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The Dock District is always busy this time of year, and today is no different. People of all walks of life shuffle up and down the narrow streets while merchants, fishers, and traders hawk their wares to anyone passing by. The smell of the grungy river and the stench of those passing by fills your senses as you look down the side streets looking for “Captain Muesello’s Bait and Tackle”. You have walked for a quarter of an hour when you see the faded, peeling sign of the store down an almost abandoned side street.
As you walk through the door of the shop, a small bell’s ringing signals your arrival to anyone within the shop. The shop is surprisingly crowded considering its dull exterior; you count six others looking about the store, though none of them look like they work there. You find yourself looking around the shop when you hear a man’s voice call out from behind you.
”Hello there everyone!” You spin around to see who is behind you, and see a man with a pockmarked face smiling widely and holding his hands out in a welcoming gesture. ”You are right on time.” The man walks to the door of the shop, hangs a sign on the outside that reads “Gone fishing”, locks the door, and proceeds to close the window shutters as if closing the shop for the day. He then turns back to the group and says "Come, come. We have business to attend to.” He motions for you to join him, and walks through a low door towards the back of the shop.
You are lead into a backroom, where a woman is seated at a table by a small fireplace. As the last person enters, the man closes the door and motions towards the other chairs gathered around the table, ”Please. Sit. You have much to discuss.” As you take your seat, you recognize the woman as Lady Herdri Eshin, though she is wearing clothing far more mundane than usual.
”Thank you, Cruven.” Lady Eshin says to the man, and gives him a smile. The man nodes, and retreats to a plush armchair beside the fire. Herdri Eshin turns her attention to those of you sitting at the table. ”Thank you all for coming; I understand that my invitation was somewhat cryptic, however one can never be too careful at times like this.” As Herdri says this, she looks about the room at each person present, as if judging their character and inferring their allegiances. ”I am sure all of you have heard the rumors of late. Those rumors are false. They were started by the Free City Council in order to obscure the truth, as the truth is far more sinister, and would cause widespread panic. The truth is that it is not the Morgau who are amassing their forces, but the shadow fey.” At the mention of the shadow fey, she looks deep into the eyes of each present.
Long before man set foot on the land that is now Zobeck City, the fey ruled this area. However, an evil advisor to the king tricked the fey into performing a sacrificial ritual to Sarasota, the goddess of night, magic, and shadow. After the ritual, the fey were forever cursed to the Plane of Shadow where they were forced into servitude. This pact also link the hilltop, and the castle the would later rise upon it, to the Shadow Plane. Although the curse put upon the fey by the ritual granted them immense power, they were transformed into twisted versions of themselves called scáthesidhe, the shadow fey. Although the shadow fey keep mostly to the Plane of Shadow, they have been known at times to visit the Material Plane in small groups. Within recent years, overly ambitious merchants have started making expeditions into the Plane of Shadow in order to trade with the Shadow Fey, though few caravans have returned.
”The Free City Council needs your help. The Council has learned that members of the Arcane Collegium have been studying the Shadow Fey in secret for years. A contact of our’s has provided information that they are keeping all their findings in a secret archive beneath the College.” As Herdri speaks, she pulls a scroll tube with a broken wax seal from a bag sitting on the floor beside her. "Our contact has been able to secure us a few hours in the College’s rare books section during which we can pursue for whatever we wish, so long as we retrieve several documents of interest for our contact. That,” she punctuates by tapping the scroll tube on the table, ”is where things get interesting. Our contact has informed us that the entrance to the archive is hidden within this area.”
”Two hours is little time, so you must make the most of your time. I know it will be tempting to research other interests, but it would be selfish for the Council to think of itself when the Shadow Fey threaten to envelop Zobeck and beyond. I am sending you in with the express purpose of uncovering more information about the Shadow Fey.”
“Remember that you have permission to be in the academy’s library, but not in this secret archive, so do everything you can to avoid being noticed while exploring. In fact, the fewer clues you leave of your passage, the better. Specifically do not steal or destroy any of the library’s contents. A few slip-ups might alert the staff that someone has been poking around, and too many will give them enough evidence to trace this act to the Council.”
Lady Eshin begins pulling a couple of small parcels wrapped in cloth from the bag beside her. ”Any questions?”
As Cruven's clandestine conduct becomes more and more suspicious, Cassandra Cressen's concern climbs. Meeting the Lady Eshin, however, abates all of her anxieties. She sweeps her arm along the ground into a deep bow. This does not mean, however, that she trusts the woman implicitly. She observes Lady Eshin's behavior and notes her words carefully, seeking to ferret out any deception or attempts to obscure her true intention.
Regardless of her impression, she states:
"My Lady, I have many questions, but I will skip past those having to do with obtaining a Bag of Holding for the purpose of removing the entirety of the Collegium's Rare Book Section for my own perusal, and replacing them on the shelves with a semi-permanent illusion."
It is obvious Cassandra has dreamed of this course of action in the past. She continues:
"What specific information do we search for in reference to the scáthesidhe? Weaknesses? Rehabilitation? The initial banishment ritual?" The mention of the last one brings a visible twinkle to her eye. Her Librarian Lord would be most pleased should she uncover heretofore lost rituals of such great power!
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The dour looking priest leans forward, chin cradled between a thumb and finger. He almost winces as he begins to speak. "I'm not one to trust the arcane arts in their entirety, but... at this point, anything that could help us would be a godsend."
Cavasin looks around the group. "Now, I'm not one to partake in thuggery or skulking about in the wee hours of the night. But I'll help in any way I can, as any knowledge we can find about the scáthesidhe can only help in the coming struggles."
Lady Eshin, I must say you look particularly stunning today. This contact you speak of. Is is possible to reveal the identity so that we may know friend from foe in this endeavor?
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The kobold tries to maintain proper composure as he walks through the stink of bait and river muck. Once inside, he sprays a few puffs of cologne on himself before he straightens his cloak and sits down, straight-backed. There had best be a rear door through a more aromatic exit. I don't my humors could survive that stench a second time.
"I second the bespectacled, muscle-bound lady there. Better for us to know more specifics now, rather than return in two hours with the wrong information. My time is not to be wasted, as is yours I'm sure. Additionally I might ask what kind of guards they employ? A manned patrol? Constructed guardians? Perhaps more arcane protections?"
Magniventris turns to the other five in the room and speaks to no one in particular, "I know my reputation precedes me, but I am indeed the Prince Magniventris, Eighth of His Name, Loyal to the Exiled Wyrm. You may call me Your Majesty. What shall I call you?"
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With a delicate a careful smile, the half-elven woman robed in a fine satin dress and dripping with precious jewelry bows respectfully to their hostess, though she pauses before offering this well-spoken kobold the same level of honor, searching her prodigious memory for his credentials...
"I have the honor to be Tessara Silverfrond, of the Caliphas Silverfronds. It is my deepest pleasure to make your aquaintanceships."
Ruddy of both cheeks and nose,the rather wiry she-dwarf could have been easily mistaken for an unusually large halfling if not for her rather telling stout features.
She sat upon a stool to eye the proceedings and those present with a rather surly,disinterested air of someone who'd much rather be elsewhere.
The so-called Prince Magniventris she scoffed at,thumbing her upturned nose.Never heard o' ya. Specially not no royal slummin' it wit us commoners,much less softskins.
Considering the general attitude towards kobolds most civilized non-monstrous humanoids,anyways--she was being downright endearing. Then again,messing with the puffed-up lizard would prove some entertainment on this...whatever she'd gotten herself into.
Stifling a bubbling belch under her breath,the she-dwarf stammered out,I...I'm only here coz I owe a favor. Which you bet yer collective arses I'll see through,whatever I hafta to do. N-N-name's Steene Deepmug. Moonshiner.All you needs t' know.
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Cavasin sheepishly looks around the room. "My sincere apologies for my... poor decorum. I am unfamiliar with these lands, and I too should show you my proper respects."
He nods to the Lady Eshin, and to Prince Magniventris. "Your grace. Your... majesty." The priest rises from his chair and takes to bended knee. "My name is Cavasin Pendrith, and I am simply here to combat the darkness that encroaches upon us all. I prayed to the Lady, and she has led me here. I am... naught but a servant."
As the conversation progresses, you get the sense that Lady Eshin’s intentions are pure. However, you are surprised that a woman who is not part of the Free City Council has this much information about their plans. You start to wonder if she could be a member of the Praetors, Zobeck’s secret police.
"What specific information do we search for in reference to the scáthesidhe? Weaknesses? Rehabilitation? The initial banishment ritual?”
”Any information you can gather would be of use, although the plausibility of rehabilitation is doubtful. The Shadow Fey are far too vein to forgive us building on their land without a complete genocide.”
"Now, I'm not one to partake in thuggery or skulking about in the wee hours of the night. But I'll help in any way I can, as any knowledge we can find about the scáthesidhe can only help in the coming struggles.”
”I am glad to hear that. In fact, I would prefer if you all kept the thuggery to an absolute minimum. The last thing we need is the wrath of the Collegium at a time like this. However, I must implore that you keep your activities secret. Any trace could lead the Collegium straight to the Council; make sure the Collegium never finds out that you were in the secret archive.”
Lady Eshin, I must say you look particularly stunning today. This contact you speak of. Is is possible to reveal the identity so that we may know friend from foe in this endeavor?
Lady Eshin gives Vors a half smile and replies, ”Your flattery is appreciated, but it is best for everyone if my contact remains anonymous. Everyone in the college should be considered a friend, and no harm is to come to anyone, however you should also assume anyone will expose the operation if they discover you. It is unlikely my contact will risk helping you in any way.”
"I might ask what kind of guards they employ? A manned patrol? Constructed guardians? Perhaps more arcane protections?”
“If the archive istruly secret, then it’s unlikely that you will encounter many people. I imagine there might be traps, so be careful and resourceful. Most importantly, don’t get caught.”
Lady Eshin turns to the group again. ”Is there anything else?”
Steene raised her hand,wobbling on the tall stool. Aye...do we get paid?
She eyed the room and its occupants with an appraising eye, suddenly focusing.
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Lady Eshin leans back and smiles as Stenne posses her question. "I thought you might ask that, Stenne. The Council has put aside an appropriete amount, depending of course on the quality of your work. I am sure you will be more than pleased with your compensation."
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Magniventris bows cordially to Tessara and Cavasan, and any others that attempt to pray him proper respects. "Ah yes, the Silverfronds. A wonderful family. Their gardens' flora sparkle like diamonds in the moonlight, do they not? Ha, ha."
He turns to Stenne with a patronizing look and speaks to her in Dwarven.
Ah, how we fall into our old animosities so easily. Apsu forgive me for indulging in my baser instincts.
Vors politely introduces himself to each of the ladies. It is obvious to each that he truly appreciates the fairer of any race. When he gets to Stenne he pauses and smiles and says "That perfume. I do like it. Corn liquor?" He moves to the kobold "Prince Magniventris, it is an honor to meet you, your majesty. Vors Aman at your service." When he gets to Cavasin, he has a more serious expression. "Fine sir, your intentions are admirable. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am glad to have you at my side." He responds to Lady Eshin "People do not always prove to be as they appear. I was just being cautious and certainly understand the need for privacy. Traps are one of my specialties. I will do my best to protect these fine folk from that sort of damage."
To the kobold's comeback,in Dwarven,no less,the she-dwarf's head rocked back as she barked a laugh.Oh-ho-Ho! An alchemist,too?! Looks like we be in competition,then. Me brews an' beers versus whatever you got in them bottles an' vials.
She flashed a crooked smirk,truly amused. Nothing better than engaging with a worthy opponent rather some passive-aggressive craven.She flashed the contents of her bulging saddlebags around her middle,clearly winning in quantity while shooting the kobold a condescending leer.
You're gonna teach me sumthin,eh? Tough talk coming from a bipedal skink.
To Vors poorly veiled backhanded compliment,in Common,she winked and returned drily,Nah,it's thieves' vinegar. Want some?
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The Silverfronds are lesser nobility and not spread very widely, so it's unlikely he would have heard of them unless he's spent some time in Caliphas.
"You are too kind, your Majesty," Tessara replies to the kobold, smiling graciously and bowing to him in turn, though not quite as deeply as to Lady Eshin-- so as not to indirectly insult her honor by showing the same degree of respect to upstart nobility.
Turning to Herdri, she asks "My Lady, you mentioned that the entrance to the secret archive is hidden in the rare books section... but do you have any more details on exactly where it is hidden, or any subtle markers that we might use to identify it?"
Cassandra notes that none of the other contracted individuals address her directly. That was just fine by her: she was not comfortable in this world of titles, social nuance, and decorum. She could certainly emulate it from having read tomes of courtly manners, but being able to recall it at a moment's notice or make it seem natural was another manner entirely.
I'd much sooner like to be in the library than stand about with this lot... she thought, but I suppose it would do well to know the strengths of each member of our expedition.
"Friends and colleagues," she begins, "I am Cassandra Cressen, Inquisitor of the Empyreal Lord Winlas, Guardian of Grimoires, Librarian of Lore. My strengths lie in broad range of functions and specialties, as for damage I can heal as well as deal, and have a great amount of knowledge at my disposal.
I am honored to make your respective acquaintences, but should we not dispense with pleasantries and head to the meat of the matter? Lives are on the line. It is best not to dawdle."
"Traps are one of my specialties. I will do my best to protect these fine folk from that sort of damage."
"Excellent, Mr. Aman. My mentors had often stressed to me how 'the more important the knowledge, the more deadly the traps.' It will be invaluable to have your expertise at our disposal."
"My Lady, you mentioned that the entrance to the secret archive is hidden in the rare books section... but do you have any more details on exactly where it is hidden, or any subtle markers that we might use to identify it?"
"Indeed, this is a primary concern of mine as well."
Vors smiles at Stenne's response, he shakes his head and holds up a hand "You are too kind my lady. I doubt it would be as pleasant upon me as it is for you."
but should we not dispense with pleasantries and head to the meat of the matter? Lives are on the line. It is best not to dawdle.
"Yes, my lady. I am glad we took the time to make your acquaintance."
"Yes, my lady. I am glad we took the time to make your acquaintance."
Cassandra winces a little. She re-composes herself and quietly expounds, "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable with the being called 'your lady...' 'Cassandra' or 'Ms. Cressen' will suffice."
Vors apologizes. "Of course, my dear. I mean Ms. Cressen....Ms. Cressen." He makes some room for her (and him). He thinks That junk worked like a charm back home. "
He moves to Cavasin and whispers.
"Beware sir, I fear something foul may be afoot in these parts. I suspect the women may not appreciate the fact that they are women. Terrifying if true."
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"Prince Magniventris, it is an honor to meet you, your majesty. Vors Aman at your service."
"And an honor to meet you, good sir." Prince Magniventris bows in return.
Oh-ho-Ho! An alchemist,too?! Looks like we be in competition,then. Me brews an' beers versus whatever you got in them bottles an' vials. You're gonna teach me sumthin,eh? Tough talk coming from a bipedal skink.
He turns to Stenne and says, "And honor prevents me from weathering insults. I draw my lineage from dragons, good madam, not some belly-dragging reptile! Perhaps the first thing I should teach you is decency. Even a drunken dwarf who favors quantity over quality can surely learn that."
** spoiler omitted ** "You are too kind, your majesty."
He sighs and says to Tessara, "Personal experience tells me there can never be enough kindness in the world."
I am honored to make your respective acquaintences, but should we not dispense with pleasantries and head to the meat of the matter? Lives are on the line. It is best not to dawdle."
"Decisive action! Grand idea, Cassandra," he says, genuinely affected. He stands up to his full, towering height of 2'11".
Prince Magniventris looks around at the group and says to them, "And as for this need for secrecy, perhaps you shall refer to yours truly by one of your, what do you call them... nom de guerre? Pseudonym? I have none prepared for myself, of course."
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Cavasin looks to the side, barely containing a grin thanks to Vors's veiled comment.
He sheepishly looks to his boots, then back to the others.
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"My Lady, you mentioned that the entrance to the secret archive is hidden in the rare books section... but do you have any more details on exactly where it is hidden, or any subtle markers that we might use to identify it?"
Lady Eshin looks towards Tessara with a friendly grimace, "Unfortunately, that is where our contact was unable to provide any information too specific. However, he did mention that you would be able to find the entrance by studying honor, courage, and glory. Our circumstance did not allow my contact to explain any further."
"I am honored to make your respective acquaintences, but should we not dispense with pleasantries and head to the meat of the matter? Lives are on the line. It is best not to dawdle."
"I suppose you are right." Lady Eshin nods and hands the first cloth wrapped package towards Tessara. ”This contains a deck of illusions that I have modified; instead of each card creating a random creature, each one creates a copy of one of you. The illusions won’t interact with anyone, but they can pretend to be reading and deceive the casual observer. Each only lasts for two hours, though. Stick a card to the bottom of a chair to create the illusion, and don’t forget to remove the card when you’re done.”
She then takes the second package and hands it to Cavasin. ”This one contains some items to be used in case of emergency; a single potion of invisibility and a potion of pass without a trace. Do not hesitate to use them if the situation calls for it."
Lady Eshin then hands the scroll tube to Cassandra. ”Inside this scroll tube, you will find a formal request signed by Orlando, Guildmaster of the Arcane Collegium, to admit the bearers to the Arcane Collegium’s rare books collection. We are fortunate that our contact was able to procure it without creating too much suspicion.” She hesitates for a moment before adding, ”It also includes a letter from the Free City Council, signed by the Lord Mayor himself, with details of your mission . If you must, use this as a bargaining chip. Nearly anyone you meet will look at you more favorably if you surrender it, but doing so would certainly risk the city’s relationship with the Collegium. I’m giving it to you because I trust your discretion in the matter.”
Lastly, Lady Eshin takes a small stack of papers, six vials of ink, and six ink pens out of the bag sitting beside her and hands them out to everyone. ”You will also need these. As we want to leave no evidence behind, you must leave all the materials you find in their original location. Use this to write down as much information as you are able in the time you have.” Lady Eshin then sits back in her chair. "Tomorrow evening, the Arcane Collegium will host an extravagant orchestral performance in celebration of the Stross’s Fall. Such an event should last several hours, and if rumors are to be believed, the orchestra intends to play a complex medley of Zobeck's greatest songs. Several of these are rather dramatic at times, and the sound should drown out any noise you make. With any luck, the performance will also draw away most of the guards.”
"If there are no further questions…” Lady Eshin stands and smiles towards the group of you. ”Best of luck to you all. The city, and perhaps all of Midgard, are counting on you.”
As Lady Eshin stands, Cruven quickly puts down the cup of tea he had been sipping on, stands up, and walks towards the table. He clears his throat and says ”This way.” He leads you out of the back room and through the shop. ”The performance is scheduled to begin at sundown. Make sure you aren’t late, so that you have more time to complete your mission." Cruven opens the front door and lets you all pass through. Before closing the door, Cruven adds, ”Good luck.” then quietly shuts the door.
As you step back out onto the streets of Zobeck, the hustle and bustle of the city is beginning to quiet as the citizens of Zobeck retreat to their homes for dinner. The sun has begun to set, and a chill sits in the air. You quickly replay the events of the day in your head, and realize that you only have until tomorrow evening to prepare for your new mission.
As they exited the shop, she scanned the streets as she took her place in the midst of the group.
Happy to be getting along with this so-called mission like a bunch of pseudo Pathfinders, Stenne stumped along with her arms crossed and hands cupping the back of her head. Well,y'all can call me Moonshiner or Deepmug. Not like my standing among any other dwarves could get any worse. Me family's sorta considered...black sheep. Not exiles or slag,mind you, but close enough.
To the kobold,whom she bumped with a hip,she greeted,So,what's your deal,eh? Slu--*buurrp*--hanging out with with us softskins. Gotta bit o' wanderlust? Trying to lay low? How about we call you...Maggy?
She eagerly awaited his rely.
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Tessara would never stoop to eavesdropping at the door, but if her keen elven ears were to hear something by chance as she follows the group out...
"Perhaps you'll have the opportunity to increase your standing through this quest, Deepmug," Tessara suggests, smiling generously down at the rather crude dwarf. "If the scáthesidhe are indeed massing for war, I'm sure the time for secrecy will pass sooner than we'd all like. It is a great opportunity for nobles and smallfolk alike to serve the public good."
Turning to Cassandra, she speaks confidently, with the air of someone who takes pride and pleasure in her own eloquence, "Pray forgive me for not answering earlier, but there was much to be discussed with the Lady Eshin. I am an abjurer, as well as an able fencer and poet. My protective, divinatory, and illusory magics may be of some use to us; which is, I'm sure, why the Lady recruited me for the team. My family also maintains quite a respectful arcane library in Caliphas, so I am at home among the stacks... though, I am sure, not nearly so much as an expert like yourself," she adds politely.
Stenne considered the eleven woman's words,snorting out a laugh.Heh! True,that'll be interestin' if that happens. Not that I cared all that much to start with,mind you...
As the door closes. Vors kneels down to retie a boot. His ear is very close to the door.
He stands and approaches the prince. "I believe the term you are looking for your maj...pardon me. I believe the term is nick name. A wise decision on your royal part." Vors chuckles at himself realizing his unintended pun. "A nick-name is typically earned. How is George until such time?"
Good idea, not giving me anything valuable. I'd be the first one they'd search for anything important. Alas about the concert; they have a magnificent wind section.
Prince Magniventris attempts to walk more than an arm's length from Deepmug. "You're disgraced? Why, I never would have imagined," he says, trying to hide his smirk. "And that's Your Majesty to you, madam Deepmug. As for my purpose, travel and hardship are core tenets of Apsu, my deity. 'Every road leads to a new beginning,' and when I feel the temptation of a sedentary lifestyle, I must pick up myself and walk whatever road I find. I hope one day to see my draconic heritage fully manifest, though that is up to The Exiled Wyrm himself, may he fly forever."
At Vor's words, Prince Magniventris nods. "Nick name? How quaint. I much prefer any name you give me, Vors, than whatever rubbish madam Deepmug has. I'm sure it was an insult of some kind. George sounds like quite a handsome fellow. I'll take it."
These longshanks and their silly names. George? Isn't that a type of canyon? But, blend in I must.
Stenne barked out a laugh.Ah,Priceless...
...Actually, it was a shortened form of your name but George is perfectly fine,generic male name.she commented at the kobold prince's refusal of her suggestion.
She flipped her hair,chortling. And,correction,George I wasn't exiled. Just unpopular. Other dwarves don't take kindly to sharing brewing techniques with non-dwarves. Also, clan life tends to get stale. Thus, I do my own---uuuurp---thing.
Shortened? I'd say she was making a short joke, but she's a dwarf herself. Perhaps she meant it as, I shudder at the thought, a compliment?
"George" turns to Deepmug and says, with genuine compassion, "I can understand one's own kind looking down on one's self for 'doing your own thing,' as you say. Not many kobolds appreciate how my family is living in the world."
Prince Magniventris tries to, nonchalantly, waft some of his cologne in the direction of Deepmug's mouth.
Vors addresses Cassandra Cressen "My-m-m-m-Ms. Cressen, I had the inopportune need to tie a bootlace just as the door was closed and just so happened to overhear a conversation behind said door. I am sure there is no truth to it, but they suspect your abilities may be insufficient in this endeavor. You seem to be quite qualified for just about anything as far as I can discern. How can that be? Will your tasks in this endeavor be so daunting?"
Due to her strong resistance to various odors and scents,Stenne didn't so much as blink at the intentional waft of what the kobold considered suitable colone.
Musky,earthy, with an acrid hint of freshly cut onion. Befitting a creature with scales,she guessed.Still,better than any goblinoid she'd run across.
Uh,interesting choice for cologne. Made it yourself,I take it? I know an gnome who specialized in perfumes and the like.
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"My-m-m-m-Ms. Cressen, I had the inopportune need to tie a bootlace just as the door was closed and just so happened to overhear a conversation behind said door. I am sure there is no truth to it, but they suspect your abilities may be insufficient in this endeavor. You seem to be quite qualified for just about anything as far as I can discern. How can that be? Will your tasks in this endeavor be so daunting?"
Is this man so truly transparent? Cassandra thought. I may need glasses, but I'm certainly not deaf!
She turns to Vors, a somewhat terrifying smile on her face. Cassandra is not to be trifled with in such a manner.
"Indeed you're right: I am qualified for most anything, Mr. Aman. My especially keen ears, for example, allow me to ferret out all manner of useful information. So keen are they, that I happened to hear the exact statement you describe, but I fear your ears must have failed you: You were included in that statement, as was everyone else here.
Mr. Musello's sentiment does not surprise me in the least: we are a group of strangers brought together to perform a highly important and dangerous task. We've each been chosen for our specific skills, but those skills are useless if we cannot work together. Most groups of what the histories call 'Adventurers' die horrible and painful deaths within the first few days of their 'Quests.' It is only through luck, and teamwork that any survive at all."
She takes off her glasses, without breaking eye contact with Aman, and begins polishing them. She does so slowly and methodically as her speech unfolds:
"In that vein, Mr. Aman, I'd caution you against deceiving me, especially under the guise of flattery. You seem to be a man of roguish persuasion, which I mean in the nicest way possible, and most likely have never met someone like me. I don't fault you for it. Not many young women are encouraged as I was to bury themselves in their love for knowledge, throwing society's expectations to the wind.
I fear I ramble, however. My point is this: I am here to perform a duty to my Sovereign Celestial Lord. The opinions of others as to my fitness, looks, or "prospects" (as an uncle of mine once called them) are not something I concern myself with. I bear you no ill will, but that may change should behavior such as this continue."
As the evening turns to night, you return home in order to rest, and prepare for tomorrow.
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The next evening, approximately a half hour before sundown, you meet the rest of your party in the Arcane Square, just outside of the Collegium. The square itself is packed full of people. Commoners, nobility, and everyone else has showed up to view the spectacle. Slowly, the crowd drifts in the direction of the Arcane Collegium. The smell of cologne and sweat pervades the air, and the murmur of a thousand excited voices fills your ears. The town is alive with excitement for the beginning of the festival of Stross' Fall.
Together, you follow the flow of the crowd towards the Collegium. You pass below the Steam Gate and into the cobblestone street of the Collegium itself. Within the complex of the Collegium, the event becomes even more amazing. Apprentices and masters alike give brilliant performances of their arcane crafts; you walk past clockwork mages tinkering at a new gearforged body, and Illusionists creating dazzling spectacles of lights and sounds. Ushers are positioned at every intersection, pointing guests towards their destination. No expense has been spared for this event.
Suddenly, you realize that the current of the crowd is moving you towards the concert hall. Your mission awaits in the library.
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Cavasin catches the tail-end of the conversation betweeen Vors and Cassandra. He nods respectfully towards the two. "Madam Cressen. Mr. Aman." The priest smiles, pulling the hood of his oilskin cloak up over his head.
"I suspect we'll have no problems on any battlefield if we unleash such fury and wrath like that." he says, clapping Vors on the shoulder while retiring for the night to his modest room at the local inn.
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Despite the dazzling wonder of the shows, Tessara is distracted as she's carried along by the crowd, thinking of everything that might go wrong with their mission and running through the spells she studied in her spellbook this morning...
Cantrips: detect magic, read magic, mage hand
Lv1: hold portal, comprehend languages, blend
Resist sonic 5
Suddenly, you realize that the current of the crowd is moving you towards the concert hall. Your mission awaits in the library.
"Ah!" Tessara jolts out of her reverie, quickly looking around and pushing through the crowd to draw close to her companions again. "Friends, this way," she says in a stage whisper, urging the others back towards the library and trying not to draw too much attention despite the volume of the chattering crowd.
Vors just stares at Ms. Cressen doing his best to take it all in. Cavasin's slap to the shoulder bring's him out of it. "No doubt." he replies. He hears Tessara's call to duty. He chooses his next words very carefully. "This way, Ms. Cressen." He keeps an eye on Tessara as he moves in her direction through the crowd.
Stenne,who more or less slept in taverns on her travels,yawned and belched as she trundled through the crowd. She even sold a few bottles of liquor to patrons tired of the watered down still the barkeep kept serving,gaining some profits for the day.
She made sure to keep both eyes and ears open. One never knew,afterall.
Really? As if I can't tell which way to go?
Cassandra rolls her eyes and reluctantly follows suit, knowing that there's no point in further remanding him.
She stays alert, looking to see if anyone is noting their deviation from the crowd.
The night before, he tells Deepmug, "Oh I dabble in perfumes and colognes, but I find my elixirs are better suited to harm than to soothe. I have a gnome of my own I buy from." He returns to his luxurious rooms for the night, taking his time, knowing he has all day tomorrow to do as he pleases.
The next day Prince Magniventris relishes the excitement the town feels in preparation for the evening's celebration. That evening, he finds himself at home in the crowd, socializing with anyone willing to, adding his own scent of cologne and confidence to the air.
Caught up in the spectacle, he finds himself swayed to the concert hall, thoughts filled with violins and cellos before Tessara's hushed "Friends, this way," snaps him back into focus.
"Yes, yes, of course." he says, trying to recover.
Vors begins paying attention to his surroundings, looking for anything or anyone out of the ordinary.
As they move closer to the library he bravely speaks again to his new best friend, still keeping his eyes on Tessara. He speaks softly and looks for any eavesdroppers. "We head for a library. This is your specialty, I believe. I am sure it will be no surprise to you that I have spent little time in these environs. I understand that one should be quite and not speak. Also, I would think a group would be unusual and may look suspicious. I will stay by you so as to observe the proper etiquette. We would appear to be the average couple to the untrained eye. Have you any advice?"
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Cavasin again smirks and shakes his head. This Aman chap, he just doesn't know when, does he? At the very least, this journey of ours will at least be entertaining.
The priest takes care to keep with the rest of the group, lest he gets caught in the flow of bodies and swept away. At least we have a destination to muster at, if any one of us gets separated from the pack.
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Having been to the Collegium a few times before, Tessara confidently leads the group in the direction of the library. You walk through the courtyard between the buildings of the Collegium, pushing your way against the flow of the crowd, but those around you seem too caught up in the excitement to take much notice.
As you enter the building on the east side of the courtyard, you walk past an usher who smiles, and nodes as you pass. The corridors of the east building are well lit, and the dark wooden floor boards creek as you walk along. Each door within the building is marked with a brass numbered placard. Tessara leads you up two flights of stairs, up to the top floor of the building with windows overlooking the courtyard below. You notice the crowd has begun to thin when suddenly, echoing through the halls as if the sound is emerging from all around you, you hear what sounds like the pulling of a bowstring on a violin. As a few other instruments join the first, you realize the concert is about to begin. You don't have much time.
Luckily, just three doors down, you notice a large set of double doors with a placard that reads Grand Library. Relieved, you enter the room.
The room is smaller than you had imagined. The dim lit room is filled with sets of tables and chairs, and lined with bookshelves. The smell of old books mixes with dust and floor polish fills the room. The eastern most wall features an ornate fireplace with a low burning fire that crackles periodically. As the doors close behind you, you can still hear the music through the doors. Along the northern wall, near the east corner of the room, another set of elaborately carved walnut doors hang closed. The library is completely deserted except for one man sitting at a nearby table studying a book.
As the door shuts closed behind you, the man looks up from his reading. "Oh! Hello. I wasn't expecting anyone considering the festivities." He rises out of his chair and approaches the group. "Please excuse my absent-mindedness. Can I be of any service to you?"