It is late evening in the large, old dormitory reserved for fledgling pathfinder society members and those yet preparing to make their Confirmations.
The dormitory is the sort you might expect at any old university, with rooms for students (most-often shared), and common spaces, creaking floorboards, and old portraits of past faculty members. The dormitory is mostly empty this time of year and so the place has a sort of lonely, hollow feel to it.
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Dawn still isn't used to city life. Foremother warned her. Still, some of her fellow Pathfinders suggested a trip to the Grand Lodge, and it might make some funny jokes, too.
During her trip, she made sure to crack a lot of dumb jokes, hold onto her coin purse (literally) and talk to as many people as she could about animals. She knew a lot about them but never got to train them.
In the Grand Lodge she learned a lot about the Natural World. Where Foremother came from before creating the Commune her biological parents settled down in. Where animals roam relatively free. All of this court stuff was confusing though. More joke material!
How do people sleep surrounded with all that brick, anyway?
The nighttime breeze kept her cool as she rested with her back against a tree in the Grand Lodge gardens. It blew some of the leaves and flower petals she stuck in her hair during the day, but that is life.
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It had been a typical day for Vina. When not scouring the Grand Lodge's libraries, she had most often been seen outdoors in the nearby gardens, devouring a borrowed book while strangely speaking to a young 8-foot tall oak tree...
However, despite her upbringing in the hot jungles of Jalmeray, there was a certain stickiness to today's heat she didn't care for, and when Lakadee decided to uproot himself to seek shade, Vina took the hint the natural world had been trying to give her for the last four hours and followed the treant sapling; later, well past the evening and into the wee hours of the next day, she decided the night breeze insufficient to fully take the heat out of her fur's undercoat and thus she sought the cool stones of the Grand Lodge. The tree followed her without hesitation.
On her way in, Vina had spotted Dawn Verda. Recently arrived at the Grand Lodge as well, the elven female seemed to share Vina's love for the gardens. However the similarities appeared to end there: whereas Vina was secretive and shy, Dawn was outgoing, with gales of laughter always erupting from her mouth. The woman was known for her pranks as well- and Vina did not wish to attract undue attention from the fey-like elf.
For these reasons, among many, Vina simply nodded to Dawn on her way in at this late hour, and waved Lakadee to lean so as to avoid defoliation by door-frame.
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Razka normally would not come to the Grand Lodge unless he was bored or requested. Today, he'd come because he had a contact who could get something for him. He'd adjusted his new bracers, feeling like a warrior as he let his fingertips play over the shield shaped sigils carved into the leather.
His contact was one of those individuals who proved that the Pathfinders needed to be a little more strict about who they allowed into their organization. Under normal circumstances, Razka would not have mingled with his type...unless he was looking for seedier forms of entertainment.
As it was, they met in the stacks of the library, his contact passing over a wand etched with flame motifs and Razka passing over a sheaf of papers his contact could use...for what, Razka did not ask.
He was hurrying out of the library, afraid all the studiousness might wear off on him when one of the librarians caught his attention. Demure, quiet, she was still alluring and he decided to chance some boredom for some excitement.
Straightening his garments and plucking away some lint that wasn't there, he made his approach. A quick introduction, a little small talk, a hint about his status as a displaced noble, an offer to help with reshelving and an admittedly crude joke that focused on a pun for when he was off-duty and he left the library and lodge in her company.
Hours of literal wining and dining later and they were returning with the express purpose of her showing him her collection of broken figurines of wondrous power and his intention to show her his wand.
She was loud and giggling while he remained carefully controlled and jovial, a difference in experience with the inebriating intoxicants they'd indulged in.
Coming back through the gardens, he flashed Dawn a smile carefully timed so that his companion wouldn't see it then he and his companion, using each other for support, waited for a tree to go into the building...
Razka wondered if he should think that was weird...
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Razka was not one for long silences. They gave people, including himself, time to think and most things didn't bear thinking about.
He grew visibly uncomfortable as the ambulatory tree stared at him but waited until it was moving again before breaking the tension.
"You remind me of someone, Milord Tree...is there a talking racoon I should be looking for?" he quips.
His contact was one of those individuals who proved that the Pathfinders needed to be a little more strict about who they allowed into their organization. Under normal circumstances, Razka would not have mingled with his type...unless he was looking for seedier forms of entertainment....
Edwin recently returned from Belkzen where he fought against evil.
A tall man stands proudly in his shiny armor holding his longsword.
"Greetings good sir! My name is Edwin, Edwin Towerfall. I am glad to serve you!"
The Lodge gardener looks up from pondering a turned-up patch of earth where it looks like something big was uprooted. He stares blankly at the energetic paladin before taking a cautious look around.
"Err, oh-kay." he says in a thick brogue. "Uh, roi, grab dat spade. See dis patch av earth 'ere? Dat tells me we 'av a serious pest problem on de grounds. Sos Oi nade yer ter fend an' kill al' de golphers."
"There you are! I've been here all afternoon, waiting for you! Where have you been?" says a young woman at a table surrounded by books, to another woman just arriving with an owl perched on her shoulder.
"Do you want the truth or a pretty lie?"
"I am a senior squire 3rd-class paladin of Shelyn what do you think?" says the girl at the table. She's about sixteen and her voice comes out sulkily.
"I was buffing the wondrous figurines."
"Again? That's like the third time this week. How dirty can they get."
"Pretty dirty as it turns out." the second woman says slyly. She's older than the other by about five or six years, and where the girl at the table is fair-skinned hers is dark like ebon mahogany.
The owl on her shoulder rolls its eyes, and turns its head away from the scene.
"Yeah, but you were supposed to be helping me with my report. Remember?"
"Hey, stuff comes up, and when it does sometimes you have to jump on it. Anyway how far have you gotten?"
Suddenly, there's a noise like *SPLASH!*
The owl, alerted, looks around.
"Did you hear that?" says the owl's owner.
And then all hell breaks loose.
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Dawn comes out of her dazed state, aware and awake. "What did I miss?" She checks on her falchion, still by her side. "The night sky is looking good."
She got up and walked over to Razka and his friend. "Welcome to the gardens. It's a beautiful night, eh? Great time for a walk- just make sure you don't kick a Brownie by accident. I did that in the Commune once and they called me Cloudface for a year. I called them Dirtheads in retaliation. One of them created a tiny cloud over me and rained on me one day. I was so embarrassed!"
Dawn pantomimes getting splashed on, with a clear not in the face! Not in the face! impression.
"Anyway, I'm hungry and I'm forbidden from eating the food in the garden. I'll see if the kitchen has something useful."
It's late, like real late. Late enough that most of this slice of the world is in bed asleep--even in the great metropolis at the center of the world, Absalom.
Vina would be doing late night reading somewhere that has cool stones. Lakadee would be nearby, preferably toeing a root into a rainwater barrel.
Each character is awoken by a flurry of knocks at their door, or in Dawn's case by an owl that lands roughly in her hair.
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Vina awakes as someone knocks on a window overlooking the patio.
The human girl in the window is dressed in blue and white with a breastplate of silver. Her eyes grow big and her mouth turns into a little "O" as she looks through the window at the Vanaran druid. Vina can read the girl's lips--'SOOOO CUTE!'
Once the window is open she says: "Can I rub your belly!? Oh, and there's an emergency! The Master of Scrolls wants every available agent to report to him immediately!"
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Dawn dreams of chowing down on the world's biggest, juiciest mushroom ever when her mouth is full of feathers. She's wakes up as an owl hoots at her.
"Who? I'm Dawn. Who is on first base? Watch the scalp with those talons" Once Dawn is awake she doesn't move her head much and waits for the owl to make the next move.
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"It wasn't me. I didn't do it. Nothing! Where were YOU?" Razka says as he jerks awake.
He looks around. He wakes up in unfamiliar rooms often enough that he would be more surprised if he was someplace he expected to be. It only took him a few moments to remember where he was.
His companion is in no state to answer the door, so it is up to him to do it. It's times like this that he misses having servants. Stubbing his toe on a book as he crosses the room he is cursing rather eloquently when he opens the door. And he grew up in Cheliax so he curses with authority.
"What?" he demands, blinking bleary eyed at the person on the other side of the door.
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"It wasn't me. I didn't do it. Nothing! Where were YOU?" Razka says as he jerks awake.
He looks around. He wakes up in unfamiliar rooms often enough that he would be more surprised if he was someplace he expected to be. It only took him a few moments to remember where he was.
His companion is in no state to answer the door, so it is up to him to do it. It's times like this that he misses having servants. Stubbing his toe on a book as he crosses the room he is cursing rather eloquently when he opens the door. And he grew up in Cheliax so he curses with authority.
"What?" he demands, blinking bleary eyed at the person on the other side of the door.
It's the young librarian from day before. She doesn't look giggly anymore. She looks flustered "Oh hey, I didn't know you were staying here. There's a sort of general alarm."
Her eyes focus on the bed and its occupant. "Who's that?"
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Vina and Lakadee immediately follow Apollyanna to the scene.
"We have a few stops to make first. Tell your friend we're about to make like a tree and move."
Leaping from his bunk at the sound, Bob instinctively grabs his musket. Pointing it at the door, he cries out "Fei-oo! Who go dere?!"
"Whatcha want?! Be quick, lest I corpsify ya!"
The door swings open but only a girl's voice comes in.
"Whoa! Is that a gun? Sometimes it sucks being a member of the Core. We never get the cool classes. Anyway-" the girl says moving into the doorway under a lacy white handkerchief, "there's an emergency and you-you should really put on some trousers."
The girl closes the door. To Vina her face looks redder than a mandrill's.
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"Whoa! Is that a gun? Sometimes it sucks being a member of the Core. We never get the cool classes. Anyway-" the girl says moving into the doorway under a lacy white handkerchief, "there's an emergency and you-you should really put on some trousers."
Glancing down, he offers a mischievous smile. "Aye, tis a gun. Dontcha worry lass. That one aint been loaded yet this day. Me rifles whatcha outta worry 'bout."
Winking, he stands and retrieves his clothes, quickly dressing and heads out into the hall. Stopping short, he blushes. "Dun supposen we's gonna need me gear 'eh? Being pathfinders business an such...guessin we's goin ter a shindig?"
Rushing back into the room, he returns moments later with his supplies. "So's, whys we gettin up so awful early? Why ya all fired up an such?"
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Glancing down, he offers a mischievous smile. "Aye, tis a gun. Dontcha worry lass. That one aint been loaded yet this day. Me rifles whatcha outta worry 'bout.""Whoa! Is that a gun? Sometimes it sucks being a member of the Core. We never get the cool classes. Anyway-" the girl says moving into the doorway under a lacy white handkerchief, "there's an emergency and you-you should really put on some trousers."
"Yeah well I've got some serious wood out here in the hall with me" she says with a worried nod toward the 8-foot-tall Lakadee, I hope can the floorboards handle that much weight--"so if we could get a move on."
Rushing back into the room, he returns moments later with his supplies. "So's, whys we gettin up so awful early? Why ya all fired up an such?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story. I was working on this report about the importance of friendship and ponies in the one of the libraries when- You know, I should start at the beginning. I'm Apollyanna, and I joined the Shelyn Scouts a couple of years back. I remember it like it was yesterday...."
Bob and Vina can hear the mental harp music, as the long story begins.
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Razka glances over his shoulder. Then flashes the librarian a winning smile. "Oh, just a friend. No one for you to worry about," he replies to her question.
"Let me get my stuff. If there's a general alarm, I assume it's not because the kitchen is running out of basil."
It takes only a few seconds for him to get his clothes on, though he slips the bandolier with his wands over his head and across his chest and puts on his bracers and slows things down as he hops along tying his boots along the way.
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A slender lady, golden hair trailing behind her but the lower part of her face slightly obscured by a near-see-through veil of white, rises from sleep to answer the door.
"Αχ, τι μια ενδιαφέρουσα νύχτα που πρέπει να ξυπνήσει από τον ύπνο."
She wears no armor, in fact, almost no gear one would expect from an adventurer at all. Only a light crossbow secured to her backpack and a small curved dagger whose scabbard hangs on her slender hips belies that she may have something more than girlish charm beneath the layers of silk and scarves that enclose her form. When summoned, she heads to the appointed area. Her violet eyes shine to each of you in turn upon arrival as she hums to herself as if to a tune only she can make out.
Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she nods her head to each of you.
"I am Elianna Morgethai of the Spire. We are to be, companions, then?"
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The young paladin of Shelyn, the librarian, and her owl lead the company to one of the Lodges outer buildings.
"This is one of the Grand Lodge's overflow libraries. Basically a place to put all the texts that don't fit in the main building." explains the librarian named Gwendolyn as she leads the way across the campus.
Gwendolyn opens the doors on an oval reading chamber lit by magical light.
“I have no love of puns,” announces a peeved Kreighton Shaine, the Master of Scrolls in the Grand Lodge the moment the doors open, “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.
Shaine is only one of the late night visitors bearing witness to this disaster. Next to Shaine, the ever-fashionable Paracountess Zarta Dralneen stands with folded arms, glaring at an initiate whose hair and clothes are utterly drenched.
All three begin to 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 in the southern side of the room. “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.”
“Our delinquent initiate here is vague on the details. But clearly, some unclassified item in there must have borne a well-concealed curse.”