Karana replies to Gofran, “Ohhhh, that does sound like the proper way to do things, but what if she does not answer because she is not home? It will be very embarrassing to lead the whole council here if that is the case.
“Or I go in now, look around, and we know if Ms. Lyraine is here… or if she is hurt, we can help her…?” Karana looks at the others. “I think I should go in, even though it sounds a little bit illegal… but I will not act against the will of our team.”
"We got searing questions scorching our minds so yeah, now would be the time for action. Sometimes the truth needs to ignore those nagging rules and laws or else it will get stuck and that means justice won't find its way. No, we need to make sure she's home and if she is, she has to answer us." The rogue's tone makes it pretty clear how he feels about this.
"She did look a little frazzled when we saw her last, when we were asking about Calmont." Bea points out. "I think we should knock, and then if we don't get an answer, letting Karana fly in as a fly or something to make sure we are not needed Now before going to the council"
Karana says, “A majority vote will do if we cannot have a consensus, but I think we all agree on knocking. So…
“Please knock after I have already entered. I need to see how she will react to a knock when she thinks no one is watching. Miss Lyraine is very dear to me, so please understand… I do not wish to confirm any suspicions. But I will follow the evidence objectively, to the best of my ability.”
Her next words are Druidic…
Flesh and clothing blend. Bones work their way over Karana’s skin and dress as her body contorts and compresses. She shrinks in stature, but grows additional limbs, wings and a lot of white hair. Soon she is a speck. A thing that could have blown off of a dandelion.
Her insect form crawls under the door and explores the darkness.
"Rrules and laws arre vhat keep us apparrt frrom animals and therre is no justice vithout 'em." Gofran proclaims, proud of the dwarven love for laws.
Inside the bookshop, darkness reigns and the air is still. The knocking on the door goes unanswered, and nothing stirs in the shadows behind the counter, or in the inky spaces between the shelves.
Karana gives the room a thorough search, looking for what spaces a bug could fit into—especially if there were a secret door!
Her darkvision and scent are sure to help her find what she seeks… unless of course it simply is not there…
Beyond a few paces near the door, where weak lantern light filters in from the outside, it is too dark to see beyond the vague outlines of furniture. The smell of paper, leather and dust permeates the air, and Karanapest can sense only very faint traces of other scents - juniper and amber?
Outside, by the door, a white speck expands in a rather disturbing fashion, but within seconds Karana is back to normal.
“It is dark. My own eyes see better than those of insects. Going forward, I will think of a way to signal my need of a light spell. But for now, I have another spell that can help us seek a secret passage without picking the lock.
“Bea, do you happen to know magic that can assist with communication?”
Bea chews on her lip but shakes her head "No. I can help with the light, but most of my magical capacity rests in the more violent and... Odder ranges." luckily she has not had her arm burst into a slimy tentacle. Most people look at her a bit weirdly once they witness that.
Karana says to Bea, “Oh, do not worry about light. My little friend provides her own.”
She speaks Druidic as she peers into the window…
…a winged woman so tiny she could sit comfortably in Karana’s hand appears!
Bea raises herself up to her tiptoes to look into the window too. "You made yourself a... little person? That's interesting." Bea has many questions about summoning, especially creatures with intelligence, but decides now is not the time to ask them.
“She’s not me mother,” the sprite says to the little big person. Then to that lady who wears feathers and talks too much, “Whaddaya want? Are ye gonna tell me another story? I hope this time it ends before the spell does.”
“Oh, I know… the spell does not keep you on my plane for long. I must ask a favor. If you would please, see if there are any secret rooms within the building. A rotating bookshelf perhaps? A trap door? Oh, and flash every color of the rainbow if you find anything.”
The Sprite says, “I’ll do me best,” and she looks around for something to eat—no, no! A secret passage! If I were big and dumb, where would I hide a door? Somewhere obvious, duh!
She hopes to find the thing the Storyteller wants her to find, just as an excuse to flash every color of the rainbow. Is that six colors or seven? Better flash ten colors to play it safe!
Beau feels somewhat insulted that they wouldn't ask him to open the door and have a gander at it, but perhaps it is for the best. Everyone in Breachill seems so terribly uptight about rules and laws! Sheesh, aren't they more like guidelines?!
"Good luck, little one. We're counting on you."
The little sprite flies through the interior of the bookstore, illuminating the rows of books and the furniture. A door is located behind the counter, but beyond that no passages - secret or otherwise - are found.
Karana watches the tiny person. “Oh… so adorable…! Oh! She found… oh……… she is back to the First World now.”
She turns to Beau. “Such a shame, my little friend discovered what insect eyes could not see, and now the only thing in the way is this silly lock.” She knows not everyone is behind this idea of letting themselves in, but she will try to make the case.
“Let us consider: we have been tasked by the council to act in the interest of justice. We have killed… the bad guys, yes, but here is my point. Killing is a worse thing than picking a lock. We did not hesitate because the situation did not give us the luxury.
“Right now, we are in a situation that is not as time-sensitive, so it seems to make sense to seek the council’s permission. However, this situation is, for lack of a better term, opportunity-sensitive. By this I mean, if Ms. Lyraine is involved in something unsavory—as we have reason to believe—us vacating the premises creates an opportunity to escape, if she has not already done so.
“I suggest we use the talents we have to enter, rather than delay by going to the council with no reason for suspicion beyond Ms. Denn’s word.”
She looks like she has more to say… so much more. But she internalizes these thoughts. For now.
Gofran sighs. "This is not how laws and justice vorrk... at all! Ye can't comparre killin' someone that attacked us to brreakin' in someone's home vith little to no evidence." Gofran tries to explain, but he is seeing no hope here. Elves usually do not care for laws and rules as dwarves do.
"The rreason ve have nothin' against Miss Lyrraine but Miss Denn's vorrd is exactly vhy ve should seek the council. So farr, ve have alrready caught Miss Denn on a lie. The ends do not justify the means, Karrana."
"Miss Denn was defending herself I believe, same as we did when we were attacked. Just with words over weapons." Bea confronts and explains, but doesn't discount. "I agree. We know she went into the tunnel, and asked to keep it quiet. We know nothing else about why, so we should go to the council before making her our enemy by breaking into her home." an enemy of the book vendor meant no more books. A truly horrific thought.
Karana cannot argue that outside of the First World, there are rules. Her father abided by these…
“I think there is no issue clearing with the council that we see just cause to enter the bookstore to investigate. In the interest of not appearing as thieves, one or two of our group can seek permission, and the rest of us can remain here to ensure Ms. Lyraine does not enter or exit without our knowing.”
Beau was about to suggest that he'd stay and keep an eye out in case Lyraine either leaves or returns to her place, but Karana is way ahead of him. "That sounds like a plan, Karana. Let's do it."
As it is quite late in the evening, it takes a little while to rouse all the council members and explain the situation to them, but in the end they agree that an investigation is in order, and send the captain of the town guard along to make sure everything is done according to the law.
The half-elf captain introduces himself as Wilford Lavendil, and the presence of Gofran and Kyrie seems to reassure him. "I appreciate you seeking permission first, rather than forgiveness later. Adventurers tend to be quite impulsive, in my experience, and with little regard for proper procedures."
Captain Lavendil accompanies the rest of the group to the Reliant Book Company, where he marches up to the door and pounds on it with his fist, speaking loudly. "Miss Lirayne? It's Wilford, need to ask you a few questions."
No answer is forthcoming, so the captain steps aside and nods towards the door. "If you can get it open, please go ahead. just try not to cause too much damage."
"Yes. Please don't hurt the books." Bea nods quickly in agreement with the captain.
"I, eh, can try, Captain." Doing 'his' thing with the law looking over his shoulders made Beau a wee bit nervous, but the rogue does what he can to open the door. The more illicit tools, however, are kept under wraps.
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It could be nerves, or perhaps Miss Lirayne has a very good lock, as Beau fails to conquer it.
The captain clears his throat. "I can send for a locksmith, if needed."
The awkward feelings faded like snow before a summer sun when the captain verbally stepped on Beau's toes and personal pride. "No, there's no need for that. Trust me, I got this."
This time the proper tools do come out and Beau doesn't give a damn whether or not the captain approves of it or not. That bridge, so Beau hopes, has been crossed as necessity demands they get through this darned door.
Karana does not want to hurt Beau’s pride, so she resists the urge to slip under the door.
“You can do this, Beau!” she says cheerfully.
"Oh... um... anticipation is good for the circulation, doesn't one think?" Bea tries to help by countering the captain's statement.
The lock clicks open on the second attempt, allowing access to the darkened interior of the bookstore. The counter is to the left of the door, while the rest of the space is occupied by shelves upon shelves of old books written in a myriad languages, with a small reading area tucked away towards the back. A door stands behind the counter and to the right.
"Ha-ha! I still got it." The words are accompanied by a proud smile, and Beau quickly starts packing up his tools. "After you, ladies and gentlemen."
Karana observes Beau at work, watching his hands work the tools. When the lock is undone, she gaps, “Oh, that was so… suave.”
Her cheeks flush as soon as she hears herself.
“Oh, I mean—” She says some words in Druidic.
⏩
The armor on her left forearm emits light. “Yes… that is what I meant to say aloud.”
She enters the door as Beau holds it open, and tries not to make eye-contact with anyone.
Bea gives Beau a congratulatory smile and goes into the room, switching her senses to the arcane to see if there is anything.
Bea doesn't sense any new sources of magic, beyond what the group is wearing or carrying.
Beau eagerly awaits Bea's report on her scan for magics. Once she shares what's what, he looks a little deflated. "So, eh, no magic to be found? Good, good. But also bad. Something's up, and I'd rather know about it before stumbling into it. Let me have a look before we move on past that door? We ought to check out the counter and the reading table, maybe there are clues to be found."
Under the counter there are several shelves and drawers. An unlocked drawer contains the till box, now empty, while a thick ledger sits on a shelf together with an ink pen tethered with string to the counter. The ledger contains records of books sold and bought, page upon page of orderly lines written in a neat hand.
Closer to the door, Beau can read a sign posted upon it, that reads "Staff Only". He also notices very faint, evenly spaced scratches on the frame, almost invisible in the grain of the wood, that together with the unusual shape of the door handle raise his suspicions about the door being trapped.
The rogue lifts a hand and balls it into a fist. The gesture is pretty apparent: stop! He licks his lips while trying to make sense of what might be with the door, but he honestly has no clue. "Bea, there's something with this door. Maybe it's enchanted? Or trapped? Whatever it is, I might need your expertise so that I can examine it further and maybe find a way to bypass or undo the ... thing."
"Hmm... she was always picky about her privacy." the gnome says next to Beau, slipping her senses into arcane mode to help out.
"This is somethin' else. Ye can't trrap a doorr just to keep people out. Vhat if a kid enterrs herre?" Gofran thinks aloud.
Bea does not detect additional magic, but the trap mechanism is so complex and hidden that it takes Beau five tries until he is finally confident that it has been disabled.
Beyond the door there is a large room that seems to be part bedroom, part study, with a bed in one corner, a desk in another, a fireplace and a couple of cabinets and dressers. The room is in disarray, with drawers left open, items spilling out of them on the floor, the bed unmade, the wardrobe missing about half its contents, and the surface of the desk covered with miscellaneous discarded personal effects. Next to the dishevelled bed there is a small nightstand, on which lies a book and several loose sheets of paper.
Pearls of sweat perch on Beau's eyebrows when he faces the group and gives them the good news. The more perceptive might notice one of his hands is trembling. "It's done. In the end, I thought the trap would never give in, but I'm confident the door is no longer trapped."
He gets up and makes room for the others to pass on by. Before he joins them, however, he first needs a drink and a moment to catch his breath. Inside his chest, his heart is trying its darndest to pound its way out.
Karana is curious. She can read just fine in the dark, but she shines her light over the book and loose papers. She reads what can be read without picking one up, trying to get an idea of the gist or subject matter.
"It looks like she left in a hurrry... but vhy? Until this point ve had no clue that the booksellerr vas involved in all o' this... if she is involved at all! Surre, she prrobably messed vith the undead, but that could have happened by accident, even if she vas trryin' to steal somethin' frrom the citadel." Gofran speaks his mind, trying to understand what he is missing.
"The frrogmen and the monkeymen vherre behind the trrouble vith the goblins and ve have nothin' to link herr to them."
The book is titled "Breachill, Outpost of Liberty", and is a thin volume with a picture of the wizard, Lamond Breachton, on the cover, with notes scribbled in the margins. The papers and notes seem to be in the same handwriting as the ledger.
Veraline Rhasolde, author
Breachill traces its founding to 4520 AR. That fall, 50 humans (Really? Exactly 50?) found themselves mired in a threadbare outpost in a valley at the foot of the Five Kings Mountains. They had little shelter, provisions to survive for just a few weeks, few skills among them, and almost no defenses against the area's dangers. Even stranger, they had no idea how they ended up in their hovels, nor why they were there in the first place. Most barely remembered their own names. As winter encroached, the flimsy outpost's vulnerabilities were clear, and the desperate survivors felt hope fading.
And then an act of serendipity saved their lives. Lord Lamond Breachton, (real name?) a wandering adventurer, scholar, and wizard, was returning from a lucrative trading trip to Druma when he stumbled upon the amnesiacs' meager outpost. (He just left them, why come back for them?) Even with his powerful magic, kindly Lord Breachton couldn't solve the mystery of the humans' origins or restore their missing memories. He took [u]pity[/u] (the first honest thing; AND it shows his weakness!) upon the villagers, and spent much of his [u]recently acquired wealth[/u] (from where?) on building proper shelters along the banks of what became known as Breach Creek. Further, Breachton helped the amnesiacs acquire food and establish farms, brought in experts to teach them trades, and used his magic and know-how to aid their day-to-day affairs while the townspeople became self-sufficient. In less than a year, the outpost was thriving, and the leaders of the burgeoning hamlet named their settlement Breachton’s Hill. This name was soon shortened to Breachill.
Despite his monumental place in the town's history, very little is known about Lamond Breachton himself. The wizard’s origins are a [u]mystery[/u] (ask the Triad to look into this), and details of his life before arriving in town are [u]conspicuously[/u] (you think??) missing from the extensive local texts written about the town’s founding. The townspeople know only that Breachton had distinctive, golden-coloured eyes, the rich voice of an angel, and flowing white hair that reached past the magnificent robes he always wore.
Curiously, the wizard made it clear to those early town pioneers that he was indeed a human, as opposed to an aasimar or other celestial-touched being. History books describe Breachton’s demeanour as exceedingly paternal; he treated each of the town’s pioneers as wayward children regardless of an individual’s actual ages. His [u]kindness and willingness[/u] (This from the guy who wiped their minds?!) to expend his own resources to help the outpost seemed without limit, however - he made the humans' survival and well-being his entire focus for an entire year. Then one day, as quickly as he had arrived, Breachton disappeared. The townspeople [u]never heard from him again[/u] ([u]No one[/u] has), but they understood the wanderer's need to move on. As a final tribute to the wizard, the townspeople erected a [u]statue[/u] (hilarious! "Let's worship a con man!") of him that stands in the center of town to this day.
In time, the town caught the eyes of the Hellknights, a strictly lawful mercenary group dedicated to protecting order at all costs. In 4638 AR, the newly formed Hellknight Order of the Nail pledged themselves to fighting lawlessness in the untamed wilds. Impressed with Breachill’s peaceful and efficient functionality, they chose a spot outside Breachill for their inaugural home, Citadel Altaerein. The order built its single-tower keep high on a [u]low-rising hill[/u] (Above the ring. Why?) a few miles northeast of town. For decades, Breachill served as a supply juncture for the Hellknights, and many townspeople took jobs as laborers or staff members attending to the keep's needs. But then, in 4682 AR, only 44 years after building Citadel Altaerein, the Order of the Nail pulled up stakes from what had become known as Hellknight Hill. Lured to the west by Queen Domina, then ruler of Korvosa, the Order of the Nail relocated to a far more expansive home in Citadel Vraid. For a short while, it maintained a [u]skeleton crew[/u] (literally) of Hellknights to watch over the essentially empty citadel atop Hellknight Hill, but a year later the Hellknights abandoned Citadel Altaerein entirely.
The loose papers seem to summarize the book notes. A sketch of a long-haired human is in a corner, with an arrow pointing at it: "Breachton himself. Who was he? Where did he go?"
The notes I found in the Triad's archives say this was a fool of a man trying to build a society of servants to suit his needs. All mentally programmed to follow him. When he failed, he wiped their little minds and helped them build this pathetic settlement.
Should have left them to die. Guilt gets you nothing."
A second hand added devil horns and a crude goatee to the sketch, and at the bottom wrote "Calmont wuz here" under a much cruder sketch of a grinning halfling head, and "Eat sh!t hag".
“So cynical…” The thought just slips out, but she can relate to challenging a great man’s perceived flawlessness. She loves her father, but his attempt to save both her and her brother and no other child never made sense to her.
She wants to agree with the cynic… well, other than that leave-to-die part. That is harsh, but is it literal? Is Ms. Lyraine the cynic? Is there some kind of secret being kept from the commonfolk? And the newcomers like me? She is careful NOT to say this aloud.
She turns to the captain. “Well, sir, I think we can handle this investigation from here if you would like to do other things, such as send your men to look for Reliant Book Company personnel who may be leaving town.”
She does not hard-sell the captain on this. But she will definitely feel more at ease to speak her mind if he is not here.
Bea is engrossed in the book, running her finger along the scribbled notes with a thoughtful gaze. Once Karana is done with the loose paper she gives it a quick read. Her face registers surprise at the mention of mentally programmed servants, then pales considerable as she understands, making the gnome lady settle into a clump of discarded linens. Clearly shaken.
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“Bea? What has happened?” Karana drops to her knees and tries to comfort the gnome, except she is not sure how. All those summers and winters with no other person around…
Then she thinks of how Beau put his hand on her shoulder when she was upset. What was I upset about? She has forgotten. She only remember the gesture was calming.
She puts a hand on Bea’s shoulder. Now what? Oh… she is very upset! Karana does not worry about speaking freely in front of the captain now. She thinks she understands what is upsetting.
“Oh, Bea… this paper disturbs me too. It reminds me of how the powerful take advantage of the common. I have the feeling your personal connection to these written words is more traumatic than mine. I am sorry I cannot think of words to comfort you, but you are among friends here… and… maybe you tell me how I can help.”
Once it is Gofran's time to see the notes, some of his questions are answered, though more are created. "Vell, this is evidence that Ms. Lirrayne vas indeed up to somethin'. By herr notes, ve can conclude she is not frrom Brreachill and has no love forr it orr its people. If she vas herre, it prrobably means she vanted somethin' imporrtant to herr, and considerrin' she took efforrt to hide herrself, it could be dangerrous to all. But vhat vas she lookin' forr?"
Gofran reads the notes again. "She appearrs to have grreat interrest in the Brreachton vizarrd. She looks convinced he vas not a good perrson and vas hidin' somethin', but also has little inforrmation about him. Accorrdin' to herr notes, it looks like this vizarrd vas quite unknown outside o' herre, so it is strrange that she vould come herre for him and if this vas the case, vhy vould she be pokin' at the citadel if it vas only built a hundrred yearrs after he left?" Gofran shakes his head, thinking he is missin' something. He certainly is, since he fails to note Bea's state.
He then reads the note a third time, ignoring the references about the wizard and focusing on the citadel, since they know for sure she was interested in it. He points to one of the notes. "'Above the rring, vhy?' Vhat does this means? Vhich rring? Cerrtainly not Alak's kin."