady Catherine with feigned ignorance.
"Slip of paper? I have no idea what you're talking about," observes the Owl.
"A proper fey lady would show us hers, before asking us to show her ours," asserts the acerbic Albatross.
The gathlains giggle at their play on words. They might be convinced or tricked into showing you the parchment scrap or helping you in other ways.
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A gathlain? What on earth was that? She eyed the two creatures suspiciously before shaking her head. Well, they weren't doing anything wrong, right? They were just... kind of fishing in the library. Kaya giggled at the very idea. Still, they had to have a reason, right? Looking around, she notes that some of the scrolls appear to have some value, but before she can do anything, their Undine handles it, snagging bit by bit without so much as a single bubble.
"But does it make sense to ask that of a non-fey?" Kaya points out, flicking an ear. "And besides, if you make too much of a ruckus, you'll scare all of the catches away! Is that what you want? I thought you wanted to get some good ones!"
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“I’m neither fey nor proper,” Nixie laughs. “But I do believe in fair play, and I loved your fey play on words. So how do we want to ‘slip’ into this? A trade? A contest? An exchange of rhymes?” Then she pauses, enticingly. “Or perhaps I could show you something new? I can make water dance! Would you like to see?”
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The anxious Albatross addresses Kaya, "You remind me too much of the dogcat. Like him, you'll just leave us too. Like a tootsie roll in a flushing bowl, he swirled away below."
The obfuscating Owl scoffs at Nixie, "You've nothing we want, so nothing to trade."
Then, the two exchange a hopeful glance. The ogling Owl peers at the undine with playful excitement. "We fey love a good sport. In the First World, the challenger must accept the terms of the challenged. But you, dirty gills, may propose any challenge you'd like. It should make the contest interesting."
The avid Albatross looks disappointed at the Owl's suggestion. "I'm something of a comic and poet, though very few of your kind know it. The Nixie may contest, but as for the rest, if none protest, riddle us a rhyme in ribald jest!"
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"BooOOring!" Tiffany parks herself at the edge of the bookcase and dips her feet in. "Can't you just give us your paper already? We've kept you company, and we're not just a bunch of ordinary Pathfinders." She ruffles up her noble's coat, now thoroughly soaked through and more reminiscent of a drowned shag carpet, and walks the frogwalk. "I mean, check out this style! It might now be vile, but surely this rhyme kinda makes you wanna pass us the file," Tiffany says with a smile.
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"Oooh, Tiffany's right!" Corona frets as she looks around at the water. In her anxiety, she begins to flicker in and out of view - no, that doesn't seem quite right because when she vanishes, there's utter silence - no sound of breathing, no jangling of equipment, nothing. It's almost as if she's flickering in and out of being, ever so briefly.
"Games? We don't have the time! Not for Tiffany acting a mime or even just cornbread and conversation - no matter how sublime," she scolds.
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Nixie claps for the others, then she grins, hums a little tune, feeling the water come to life around her. Always changing, the water is.... Its ebb and flow like the breath of the sea. She spins, connecting with it for a moment, and then does a backflip, landing literally on the top of the water.
Then two backup dancers spring into being behind her as she takes a deep breath.
Into the library, where the waters seep
I’m Nixie of the Deep, going Deeper
Digging into the mystery of the Big Sleeper
So tell me, where should we start?
‘Cause you gotta know I’m not just a watery tart!
The backup dancers shake their hips as Nixie surfs around the Gathlains.
Let go, feel the flow, answer the beating of your heat
Standing in the swell where the waters dwell...
Is it fair or fell, under a spell? No honey, it’s art!
The dancers splash, rising and falling with the beat.
So you’re talkin scat ‘bout the dog-cat
Yeah.... what’s up with that?
But don’t you see, my buddies with me
Till this job’s done, together as one
A gorgeous scene, the gang in green
With a baker; a shaker; a prayer maker;
Kaya Yoshida, a rogue living the Vida
Loca; Two frogs willing to poke a
Hole in your discourse, leaving no recourse
For fools... Yeah they own the rhymin rules
Only one thing they do I don’t dig
And it’s bringin that scary pig!
Still surfing, she lets the waters fall, now standing on her feet on the ground once more.
Let the words combine, phrases fine...
Show me yours cause I sure showed mine!
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Ebonwolf claps excitedly at the performance of his compatriots. "I knew the group they was send'n me with was skilled. But they never said yal had talent." feeling s bit our paced in the talent department Ebon does what he knows best.
Releasing the strap on one of the mini-pony keg from his back he looks it over seeing his brand on the side, a combination of Torag's hammer and the frothing stein of clan Metalbender. Satisfied he offers it up saying "Nothin' bedder to enjoy such fine entertainment than to sip on a beautiful smooth glass of whisky. " offering up the goods he motions out with another hand waiting for the 'scrap' of paper.
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"Oh, woah," Kaya blinks, impressed. She'd gotten the impression that the people she'd be handling this venture with would be frankly fantastic, but she hadn't realized she'd be traveling with a full troupe of effective entertainers and, she hoped, effective fighters and dismantlers. She'd be a bit disappointed if they were disassembled at the first fight...
But anyone that could sing so well would undoubtedly be equally dedicated to other pursuits... Or Shaine wouldn't have let them down here.
She applauds. "Nixie, that was quite nice!" she exclaims, earnest.
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The Owl and the Albatross squeal in delight, clapping, and wiping tears from their damp eyes. They kiss the hands of "Princess" Tiffany and Corona. They toast the half-orc sommelier. They frown at the stern Lady Catherine, but heed her admonition, using their telekinetic powers to police up some of the loose papers scattered about the room. Finally, they fall to their knees in devoted supplication to Nixie.
"We offer you this token of our esteem, fair undine." The Owl hands Nixie the scrap of parchment.
"Please, oh please, take us with you, Nixie Attwater! We will organize your fey fan club, arrange tour dates, and handle your negotiations with suitable concert venues in all the First World! As avian fey, we are fluent in Twitter as well as Sylvan."
To sweeten their pitch to become the party's entourage, they enumerate other advantages to letting them tag along.
"Within the Archives, we can serve as translators and mediators with others of the fey."
"We can be your personal guides during your tour here. Consider it our audition!"
"When we find the dogcat, we'll introduce you. We're sure he'll want to get to know all of you."
"We'll take you upstairs to the scary Big Sleeper. But please, don't make her mad!"
As if on cue, another sporadic cascade of seawater spurts and gushes down from the mezzanine, just south of the staircase.
"Ready to dive downstairs?" asks the assertive Albatross.
"No, we should lead them upstairs!" offers the au-contraire Owl.
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Knowing full well that she couldn't possibly create a song half as cool as Nixie's, Tiffany applauds the performance. "You know, Nixie, if you're ever looking for a job, there's always room in my own personal entertainment staff, so do apply, yes?" She says with a stiff upper lip.
Her eyes scanning the soaked piece of parchment in Nixie's hand, Tiffany throws her hands up in frustration. "Another. Riddle. I don't. Get it!! BAH!" She looks at the staircase, pouting. "I need a nap. Let's hit the Big Sleeper!"
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”A fan club? I’ve never had a fey fan club before!” She pauses, considering. ”I don’t speak Sylvan. Or Twitter. Is that a bird language? We’d love to have you guys as guides! However, if I have to choose, it’ll be going up, right there by that lovely waterfall!” Nixie points in the direction of the waterfall that appears to be still cascading at full force from the Mezzanine.