"Don't blame the monkey, blame it's owners. They're the ones who taught it to be so rude." says the albatross magnanimously.
"Quite right. Quite right." says the owl still in pique. "Still spare the rod and all that. I should still take a switch to it until its rear turns red. That's what the old man did with me when I was shaver. And now look at me. Builds character it does."
"Right you lot, trousers down!" shouts the albatross smacking his spear's haft into his hand.
"It's for your own good really. Builds character. Look at me." says the owl sagely.
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Razka stifles a groan. In his opinion, puns are the lowest form of comedy and comedy is the lowest form of entertainment.
Instead of commenting on that, he says "Our apologies. I don't know much about fishing, but I've heard that being still and quiet are important. Unfortunately, we have business here that can't wait so if you can just provide us some assistance we'll get out of your hai...feathers as quickly as possible."
"Do you happen to know where all this water is coming from and anything about what is causing it?"
"The cheek! Asking to see our scrolls! This is our fishing spot! Go catch your own in fish in the reference section! And may the thesaurus eat you!"
The albatross taps his ruffled friend on the shoulder and points meaningfully to a sign above that reads "Quiet in the Library".
"Now why don't you all make like your tree and leave us be?" whispers the albatross.
The two little fishermen seem completely uninterested in conversing with a party of such ruffians and clearly would like them to go away.
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Elianna just smiles and joins Dawn, crouching down a bit to be closer to their eye level without making it look condescending. "Aww, but if you help us, maybe we can find a way to help you in return? If nothing else you'll get us out of your fishing spot faster. Plus if we go somewhere else we might scare the fish from there into coming your way!"
(-2 if this doesn't count as a check to "persuade others")
"The cheek! Asking to see our scrolls! This is our fishing spot!""Well, you got me there. Any way I can help you with this? What if I help catch you a bigger fish- then could I see the scroll? Pretty please?"
*sniff*
Elianna just smiles and joins Dawn, crouching down a bit to be closer to their eye level without making it look condescending. "Aww, but if you help us, maybe we can find a way to help you in return? If nothing else you'll get us out of your fishing spot faster. Plus if we go somewhere else we might scare the fish from there into coming your way!"
"Err? So why not go there now?"
"She makes some good points." says the owl.
"Yeah, b-but they are in reverse." says the albatross.
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"Don't be such a feather head! That's what they call reverse headology. This is a woman of character! Obviously she's been spanked before, and it's left an impression upon her. We can tell you all about the water!" says the owl.
"Yeah, I been making water since I was a wee lad." says the albatross.
"Yes, we want to help you!"
This sentence has the same effect as a very loud fart in a very small elevator.
"Listen lad, who's helping whom here, hmm?" says the owl. After a moment he adds, "Uh, now what where we talking about?"
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"Dun need no spankin me tinks..." mumbles the musket-wielding man as he eyes the woman for along moment. "Err...ya we's was talkin bout...uh...yeah. Deys was wantin ter see yas shiny and go onward."
"An how ya gooder at makin water."
Eyeing the pair closely, he tries to get a better sense of the situation.
"The uhh... you were mentioning something about the water. Because she's been spanked?"
"Oh yes, the water. Well, there I was-" starts the owl.
"'We'." interjects the albatross.
"Toldja I was you man when it came to 'we'." he adds in an aside to the party.
"Yes, quite, 'we'. Well, there we were in the gut of the big sleeper, the fishiest fish there ever was. And being trapped in its guts we could tell." the owl begins again.
"So the three of us were just fishing as usual when we hears this sound like someone reciting a rhyme." says the albatross jumping in again.
"And whoosh, here we are!" finishes the owl in a loud rush to get his words in.
There's a sudden increase in the amount, and the force of the water falling from the mezzanine for a moment. Then after a moment it returns to the a more regular flow again.
"Shhh! Don't wake her!" hisses the albatross. "We don't want to be eaten again."
Both little beings look nervously up toward the mezzanine.
"Perhaps it would be wise to move away." says the owl quietly.
"But I just caught that scroll. And then there are those folios, and that big atlas, I got. This is a good spot. It's right between reference and fiction." says the albatross looking at their haul all hooked to a line, and floating raggedly in a half filled janitor's pail.
"As I remember it, I was the one that caught them." says the owl.
The two begin to argue over who caught what.
A large, fat, tentacled, fish the size of a very large, fat, tentacled human sits on the damp floor with a look of deep concentration in its four visible eyes. It strains for a moment as if pushing out a stubborn bowel moment, and then out from beneath the ridges along its back and sides comes a huge gout of water. It's like squeezing a tremendous sponge. The big fish shakes off and begins to strain again.
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"I'll leave you guys alone now. Bye!" Dawn giggles and heads up the stairs to the mezzanine.
"Oh! a grodair!" Dawn mumbles. "Foremother told me about them. They are from the First World, so I'll speak in Sylvan."
Dawn's cadence quickly rises and falls as she speaks in a more flowery Sylvan tongue. "Greetings! I'm Dawn. What are you doing here, may I ask? This is a library, not a fishing pond."
The fish-thing looks up at Dawn looking slightly confused for a sea creature.
"Blub? Blublub bloop dubblub lubblub?" it says like a broody hen amid its nest of tentacles.
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"Yall dun be moven ter far now. Reckon wes may wanna gander at yer catch lata." replies Bob with a nod to the duo as her hurries to catch up with his companions.
"Oye! Aint she a beaut! Kin ya ask iffen she'd stop flooden this here place? Mayhaps wes can get some shuteye before the sun be up."
"Oh, it'll ne'er run outta water. Could jess keep belchen it forth an all."
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Elianna will follow the group upstairs, still with auditory whiplash from the bird-folk's banter though, but she'll also speak in sylvan.
"ھيلو اتي آھي، ھائو ھي اسان جا ڪن، ھيلو ھائو، ھي اسان جا سردار آھن، اسان جي سماج جي آرڪائشي ڏانھن خوش ٿيو." مان پڇي سگھان ٿو، توھان ھتي توھان ھليو ويو. "
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Razka follows the rest of the group of the ladder and onto the mezzanine.
"At least up here, I can be drier, as long as I don't get in the stream," he mutters, taking care to step away from the flow of water.
This, like the bird headed creatures seems like a Nature thing. He doesn't know anything about nature, except that it is usually dirty and unpleasant.
He also doesn't understand a word of the language being spoken.
"Should I try to kill it, or is that just going to make the water flow more?" he asks the people who seem to be talking to the creature.
"Who can tell with these weirdos?" says the owl. "Apparently it's not important now. Let's get undercover before they rouse the Big Sleeper."
"Blooppoop?" the grodair eyes its surroundings suspiciously with its four eyes. "Blub bloopdoop, dubbub. Drub pooloblub dooppoop? Bubbudpoo blup pup ploop blubblub?"
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"Oh! Is this a riddle? She wants to know if we have more heads. The pointier type, with silly fin-like-things with holes in them on the sides."
Dawn replies in Sylvan.
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The grodair burbles excitedly in its deep baritone way for a moment while waving a thick tentacle in the direction of the two elf magi. It continues on like that for a while splashing water from itself like a decorative fountain in a plaza before drawing one of its tentacles up to its mouth in thoughtful pose as if it is trying to remember something.
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Dawn starts making shadow puppets with her hands, but they look more like rude gestures.
"The grodair is looking for someone with a pointy mouth, with alternating upturned corners. He was good at waggling his... head fins? Not sure what she's talking about, there."
The grodair reacts excitedly to the shadow puppetry. It rocks side to side and burbles loudly to Dawn as more and more waves of water surge and splash off of its body.