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"Greetings and peace to you, fellow Pathfinders," a human female says to the group, bringing her closed right fist to her open left hand and bowing from her waist. She wears light brown and white monk robes - loose fitting to allow maximum movement and yet covering almost all of her young body. She carries several javelins in a large sheath on her back, and two pair of wooden rods connected by a thin cord but no other weapons. She is a young human female - barely into adulthood. And yet there is a sense of purpose, or perhaps destiny, about her, in her serious manner and formal language. "I am Adrianna Na'lin, a student of the art of combat. I am honored to join this expedition."
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A lithe, white-haired elf joins the group as well. His bright green eyes belie a sharp intellect, but his gaze keeps falling to the ground. He carries himself as a warrior - and, in fact, carries a longsword and a magnificent darkwood bow - but wears no armor. "M-my n-name is C-C-Castien G-Galondiir. M-my b-blade and b-bow are at y-your s-s-service."
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The lithe cat-woman in the black leather bodysuit finishes juggling the small blades for the gathered crowd - a quick flourish as she sends them hurling one by one at a nearby target "...and that, children, is how to play with knives!" she jests for the crowd. She packs up the various balls, coins, cards and other sundries that she uses for her routine, lastly picking up the hefty looking crossbow she used for the finale (before the second encore). She gives a quick wink and a nod to the pickpockets that were also working the same audience as she heads to the Grand Lodge.
She enters the room and sits herself down in a nice corner, her tail coiling around her waist, her downy skin bearing a clear tiger mottling.
"Scarlet - jongleur, cat burglar" she purrs softly.
Other than the crossbow dumped on her bag at the door, she appears to be unarmed.
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In the tidy office of the Lodge stands a tall but lean man dressed in black cloth covering an armor. He hobbles along slowly, one of his leg seemingly stiff, unable to bend the knee. A grim look and furry eyebrows adorn his face, as well as a goatee and long black uncombed hair. As he limps after the other Pathfinders, he leans on a longspear serving him as a makeshift walking stick. A scraggy black wolf walks alongside him. It is hard to say which one - of the master or the beast - is more famished and prone to lunge at someone's throat. Yet an aura of mystery and fascination surrounds this man, who simply introduces himself with a raspy voice.
"I am Skarn, and this is Fianna." he says, patting the wolf.
If it isn't Kreighton Shane. He's summoned this fine group of adventurers to a place called 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 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.”
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Skarn respectfully bows his head to the Paracountess, and seeks to discuss privately with her. The Jadwiga holds his chin high as he speak. Maybe what's left of a highborn education that cannot be suppressed despite his best efforts?
Martha indeed has something to say to Skarn, but she waits for a moment of opportunity, trying to also involve Rasamoro:
“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.”
Virml relates to what happened, Getting in wasn't hard at all, I just snuck off into the archives. In there... 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!
Moving through the double doors into the library, the group looks at a flooded room.
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.
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.
Periodically, a gush of water flow down from the spiral staircase above.
A foating bookcase houses two strange creature: small creatures, one with bat-like, the other with feathery wings. One with the head of an owl, the other one of an albatros. Shoo! Shoo! the albatross shouts. Yoohoo! Boohoo! You are scaring the fish, go away. This is our bestest fishing spot!
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Skarn moves inside the room, keeping his wolf from acting wildly, but otherwise tries not to make any sudden moves. He tries to befriend both creatures by whispering not to scare the "fish".
"Greetings, we'll be away in a minute but before we do, we need precious information you might give us, if you agree. We're looking for the source of this floor, can you give us directions? Oh, very nice fishing spot by the way."
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A late arrival splashes through the water, a nagaji dressed in scale mail, with greatsword on his back. "Hope you all saved some mystery for me." he says in a low voice.
To the creatures, he says, "As he said, we will be away momentarily. The faster you are to answer, the faster we will let you get back to your...fish."
Yea, until you came along! And this albatross here is catching all the fish. I'm behind! the Owl says
Shh, silent you! Or the big sleeper will eat us. I don't want to get eaten! the Albatross responds.
The big sleeper! We were in the belly of it, a terrifying journey. Dark and damp. But we managed to get out, didn't we? the Owl again.
And grab the bestest fishing spot.
Yes, says the owl, and I need to catch more fish to win the scroll! He's catching all the fish.
You agreed to the contest. Whoever catches most fish, wins the scroll.
Yeah, the scroll that the smarty pants dog-cat left, so shoo!
Yea, shoo!
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The cat lady turns to the party quietly "So we are looking for the source of the problems, but if anyone else has any pressing matters that may arise or items of personal business to attend to... just ask. I haven't worked with any of you before, so I don't know what your methods are, but I have a very Varisian view of things. Best you warn me before anyones toes get stepped on. Discretion assured - likewise if I ever ask of you to do the same or offer assistance, I would be happy if you return the favour."
Scarlet moves with Adrianna to check the next point of interest,
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Rasamoro was distracted first: so many items of knowledge to investigate, but so many time and they might be ruined with the water. First, he paid no attention to the small creatures, but when they mentioned scroll, he got an idea.
"Hey, fellows! I don't know your names, but I am Rasamoro. I have couple scrolls here so we can arrange an exchange, you give me your scroll and I give you one each! How is it? Does it sounds like a deal?"
He wiped his hand dry and then reached scroll case outside of his backpack and got a corner of scroll peaking out to show, he is not joking.
The big sleeper! Yes! the albatross says
-Shush! the owl responds I don't want to get eaten!
Yes, shush! the albatross says silently.
-The big sleeper, she's upstairs, the owl again.
Yes, up the staircase, up, up. The albatross beak is in the air
-Just trace the water... the owl makes a flapping movement with his wings
The cat, he asks. The cat like a dog!
-He splashed down into the fishin’ hole, scarin’ away the bestest fish!
Stupid dog! Stupid cat!
-The scroll, it is my price!
No, it is mine!
-But a scroll for two, is one for each.
Yes, but does his scroll contain as fine a riddle as this one?
"A scroll? So a magical trap then, not a mechanical one" she looks a bit disappointed "A handsome man?" she puzzles.
Virml 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.
No, no, a deal is a deal.
-Yes, one scroll for two! the albatross says, as he hands the scroll to Rasamoro.
Or else shame on you!
-Shush! We don't want to be eaten...
Splosh! A wave of water washes over Adrianna. From up above the metal staircase, some kind of flapping can be heard.
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"This is all well and good, but we should try to find the source of the problem. Let's move onwards."
Skarn casts mage armor on Fianna before moving on.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Before moving on, the pathfinders find several magical scrolls floating around: a scroll of comprehend languages, a scroll of bull's strength and a scroll of daylight.
The staircase rises to a wooden floor 10 feet above the flooded archives, and which overlooks it. The floor is drenched, and in the middle lies a large, four-eyed fish, with tentacles that drip water.
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Skarn offers the magical scrolls to Bone, then climbs the stairs. Seeing the strange fish, he also tries the diplomatic way first, fighting second approach.
"Uhhm... we come in peace?" he tries, unsure of the result.
Fianna licks her master's hand, meaning that she'd like to play with the giant fish.
OoooOoooOOOoooOO()()oo() The fish screams, in aquan.
From below, a squabbling can be heard. Shush! The big sleeper!
She asks who these men are! She will probably eat them.
Better them than us...