Loremaster Cronin's page

The group readies themselves. Cronin invokes the magic of the scepters and within a short time a small shadowy portal opens. It looks a lot like a funnel spider's lair. Wisps of shadowstuff form the walls of the tunnel that must be the path that the scepter has created through the shadow plane to a locale with another scepter. There is an element of darkness and unpleasantness to the realm ahead. The tunnel is large enough to accommodate even Goliath, although flight in the passage is not possible for Cryxial.

"I will power the passage and hold it open on this end for as long as I can. Go swiftly young ones and strike a blow that will save the people here from the madness of this war."

The loremaster places his hands around the painting that is the gateway to the shadow realm, and concentrates, his breathing straining.

"Go...."

Loremaster nods tiredly to Goliath. "I understand, and it is fortuitous that you have returned in haste, to undertake this action before the scepters can be used against us anymore. Alas, we cannot manipulate the scepters any way that we wish without a mountain of gold. You already know our situation, and how tight fisted the Thane is. He would rather settle this with axe and hammer, than through these unsure arcane methods. "

He hands Quassine a scroll tube of schematics that they two had prepared. "These will aid you if you get in a bind and need to do some more tinkering in the field."

Quassine you would have had some time to rest and reflect while the Loremaster was researching and trying to decipher some of the Jotun names.

The group splits apart and goes their separate ways, some to obtain the weapons for Kiki and magic belt of dexterity ordered previously from the enchantress. Others to try and sell the potions. You haggle a bit, but eventually are able to sell them. Half the book price as normal. No one wants anything to do with the scythe. While fasctinating, there is no market for such an obscure weapon of that size, out here at the fort.

Some of the group try to track down Head Marshal Hawke, but while he seems to be at the fort for once, rather than on patrol he is quite busy. You pass along a note to him via one of the other marshals, requesting financial assistance, and to see Loremaster Cronin.

Later that day you return to the Loremaster's quarters where Quassine and the old man along with Jovar continue their work.

Tolhemia and your other siblings had turned up a small amount of extra resources, although it is a tiny fraction of what might be needed.

Cronin looks tired and there is an acrid smell in the air as the magical reagents used to fuse the two scepters together tinge the air.

You are surprised when a knock at the door brings Head Marshal Hawke into the chambers.

He brings a large heavy bag with him, and within he explains is a third scepter. Loremaster Cronin smiles. "We must be very careful, as we have three scepters here now. But if we can alter the magic quickly and fuse them together we may be safe. We will keep it in the extradimensional bag until the last possible moment. I also had another idea. I used this painting here to augment the travels of another group into the shadow plane. We could use its magic to also provide some of the power to shunt you through the shadow plane to the destination of one of the scepters. We may need more power, but I have a plan. It is unfortunate that these scepters run on necromantic energy."

"Thank you Head Marshal Hawke."

Hawke nods, and notes regrettably that he does not have thousands of coins sitting around to fund the research here. He also seems somewhat removed, as if he doesn't want to know any details of what is going on here. He seems to distance himself from the plan for some reason and excuses himself shortly.

Through the rest of the day the altering of the scepters takes place, and then the painting. Finally Loremaster Cronin says "We are ready to join the third scepter. We can overcharge it and hopefully we can simulate a method to pinpoint a greater scepter, and then open a very brief conduit through the shadow plane to it. I do not know how long it will last, and if you have a way back, although I suspect if you recover a greater scepter, you can find your way back through it. We must move quickly, as I do not know what ripples are created by the work we have done here. The giants may be able to detect our meddling perhaps. These scepters are all so closely tied. I am sorry that this may seem a fool's errand, and a dangerous one at that, but you folk are brave and best suited for it. Take the scepters with you. If you are able to link them with a greater scepter, you can neutralize others in the chain, I hope. The theory is sound, and Master Quassine has checked my work. There may be unknown factors, so it is not foolproof, and you may need to improvise. Good luck."

Your group prepares itself with any final questions, thoughts, or plans as once it pinpoints a location the conduit transport must be swift. Cronin notes that he will attempt to power it via the painting. He hopes you will have a inkling of where you will end up so that you do not enter blind. You may have a shadow image of the location slightly before your arrival.

Jovar stands and watches flatly with his peculiar ring of multiple eyes around his head.

"The tracking is definitely what we want, how that will happen is hard to determine, but I would like us to be able to seek out at least one other greater scepter and be able to open a gate to it. It will take some considerable power I think..."

Loremaster Cronin places a hand on Quassine's shoulder and leads him to some books and scrolls and a crafting area. He brings out the other scepter and places it on the table. Looking at the two, you two begin the theoretical formulae and crafting the magical script to see what will work. Sort of the homework part of the crafting. He has a few small amount of supplies to start with, but will require more once the rest of the group returns with the order.

Jovar flits about the lap assisting and offering a considerable amount of insight and guidance into the process.

"Well now, we can't go changing too much. We need to keep it simple. We don't have the time or resources to make many changes. It will be risky as it is, and the more complicated we make it, the less likely we can succeed. I think we may be able to destroy the scepters but focus the damage internally to the item itself, rather than creating an explosive blast. Your fantasies about piles of treasure will have to remain just so for now. This will be crude work, no offense to your spell craft meant young lad."

"So shall we get to work? Tolhemia, please take this list from Jovar, and see if you can obtain some of those raw ingredients. It will be challenging, but there are some in town who will help you, if you tell them I sent you. They won't do it for free, but they may try their best to help. You others please go with if you wish, or stay and aid Master Quassine and me."

"Well, Quassine and I can work on these scepters and perhaps we can achieve multiple objectives in case the first plan fails."

"Kiki, the Fellhammer was created by the dwarves and giants as a tool of creation, to forge great things, large golems, other artifacts, mighty fortresses. It is also a weapon, and in the hands of either race a powerful implement against dragons. Each race has also imbued it with their own enchantments, and it would seem that the giants are able to trigger some sort of cataclysmic chain of events that lead to the Apocalypse. Whether this is the result of subtle manipulation of events that lead to all out war, or a direct meteor from the sky that obliterates half of the planet, no one knows, because it has never happened. Perhaps it is linked to ... 'him'" by which you now understand Cronin means the Destroyer. "Ans yes, heroes usually try to keep those artifacts hidden. I guess you could say this artifact is hidden away, and guarded by heroes in some way couldn't you?" he smiles kindly at the little spiderling."[/b]

"Kiki that is a brilliant idea, if we can determine the significance and pattern of the names, maybe they have relevance somehow, we may be able to figure out the names of the others. How to start, I am not sure. You gave me one name, I will being my research with that. "

Loremaster shakes his head saly at the request for spells. "I do not keep many of those sorts of things around here. As you can imagine those are in high demand and used by others. I am not so much a spellcaster as a researcher. There may be arcane casters in the town still that would be willing to trade for spells or gold. Come now, times wasting, lets look at these magical schematics."

"The rest of you, we will need some supplies, your usual stock of arcane crafting ingredients. Jovar can supply you with the names."

"Yes there is much to do. I will need the assistance of Master Quassine here. I may be able to convince the Thane to provide some resources for the experiment. He is notoriously tight fisted unless it is a sure thing, so that may be a challenge. I will have Hawke speak with him. "

Loremaster Cronin smiles at Longirus. "That would be my real wish, as I do not easily take to destruction or harming life, even of the enemy, but they have the power already instilled in them to self destruct. Creating an effect to render them inert would actually be much harder, and require much more potent magic and significantly more resources."

"Goliath, that will be true, and in some ways I am glad that no harm will come to the enemies, but as you say there are many around them that are not impervious to flame, and they will suffer, perhaps horribly. It does not weigh on my mind lightly." He frowns sadly, and the weight of his many years is etched in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and in the furrow of his brow.

The Loremaster rocks in his chair gently, pondering as the group arrays around him. He sits quietly, and read the note you handed to him, at one point you aren't sure if he is awake or not or just thinking. The quiet grows to an uncomfortable length, and just when you are about to say something or check on him, he opens his eyes and sits up straight. "Of course you are right, it would be suicidal and foolish to assault the masterminds behind this. Deadly, very deadly....." He gets a small grin. "Speaking of deadly," he waves the notes around that you gave him, "What if we were able to reverse enchant the scepters to remotely detonate all the scepters somehow? Overload them? Since they are linked, and already have the capacity to be destroyed, it isn't too far fetched. It might not be perfect, but we might take some of them out, or at least remove these as tools for them to use. Sadly we may need the names of the other scepters. Without some major magic, we might need a way to discern them. I must ponder this. Have you any ideas?"

Tolhemia and the Loremaster take in everything that your group explains and relates about your discovery of the scepters, the note from Karkoran, and your concern over the Fellhammer and the giants' plans to recover it.

Cronin's shoulder slump a bit and he sighs. "Yes, it is their intent to recover the hammer, and with it bring about the end of times, Ragnarok. This was never clear how this power was implemented in the hammer without the dwarves knowing about it. It may go deeper though, and require powerful Jotun magic, not entirely dependent on the Fellhammer. I have only seen the hammer once, the Thane has it well guarded, with powerful wards, magics, constructs, and every safeguard imaginable. But, the giants know it is here. Really, its hard to hide the location of an artifact like that. One so tied to the two races."

"I'm afraid, asking to give you the hammer to inspect of guard will fall on deaf ears. I can see the Thane sputtering into an apoplexy now. He will never take if from the deep impenetrable vault. I dare say even if the giants breached every other defense here, the Than would be the last thing standing in their way. So obsessed is he. "

"I think a better solution is to find out who is behind this mad drive to bring about the end times and driving the giants to this fanatical fervor. Since you fought one of the mighty Jotun yourselves, I suspect more are involved. There are also, I think, other forces behind the scenes manipulating things. "

"I think however, having another scepter here will allow us to try some things. I have already once used the first scepter to open a portal to the shadow world, allowing another of your people to travel to a shadow realm for a certain quest. Since we know the scepters can open gates, and this planar travel aspect exists. I think we can use two scepters to work in unison. We may not be able to achieve the abilities of a Greater Scepter. But, what if we were able to home in on a Greater Scepter and open a gate to its location? Eh? Eh"

The old man pauses in his excitement, and coughs a bit, sitting in his chair. "Young man." he nods at Quassine, "I may need use of your magical crafting abilities. I was never very good at that sort of thing. I have always worked around it and gotten things done other ways, but now this will be more efficient to have someone versed in the art of spellcraft. Together with Jovar, we can meddle with magic better left alone? What do you say?"

You see the fatigue in his frame, his simple robes hang over what must be skin and bones, but a fire burns in his eyes, as the old man's passion for exploring and experimenting into the esoteric and arcane is stoked.

"If we can launch a counter to the giants, or at least find out who or what is behind this mad scheme, we may be able to bring about the end of this. "

"It would be so simple to move the Fellhammer to some remote dwarven stronghold, but the Thane will never agree to it and we would simply move the problem elsewhere. The artifact is old, from a brief period of time when the dwarves and giants cooperated, dating back to the prior time of the Destroyer. " The old man whispers it quietly and visibly shakes when he speaks of it.

"Eh?! Wha..? Who's it? Oh hello. My apologies, please forgive an old man for resting his eyelids. They are quite heavy these days. Hello Ms. Brass. Greetings travelers, it has been some time since we spoke." The loremaster stretches and yawns but tries to collect himself and stands to nod at the group and shuffles some vellum scrolls and books on his work area.

Day 12 - Evening

As Goivan and Prar look on, Champawat steps toward the painting and reaches out touching it. Her form immediately becomes shadowy and insubstantial. The painting itself, seems to draw her in and she feels a slight pull from the realm beyond. Her mind, still fixed in this world reels slightly as it tries to adjust to the concept that the painting has become a three dimensional portal. She shes her hand darken and become shadowy as it 'reaches' into the scene of the painting. Was it her imagination, she thought she saw the lady depicted turn her eyes toward her. No harm has come to Champawat, and she steps entirely into the painting. To Goivan and Prar the painting, begins to move and they see Champawat now, within the painting's scene, moving in the scene.

To Champawat in the painting as soon as she is wholly within the painting the world around her swirls and the scene depicted in the painting blurs, the woman and the other items around her disappearing, Champawat standing in a small greyish courtyard, everything appearing shadowlike and indistinct. She focuses her mind and will and tries to determine where she came from. As she does so, a small window seems to appear and she can see out looking at the Loremaster, Prar and Goivan.

Goivan and Prar look to each other and at the Loremaster who is furiously scribbling notes, his quill swishing and ink splashing about as he feverishly dips it into the inkwell again and again, scribing all that is occurring. "Good luck young ones, find your kin, rescue your master."

Goivan and Prar follow Champawat, each stepping gingerly into the painting, squeezing between its frame, though reasonably large for a painting, still challenging to step through carefully.

Once within, the three stand in the same shadowy courtyard as Champawat. A tower, similar in design to the one they found the painting in, looms above. There is no sound, no wind, no insects, birds or anything. The silence is deafening. There is no sun, just an grey haze that seems to cover everything and limits vision to perhaps sixty feet at best. Things feel a bit claustrophobic.

At the end of their vision, on the far side of the courtyard a large black metallic gate seems to exit the keep. To their side, a wooden door, with metal reinforcements enters the tower-keep.

Day 12 - late morning

The Loremaster nods. "Very well. I will begin the preparations. Return later today."

Champawat and Goivan And perhaps others, I am not sure who is still checking in. take some time to track down Jovar or Tolhemia. You know that the large group is settled in town in a special area, and that the goatlings have been placed in their own location as well. You make your way there and are able to find Tolhemia, after some of your other brothers and sisters greet you and help guide you to her.

She and others seem to have taken over an unused warehouse, that seems to have been commandeered by the Thain to house many of your people. Possibly the owner is being paid for such an inconvenience, but there is little trade coming to the fortified town now with the impending attack. Tolhemia is surrounded by several of your other brothers and sisters, and the homonculous, Jovar stands on a large table strewn with notes and information.

The warehouse has been cordoned off with temporary wooden panels and curtains, making temporary rooms and quarters housing many of the other Goodwin's children who did not split into groups such as yourselves.

The Loremaster seems a bit flummoxed by Xanya's offer, "Ahem, well yes, your um suggestion is noted, but, I am an old man, and prone to snoring and restlessness. Yes, and well I don't think that is appropriate in any event young lady." The Loremaster seems caught off guard and a bit uncomfortable by Xanya's suggestion. "It is very kind of you to offer to warm these old bones, and although my wife passed away long ago, my memory of her is always with me." He looks away briefly, somewhat wistfully, then returns "I will make some herbal tea to help as I have always done. Regrettably, I must lock up my study, it isn't that I don't trust you, but it is a good habit to follow in these times. If you would like to return after you break your morning fast, that will be fine, and we will get back to our research and attempt a few experiments."

Loremaster Cronin replies to Quassine, "Thank you. I don't sleep very well lately, and the stresses and demands on my time are great. It will be a troubled sleep if I do. I fear as Xanya suggested, that dark necromantic rituals were or are being used to fuel this item. I have a hope that we can somehow turn that into our favor."

"My intent is to alter the magic of the painting, and I suspect it already works similar to this, you merely 'enter' the painting, and thereby enter the shadow realm. There will be a portal, probbaly a painting sized gate or shimmering square upon your arrival that denotes your way out. My hope is she will aid us by our offer to end the curse. I am ... ahem still working those details out. I suspect she has consiserable power and although I am loathe to rub elbows with the unliving, as long as she isn't a face eating ghoul, I think its worth our while. I suspect you will be able to find her easily enough, or her you. Hopefully you are skilled negotiators..."

He lowers his voice a little, "I haven't brought this to the attention of the Thain yet, although the Head Marshal is aware of my idea. We both agree that her power and skills could be a boon when the enemy arrives, a secret weapon of sorts."

Loremaster Cronin chuckles to himself. "We have this painting, that another group recovered and brought in a day ago. It seems cursed and seems to have some ties to the shadow plane. The subject of the painting I believe if trapped, cursed and undying. I wonder if we couldn't alter the enchantments of the scepter or scepters if there are more, to shunt whatever they expect to summon, transport, or the like into this shadow realm. Oh boy, that's a devious plan." He does an old man cackle and begins to scrawls notes to himself quickly. "I think I have most of what I need here but it will take me some time to accomplish. I need to sleep on this some more too."

As the group continues pouring through various tomes, Loremaster Cronin warns Quassine, "Be very careful with that book, summoning outsiders can be a serious and dangerous business. The knowledge in there is intended for potent practitioners and can be perilous to the neophyte. None the less it may contain useful information."

When asked about any books to purchase or acquire about magical enchantment, he replies, "Well I have many such books here, but they are not for sale, and I utilize them heavily, particularly right now. I do not know of any purveyors of such books in the market, though you can buy some books there. Most books I purchase come from afar."

Together the group discusses the information contained. Loremaster Cronin jumps from subject to subject at a rapid pace, and you can see that the elderly man has a sharp mind and decades of lore and knowledge. Though your intellects are sharp, his depth and breadth of knowledge put yours to shame, and he often rambles onto topics which you are only slightly knowledgeable about.

After another hour or so, and the groups pouring through some more texts, you look over and the old Loremaster is dozing a bit, his head bowed forward. You gently clear your throat, and he jars awake with a start. "Hngghaaah.. Oh, excuse me." He looks about focusing his eyes and proclaims, "I think I have an idea...."

"My plan is to have you travel this shadow realm and seek out the lady of the painting, and in exchange for ending the curse, she will aid us. Such things are no unheard of. "

The Loremaster chats with the group as his quarters is quite full. He looks at Xanya and Cryxial and recognizes the twin magical runes, but mentions, "Don't let your eidolon eat anything or knock anything over with his tail."

As the group discusses and reads through some of the texts, Cronin respons to Quassine's discussion about his past. "It sounds like you have had a trying life. I cannot imagine what would have occurred had you not been rescued."

When Kiki asks about the scepters design and style, Cronin replies, "No, I would say it does not seem so. I am not an expert on giant artistry, but this seems very basic, very functional. In some ways I think it may be elemental in nature. It is not unheard of for Azers or Salamanders to work with fire giants. It would be a stretch, but one I can imagine. I am of course not familiar with their ways either. I doubt I have any texts here about them."

"What's that you have there Quassine?" he looks at the book you are perusing. "Hmm, well its possible. The concepts discussed here could indicate the scepter's manufacture is drow like, but the methods discussed here are not known only to them. Unless it is a secret style of magic, other races and people quickly adopt what works well. Also, the design and artristry are not Drow like at all. The Drow are fond of opening gates to the lower planes and working with demonic forces. That 'could' be what we are dealing with her. It's possible this could be some sort of foci for a gate spell. Using a gate to call creatures usually requires significant offerings, but if this was just a foci for a portal, the scepter might work. It would be a very different variant of the spell however and requires significant arcane mastery to have imbued this with such power."

"Let us keep reading. Xanya's suggestion of using the famed Legend Lore spell would help us. I cannot cast that spell myself, but I have some talent and could invoke it."

Quassine in some ways Cronin reminds you of Goodwin, at least in the learned old man part. He smiles kindly, "Although I do indeed like to teach, I don't know if that is to be my role. I am an old man, not as spry as I used to be. I think after this war, it may be time to move back to the comforts of civilization and take up some gardening. Things need to be set right here, there is much going on. I just hope it will all work out without anyone getting hurt. The Thain risks much by sending you and your people out there to fight who knows what. You ask about another group, I spoke with your 'kin', one group seeking some temple. I wasn't able to help them much I am afraid, as I have been buried in work that the Thain demands of me." he seems a bit surly about it too. "I was going to consult some old tomes or ancient treatises, but I think in the end they planned to commune with the higher powers, despite the cost. I don't know what came of it. I only feel bad that I was not as much help. Here I am a sage and master of lost histories, and I could provide little aid to them. I suspect if they had some lead they may succeed, but I also suspect that this temple they seek is buried under black ice to the north. They may have a challenging time of it. The north lands are where these armies are spawned from and home to innumerable denizens."

The Loremaster sighs, "I apologize for rambling, I need to focus." He runs a hand through his hair and digs into another book.

"Lets go with the idea that this scepter will either conjure something, or open a gate, or evoke some destructive magic. It makes the most sense, and is a start." He sits another stack of tomes on the table. They seem to largely deal with enchantments, high level arcane concepts, the planes, and the nature of magical rods and staves.

"That's where your group comes in..."

Loremaster Cronin clears his throat. "Well then, yes."

"I need a day, perhaps two, to attempt an experiment. If it goes successfully, I believe I would need some volunteers to aid me in taking a little journey. Do you know of any?" he smiles tiredly, but there is a sparkle in his eye.

Quassine, with the help of one of the fortress staff personnel, is able to find his way to Loremaster Cronin's suite. The aged seer, seemingly half awake, answers the knock and nods, ushering you inside. You note that several heavily armed and armored dwarven guards are inside his working chambers. You aren't sure if that is to keep him safe from you specifically, or safe in general. You suspect that it can't be against you as they were not aware you were meeting him. That brings some small comfort. It is more likely that the nature of his research and his value to the fort is of such importance they he is under constant guard.

When you broach the subject of assisting with deciphering the scepter he nods and says he would welcome the assistance. You see the large bag sitting nearby, the scepter safely within the extra-dimensional space and secured in the lead-lined box complete with magical wards.

A stack of books looks as though they have been pulled from a dusty crate. He has opened one so far and appears to be reading from it.

"Start by reading these books. What do you know already regarding the arcane, and rituals?"

"It appears you have been studying our tongue, but you may work faster if you are fluent in it." With that he casts a Share Languages on you. "I keep that handy lately. A lot of you folk running around, digging up things." He waves his hand absentmindedly at what appears to be a large covered painting sitting nearby.

When asked about psionic capabilities and other illithid kin, he scratches his head tiredly, "I must confess that is not my area of expertise. Perhaps when this whole meddling business of the giants and the dwarves and their 'disagreement' is over, I can help you with what you seek." He looks cautiously over the top of his spectacles at the dwarven guards standing stoicly nearby.

"I have some colleagues who may be able to assist you as well. If I get a chance to contact them, they may be able to provide assistance."

When Quassine asks regarding the scepter, "Indeed, join me shortly, after your meeting with the Head Marshal."

"Indeed I am sir. There is an aura of necromancy tied to this painting. I dare say the curse that keeps her in an an undead state, is probably tied to this somehow. And yes, the risk and danger is great. Many lives are at stake however, and I am not one to proceed without caution." he says as he clears his throat.

While Head Marshal Hawke looks at notes and plans from a satchel of things he is carrying, Cronin looks at the group over his seeing glasses. "These troubled times, and there is much to be considered and great risks are sometimes warranted.... sometimes not." He keeps his head a bit lowered as he meets your gazes briefly.

"I will continue my studies of this painting, doing the utmost to discover how we may aid the Thain and this settlement."

"Yes, well it appears this painting, as suspected is linked to some sort of summoning. It is a gateway or portal and I believe the curse linked to it would summon the woman in the painting. I believe she still exists in a state of unlife. I am looking to alter the magics and use the painting as a portal, a gateway through astral, ethereal or shadow realm. If I am successful, it would be a way to travel quickly and attack our foes, or to summon aid from afar. The danger is that it may fail and summon the lady in the painting...."

Loremaster Cronin bows to the group and nods. "Well then, I will certainly begin my investigation. I must warn you, much of my time is already spoken for by the Thain providing guidance and insight into our enemy incursion, but in my spare moments I will do what I can."

With that, the Loremaster carefully wraps the painting, and asks one of the guards to carry it back to his quarters with him. You found the Loremaster to be one of the more pleasant and easy to deal with people so far. You also ponder Marshal Pinnickee who seems to be fairly tolerant of your appearance and backgrounds.

Champawat feels better as the darkness fades that had been sapping her soul.

You feel he is being honest.

Loremaster Cronin says "Excuse me a moment." he casts a spell, protection from evil on himself and begins to examine the painting.

As he looks it over frowning, he responds to Champawat's question, "You know, one of the other groups of you people used a local halfling girl to assist in their market endeavors, Jopple was her name I think. She was almost crippled in a logging accident and now does odd jobs. I will see if I can find out where she is. [b]"This painting is strange indeed. As you say Prar there is fell magic and a curse on it. While its pull is not terribly powerful, there is something going on here. It may be some sort of conduit. Not something you would want to hang in your parlor I should say. If you will allow me, I would like to study it more."

"Marshal Pinnickee, would you be able to find the girl Jopple to aid these people with their shopping needs?"

"Ahem, well then, yes. Let' see what you have there. May I?" he waits a moment then just proceeds, looking at the dirty armor and weapons that the cairn wights used.

"These date to the Monurgin era, several centuries ago. I can't make out the maker's mark, but they are clearly masterwork quality. There may have been many masterwork smiths from the era. They are of some value, but nothing terribly noteworthy. Adventurers like yourselves pull stuff like this out of old ruins all the time. In a big city those who fancy such antiquities may have an interest in these things, but out here, you are better off just selling it on the market and getting what you can. Whoever buys it will end up getting it to someone who appreciates it."

"Now, what if this painting? You say there is something strange about it?"

"Well, I understand you have some information and historically signficant items." he says. (translated via share languages spell).

Loremaster Cronin responds. "We could use your help, but it is wise to make sure you aren't in too far above your heads. The Thain is proud and he and Stonehammer will stop at nothing to see the giants punished for the attack. You didn't hear that from me."

"There is also another spell called Legend Lore, it may be just the thing to help out, unfortunately with such vague details the time involved is on the order or many many weeks. But it can lead to other information. If you can obtain a copy of the spell, I may be able to invoke it, I have...some talents. I may not be able to engage in that research until after this war is over, as the Thain will require my services, but keep it in mind."

"Well typically you need a huge ceremony with holy water and incense, a lot of it. Usually on the order of five hundred gold crowns. You are contacting the gods after all, and they like their incense and holy water, or unholy if they are the unsavory types."

"I would be willing to help craft your questions if you find someone. I know that High Priest Stonehammer can, but he is quite intractable and likely to refuse, and it may be that he is already engaged in using such divinations for battle planning."

"Never give up hope!" He says emphatically. "I will do what I can and search through my archives and books. I may even send a letter or two, but this sort of research is slow. Also, I fear that if your missing temple was in the mountains to the north, if may be buried under thousands of feet of black ice. While I being my historical research here, may I recommend seeking out one who can Commune with the gods. While expensive, it may be your best and quickest hope. Answers the deities chose to give will help me refine my search."

"Oh that we had hours to sit and chat, I have so much to ask you. I would love to write a book about your times. Such interesting perspectives. Some day if you rescue your mentor, how I would so much like to meet him. Do you think that it would be possible?"

"Little if anything has changed with the goblinoid races, they still war with each other over scraps of land or underground warrens. They have not lifted themselves to any industry or peaceable craft or vocation."

The loremaster stiffens up a bit, and gets that ornery old man look about him, and looks over the top of his glasses at straight at you. "Damn stubborn dwarves is why! Can't out the past behind, always meddlings, poking the hornets nest, always need to hold a grudge, and make sure their enemies know just what....ahh, ignore this old man's ramblings, I've already babbled too much. I don't know what I'm saying."

"Say, do those snake things know they are attached to you, how do they not try to crawl away? Facsinating!" he reaches out a finger curiously and pulls it back quickly when several of Taynella's snake hair strike out at the man's finger. "Tsk, tsk, Oh my." he chuckles.

"Do you know the name of the temple this person where this person resided? Your best and quickest option may be to find a powerful priest or shaman to commune with the gods. The spell is costly, but would be most efficient. Let me look through some old books here first to see if I can help. I have several papers written long ago by researchers who sought to rebuild ancient history. In fact I would be interested in learning what you could tell me of your times. As much information as you have, I would greatly value."

Cronin listens patiently as the minotaur tells their tale. When finished, he nods "I had heard as much from Hawke, and I was present when you first spoke to the Thain. This will be tricky, but perhaps not overly so. I will start with a history lesson. Rather than spare you with a list of nations and empires that have risen and fallen in ancient or modern times, I will remark on the single thing that has shaped our world since your people have walked it. Most refer to it as the Dark Times, although it has been so long ago now, that few really know what happened. Perhaps three thousand years ago a being of immense power came from another realm. Much speculation, research and divination have been spent trying to determine what this entity was, but there is precious little to know. What information has been collected is accumulated by those with the mightiest of powers at the time, and by working with the very gods who are worshipped on this world. The being known as the Destroyer slipped into our reality, and began to in a word, destroy. He started with severing the bond between deities and their worshippers, effectively locking out the gods from assisting. How this was accomplished is not know, and the gods of course are reticent to answer admitting that something was able to overcome their divine authority. After the gods were effectively banished, he closed all access from other worlds. Travel through the astral, ethereal, shadow, all cut off. Demons, angels, elementals, all trapped here or prevented from manifesting. Summons failed to work. Planar travel shut down. Within a very short time, people in power began to notice, had the gods abandoned them? For your average peasant in the fields life was fairly normal for a bit as they have no direct connection to the deities or their servants, nor the ability to traverse the planes. Powerful archmages, and the High Priests were very concerned. Powerful heroes and legendary mythic figures assembled to determine what was going on. At this point, the Destroyer had not yet revealed himself. Initially many thought it the work of Rovagug, or other evil gods, but things did not add up. Shortly thereafter, weather patterns changed, the sun darkened, and the world grew colder. The Destroyer appeared for the first time and began to lay waste to empires singlehandedly. No army, mythic hero, elder wyrm, or archlich could stand against him. For a thousand years nations were crushed. No one could understand why, the Destroyer never spoke, never communicated his desires other than to wantonly kill and destroy. Some speculate that it fed on fear and death, or chaos. Other thought that the souls of those vanquished fed the Destroyer and made him more powerful. To his day no one really knows. All that is know is that in time, the Destroyer left. This wasn't a tale of heroes rising and defeating the bad guy. No, this time evil and darkness had won, and merely grown bored with us. The Destroyer left, the gods returned, and the world began to rebuild. In every nation there are signs of his destruction. Ancient ruins, scars from battles. Mass graveyards where the dead still walk. The black ice to our north is the result of volcanic activity spitting its blackened dust into the skies as the world cooled and people suffered, freezing to death as they starved. The populations of the world dwindled and hung on by a sliver. After he left the skies slowly returned to normal, and people began to rebuild, fearful that the Destroyer may return some day."

He pauses. "Now that you know that. I can say that some information from the past has survived. There are many who spend their lives to seek out ancient empires. Hoping to recover lost artifacts from the ancient past. They uncover much. Using divination and other means, such as talking with immortal beings who interacted with the world in the past, there has been some reconstruction of the ancient knowledge and history. Sadly, in this particular area, we know of some of the nations that were near. In your day, to the south Varisia was one that existed. There were millenia between your time and the Dark Times, and since, glaciers cover much of the northen mountains still, in black ice, though they receed slightly each passing season."

"I have never heard of Kao Lor, although with a name we may be able to determine something, though it may require magical aid as you say."

"Given all that, I will pause for questions before we start with modern history and geography."

"I am sorry madame, but I do not. I was merely bemused at the social situation that had presented itself."

Day 5 - Late Afternoon

Loremaster Cronin clears his throat, and looks at the group. "Ahh." He fumbles about the room, digging through various boxes and stacks of containers, until he opens one filled with several small vials. He inspects one and pulls the stopper downing it in a gulp. "Ok, that should make it easier to talk. Languages are such fascinating things though. NO! don't touch that." He swats at an errant raptor that was sniffing at a taxidermied animal on the desk. It hisses in response but steps back. "Keep those critters under control. And you, big fella, watch where you stomp around, this is a delicate space, lots of breakables," he says to Karkoran. Sighing, he pulls up some crates, stool and chairs for the group. "Lets talk then shall we? I feel as though I have as many questions for you as you may have for me, but unfortunately the Thain has tasked me with many things to research before the coming nastiness. We can spare some time though." He seems to be bubbling with a hundred or more questions, but composes himself and takes a breath. "Ok, where shall we begin?"