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"We could split the book," Nikeisha suggested. "If no one has the knowledge, no one can make more wormies. It's not destroyed, so it's not gone. We can put it back together." She looked around. "And if we ever decide to burn it, it'll burn smoother in pieces anyway."
Quint's eyes are drawn once again to the various arcane foci. He's still not sure what they're for, but he can't shake the feeling that they're important. One in particular calls to him. It's an indigo-hued crystal so dark that it appears black until the light catches it, revealing constellations of reflective specks inside that look different when viewed through each of its twenty triangular facets. He picks it up and holds it to the light, momentarily transfixed.
The half-heard discussion of deception calls his attention back, and he idly rolls the faceted stone around among his fingers as he speaks up. How do we know who can be trusted, though? In my experience, authorities are the last people you should tell a secret to if you want it to stay a secret.
Jun sat in contemplation of what Honor would dictate in this situation. After reading the journal, it was clear that the research needed to be destroyed, but he knew that this research could be beneficial to smaller villages like this if they could somehow control the creatures.
Setting the book aside , Jun will meditate to tune out the others and focus on the demands of honor.
After meditating for several minutes, Jun will look around and ask "Did anyone find a chronometer?"
I'm not sure about the rest of ya, but if we are resting, then I am doing it outside of this hole, in the cabin above at least. We were sent to deal with a problem, and we did. That's what we can tell.
Hack moves to the ladder.
Who will join me above-ground?
"No, we can't just suppress the knowledge. Others who are smarter and more experienced than us need to know what happened here. Right now it was one relatively small incident in a fairly remote location. What if the next attempt is in the city? Using lions OR GOBLINS instead of worms? What if we keep the knowledge to ourselves and all die in some great adventure? We can NOT be the only people to know this, we MUST get the books elsewhere.
The Order is the obvious place to take these books. They'll know what to do with the knowledge. And they're basically good people, they can be trusted!"
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”This knowledge is dangerous. If we give it to the order, what would stop a mage from recreating it? Of improving it? As far as we can tell this is experimental, it isn’t common knowledge. If it dies with us, then no child will die from these creatures again. If we intentionally spread it, then it will be us who are responsible for the next generation of these creatures. Because, as you say, the order are “generally” good people. All it takes is one mage to take this knowledge and use it on goblins or lions. We can tell the order what happened and how to combat these beasts without showing them how to make more of these monsters.”
"Some humans can be real pieces of work, and some can be saints" Nikeisha commented, with few doubts into which side of the equation she fell. "Problem is, can be the same person. One horror too many can change someone. One moment of beauty. The problem with trusting a person today is you're trusting the slightly different person tomorrow, or the one ten years from now whose lost everything in a war and decides to open up a book that should be left closed."
Nikeisha shrugged a little. "Thankfully, most folk only pick up the tools they have. If someone wants revenge they're not too likely to spend the time working out mind eating super-worms when a knife or a tome to command the dead is easier to find. So yeah, people are smart, but the chances of this showing up again if we or the people who also know it don't put it out there is slim."
Glancing at the book, she added finally, "Every life that the magic in that book takes in the future rest on our shoulders. Every life lost if we destroy it when we needed it rests on them, too. Can't tell you all how to deal with that, or which way is best, but that's what this comes down to - do you sleep better knowing some died because you tried to keep a weapon from being used, or because you kept it just in case? And make no mistakes - that knowledge is a weapon, as is all knowledge with the right twist."
After having helped to make sure every last worm we could find was dead, Luna walks into the room and spends some time looking around the room, studying the different things we have come across. Any kind of book of any kind of knowledge is of interest to her. When she gets a chance she will also read the journal.
She quietly listens to the discussion the group is having and finally speaks up, "Yes, knowledge is power. Indeed, it can be used as a weapon, and just like any weapon it can be used for good or evil. It all depends on the wielder of that weapon. But this knowledge? I think this knowledge is evil. If there were some way to control it, perhaps it could be used for good. But seeing that it is all based off of some ... 'entity?' ... that appeared apparently at random? I see no good coming from this. At the very least this knowledge needs to be kept secret & I personally believe it should be destroyed since I can see no good coming from it."
"Now, as to what to do when we go back to town? We say nothing to anyone about this dead magic user & his chambers. We simply tell them we found & killed the mother worm & all her young ones that we could find. When we get out of this hole through this hunting cabin, then we try to find some local sheepherder or someone of simple means in the area & discreetly inquire as to who might own this cabin we 'happened-to-find' during our travels returning to town. If anyone asks why we are asking we can simply say that due to the proximity to the worm's lair we are concerned for their well being."
"Oh the information is horribly evil. But if we destroy it now or even hide it we risk understanding it. There is no telling if this reckless fool was the only one chasing this idea. We risk loosing insights that might stop something like this or something worse. Lets table the destruction talk till we know more about what's involved."
"As for where to sleep. I think down here might be safer than the cabin. We have know idea where the cabin is located, on who's land or who might visit it. Here at least we are 40 down in what apparently was a secret place seldom visited."
Luna seems to have the best plsn, and nay, Psalm. I will be sleepin' above ground tonight. The cabin is defensible.
Psalm shrugs. "I'm sure its defensible currently we are 40 feet under defensible close to an exit. But hey I have not plans on camping alone."
"I take that as a no then?" says Jun in response to his own question. "Since that is the case, we should just simply head into town and see if we can find anyone who owns a chronometer. They should be rare enough that a place like this one shouldn't have more than one, and once we discover who the person that has it is, we should be able discuss what to do with that person. Given what the deceased wrote in the journal, we know a few things about their ally or benefactor, if you will: It is a male, it is someone who is somewhat well known in town (since they can enter and leave town at will), and it is someone with power."
Jun again paces as he speaks, then says "I have asked this of the group I was previously with, but things have changed since then, and so I will ask again: can any of you sense the presence of magic, or can any of you cast the detect magic spell?"
Chronometer? You mean this thing? Quint slips the crystal into his pocket and produces the strange mechanical paperweight.
"I can if we take a few minutes." He looks up at Jun.
Jun sighs. "Well, that's disappointing, but I think we can still use it in our ruse: We can ask around town and see if anyone recognizes the owner, and then once we have pinpointed him we can rely on Psalm's ability to detect any magic on him while we return his timepiece."
Jun continues his pacing, this time switching his dialogue to laying out his plan:
"Recognizing what it is, he'll likely want to try and trick or kill us, and that is why when we go to speak to him we should only have a few of our number, with the rest waiting nearby for the signal. I have a minor magical spell that call allow communications at long distances, and I believe we can use this to signal our backup."
"I believe that we need a signal to let us know if he has magic on himself, and a second one if not. To keep things simple, I would suggest that you sneeze once for Magic, twice for no magic, and three times would be if he has magic items, but no spells on himself."
Jun stops pacing for a moment, then says "I believe that we should only have three people enter into his abode/establishment/location. I would like to be one, as I am adept at using words to my advantage; I need Psalm with me to inform me about any magic he has, and I would like one other person, just to be on the safe side."
"Of course" says Jun as he begins pacing again "All of this is predicated on the fact that someone will recognize that watch. Should no one know it's origin, then we'll need something else to fall back on; That being said, however, I would prefer to create a plan then follow through, changing it if needed, as opposed to worrying about 'maybes' or 'should have beens'. Then again" Jun continues "it's not just my life on the line here. So, what say the rest of you?"
"If its after we rest I can prepare it so it doesn't take as long to cast."
"Jun, I like your plan to some degree, but overall I would counsel against it. First of all, the moment he hears about us asking about this ... chronometer? ... thing? around town, he is going to know we have been in this room & that the secret is out. At that point he is most likely to flee and us none the wiser as to who he is. Secondly, the idea of a small group going in with a signal once we find whoever this person is, is a good idea, but your signal is too risky. What if someone should just happen to have to sneeze at that moment and not be able to control it? They will send the wrong signal. It needs to be a rare set of words, that would not be likely to come up accidentally, but that could still be blended in so as not to be outstanding. As to who else should be in that group, I could appear as a harmless person, carrying no weapons & wearing no armor."
What if we just have someone watch the cabin to see who shows, then use them to get to the true target?
"REST." Psalm looks at them each. "Once we have rested. We can leave the cabin get a look at things run the easy questions down. Like who owns the Cabin, has anyone heard of Grugiz, and then we can start pulling at the harder strings like whats with the Chronothingy. Peel the petals back. We'll be crying if we just get to cutting onions."
As the group makes camp in the comfort of the lodge. Psalm looks through the journal again. "WHOA." He stands up. He is still eye level with the table so he stands on the table. "Ahh guys. There is a reference here, 'He will have to give me a position at the tower'." He looks up.
"He has been here over a month. I don't think waiting for somebody to show up is a good idea.
So, I think that we all agree that we need a good nights rest. I agree that I'd prefer to do that aboveground. So, what about our going outside, getting a good nights rest, and sleep on what to do tomorrow? Sometimes less tired minds may make better decisions"
Quint considers the chronometer. How many people do you think there are who can make something like this? Maybe we should look for whoever made it, and get them to tell us who they made it for. We could act like we're in the market to buy one, rather than letting anyone know we already have this one. If we find the maker, we can get him to tell us who he made it for. That way, we can find out who it was made for before he knows we are looking for him. Quint would know that skilled craftsmen usually put an identifying mark on items they create, and looks for such a mark on the chronometer.
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As Psalm finishes speaking, Jun turns and says "Let me see that." then takes a look at the journal.
Jun then rereads the entire thing quickly, this time grabbing writing materials from the desk and making notes. After a few minutes filled with the sound of quill on paper, Jun will say "Here are the specific details that I could gleam from the journal about our mysterious benefactor, who after reading through the journal again is clearly not the contact in town. My original plan was flawed, because I misread that part.
There is someone who has a Goblin named Grugiz that is important enough to have his own bodyguard, which likely means he's a chief or main lackey to the chief.
This mention of 'The Tower' makes me think that given that the author is a mage, they're likely referring to The Order, so that means even offering them this knowledge is out.
Quint makes a good point; we should be looking into the chronometer from the creation end as well as the ownership end. Both will likely yield information, and following both means that we can get some overlap of information, which should help confirm or remove our working ideas.
So it sum up, we're likely dealing with a mage of some power who has a good working relationship with at least one Goblin tribe, and has knowledge of the maintenance of advanced mechanical devices. Given that he has a contact in as small a village as this one means that he likely has a rather large network of contacts in most settlements.
This means he's either a merchant or a noble, as the easiest way to get someone to work for you is to pay them well. I am going to operate under the assumption that he is a noble, as most mages tend to turn their nose at the noble art of mercantilism.
So, now we just need to find out which nation he's a noble of: I think we can rule out every major country except Byrthelm, mainly because he's likely human, which removes all of the non-human countries, so that just leaves Tindar, Byrthelm, and the Highland Realm.
I believe we can rule out Tindar, as a Tindaran would likely draw too much attention (although we can certainly check in town to see if there have been any Tindarans here recently); we can also rule out the Highlands, as they seem to have a rather peculiar dislike to magic, particularly arcane magic. That just leaves Byrthelm."
Jun pauses and realizes he has been talking non-stop for several minutes, then says "Do any of you happen to be members of the Arcane Order?"
Still in 'Thinking' mode, Jun will mention "After we resolve this issue, we'll have to deal with your 'owner' and his claim on you Gomdebo. It won't do to have you indentured when we have access to such knowledge."
After taking everything important, including Jun's copy of the vital research journal's notes. The group heads topside. Boddynuck grabs some of the produce and meat from Arthugh's supply pantry. Some of the vegetables were a bit wilty, and some had portions of early rot that needed paring, but the cold cave kept them in relatively good condition. The hunting cottage was fully equipped with utensils and pots, so Boddynuck put a fire in the stove and cooked a hearty and delicious stew. "That's a good sight better than dried rations." He says with a smile. After winding down, with Arthugh's journal being passed around a few more times for closer inspection, a few of the group roll dice to see who gets to sleep in the cabin's bed, after shaking the dust out of course.
After supper though, Quint sits next to Boddynuck and barrages him with questions about the language of spells in Arthugh's spellbook. Since Boddynuck was going to spend a bit of time examining the book anyway, he kindly explains as much as he can decipher to the extremely curious Quintavelxaq.
Before turning in himself, Psalm takes a bit of a walk around the outside of the cabin, and seeing that it is in a bit of disrepair, calls to one of the squirrels in the lower boughs of a nearby pine, asking it some simple questions about who it's seen coming and going, and how frequently. His answers fit with everything else the group knows. The squirrel says, "No hunters long time. Goblins, fat goblins."
As the night settles in, so does a brisk and bracing chill in the air. Midvale is too far south to have what the Elves call Nimrhîw, white winter, so there are no worries of being buried in snow, but Aldellion has definitely let the striders of the land know that summer is over, autumn is upon the world, and winter approaches.
After breaking their fast on more of Arthugh's left over stores, Boddynuck's trusty raven asks the question of the day. "Crawwwk! Where to?" He croaks.
Once in the cabin above, Quint pulls out his thieves' tools and finds a spot with sufficient light, then sets to work trying to open the chronometer, in hopes both of learning how it works and of finding a maker's mark inside.
Psalm rises early and raids the pantry to fix a good breakfast. While sharing the food , "Spoke to a squirrel. Only visitors seen has been fat goblins."
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Quint's dexterous fingers and history of undoing that which is not readily designed to be undone help him to carefully take apart the un-moving chronometer. With each cog and gear removed, Quint's appetite for such things increases all the more. His brain begins to puzzle out the whys and hows of each piece, building a model in his head of the completed whole and its inner workings. Quint can't help but smile when he finally pulls most of the chronometer apart and finds the mainspring at the heart of the "paperweight's" insides. Inscribed, quite clearly, on that mainspring, but only truly visible in full when it is wound tight, are the letters "A A" in a wonderfully garish script. A wonderful bit of working that, and quite suitable, since the chronometer will literally not work without the mainspring.
As he works, Quint considers this revelation that the Arcane Order might be behind what's going on here. No, he thinks someone within the order is behind this. They must be a traitor! If I'm instrumental in uncovering a traitor inside the order, they'll have to take notice of me. Then, when I say I want to join the academy, they'll have to let me, especially if I have already learned a few spells from Boddy.
As he removes each piece, Quint carefully sketches each piece on a sheet of paper retrieved from below, creating a diagram of where it goes, how it appears to work, and the sequence in which it was removed (so that he can reverse the process when he's done), then places it on top of its representation to ensure that he doesn't lose any of the tiny pieces. He had watched his father do this a hundred times when he was a boy, but never had the patience to do it himself. Nothing his father repaired was as intricate as this, and Quint was always sure that he could just remember how they went back together. Sometimes he was wrong, and couldn't remember the sequence to reassemble parts, but it was never hard to figure it out again.
This is different, he thinks, the intricacy of these pieces, and the way they fit together so perfectly... This is art, as much as it is engineering. As he inspects the maker's mark, he carefully copies its details onto the lower-right corner of the page, not realizing that this is exactly where an artist would sign his work. He is left with something that looks like a blueprint of the device, signed by its maker. With the right set of tools and enough skill in their use, the drawing has enough detail for a skilled craftsman to recreate the device. Of course, for all Quint knows, there may only be one such craftsman in all of Eafphqu, and Quint now has a copy of his mark with which to find him.
He then uses these instructions to reverse the process, trying to put the device back together and get it working (including figuring out how to wind it).
Once the device's tiny pieces are reassembled (and there is no longer a risk of losing them), Quint calls the others over to see what he's found.
Quint's mind and hands are obviously built for such things, perhaps watching his father for all those years affected him more than he realized. He puts the chronometer back together with an ease that belies his newness to the art form. Once he gets it all back together, and clicks the lid into place, the single hand begins to slowly click, click, click around the face of the device. Quint sits back and watches the chronometer click away, then at his drawing of the inside of the device, and smiles from ear to ear. There may not have been a lot of gold or gems down in that cave, but to him, this little device is worth more than both the rings and the necklace he swiped.
"Yes," Nikeisha agreed, "No one owns people. Now...take a rest and go looking for fat Goblins?"
"Yes," Nikeisha agreed, "No one owns people. Now...take a rest and go looking for fat Goblins?"
Quint likes the idea of taking on a foe that doesn't have preternatural senses that make it impossible for him to sneak up on them, for a change.
"Yes, it would be nice to battle with humanoids for a change of pace. You know, to really try something different." While Jun is clearly joking, he sais the entire thing in a sort of bored monologue, as if discussing a slightly interesting rainstorm in the supposedly sunny weather yesterday.
He then subtly winks at Nikesha, to indicate he was joking.
Gomdebo looks up from her breakfast, and says, "Yeah, goblins, love fighting them. Hate to be the realist, but there aren't any goblin tribes within a hundred miles of these plains. At least not organized ones. I'm afraid we might be dealing with "house" goblins. They're not terribly common, but they do exist throughout the Republic. Goblins make cheap servants; they have no idea about the real value of money. As long as you feed 'em, and give a nice place to sleep, and, maybe occasionally threaten 'em with the whip, they'll do just about anything." She takes another mouthful of Psalm's delicious hot meal, pausing for a moment, and then says. "O' course, goblin servants are rare enough, that that might be the best place to start our investigation. Ask around who in Midvale has goblin servants. Abyss, Gaukridotr's rich enough, and we ha'n't ever actually seen his manse. Maybe they're right under our noses?"
Psalm chats with the others over breakfast. "I was not aware that Goblin would make good 'servants'." He has difficulty hiding his contempt for the practice of slavery as he sees it.
"We spent a lot of time spinner our potential plans last night. Thinking on it this morning. The simplest leads are should get first crack. Whose land are we on, who owns all this. Humans like to keep close tabs on such things. Second who might have chubby goblin servants." He shrugs, [b]"It might do well for us to learn that and it might give us some leads. If they don't pan out we can poke the possible leads, like who might know about the windy dial thing and how it connects to the person in charge.
"Perhaps we should split up then, as we have a lot of ground to cover and the trails are getting cold. Let's start with this, though, is anyone really good at tracking?"