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I probably won't get a chance to post again before the deadline, tomorrow (it seemed so far away when it was given...) so here are my OOC guesses that someone can use as their IC guess, depending on what people think is the most likely (which may not be either one, of course.) By the most straightforward reading, I think it's the birds eating out of the crocodile's mouth (not the owl and albatross) because they seem to be the only ones I can see who definitively ate after someone else and were not then eaten by someone else. But, I'm caught up on the 2nd line...the "Knowing what you don't know you know", you know? If that's the case, I think the answer is, literally "I don't know." Meaning that the answer is not actually in the riddle and it just requires someone to admit they don't know and thereby "lose." That answer resonates with me more because it also seems to me that, like Razka, Mr. Caught would never admit he didn't know something so that's why he didn't strike upon the answer. So, there're my 2 coppers for the discussion. I don't know what the answer is so I'm good with whatever anyone else guesses.
"I was wrong. The worst part of this poem isn't that the things keep coming to life, it's trying to figure out the riddle. At least it rhymes," Razka mutters, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "It's almost impossible to tell, isn't it, Edwin? But those letters are definitely more prominent. It's a shame they're not that important." "So it's definitely not the owl or the albatross, they get eat first, seemingly both chronologically and in the poem. It might be the worm. It says it is got, but it's just referring to the old saying and comes back to the worm eating again..." "Wait, is it just about the food chain? Is it everyone and no one? Everyone eats someone else and is eaten by someone else in turn who is then eaten by someone else until it all comes back to the beginning, again?"
"Rumplestiltskin," Razka mutters. "And I didn't realize we were fighting by rules. I guess I should have referenced my dueling manual to make sure everything was square." He's not particularly surprised when "Shaine" reveals his true form, though he sort of suspected something more exotic than just a kitsune. Some of his best friends were kitsune, after all. "So, is the question who wears the gold? The loser who eats crow would be the Wyrm, I guess but not sure about who wears the gold unless the person who doesn't know what they know is the person reading the poem?"
Razka is all out of personal spells. Now he has to actually tap into his resources. He pulls out one of the wands on his bandoleer and aims it at "Shaine." "It's a good thing you can't actually be in my way, you big tree!" he growls at Lakadee. The missile that shoots from the tip of the wand weaves its way through the tree's branches to strike at his target.
"Oof! Get off me Monkey Flanker!" Razka snarls after finding himself flattened by the so-called Venture Captain. He really wishes he had a dagger in that moment. He's feeling stabby. Razka pulls himself up off the floor, glad that he didn't succumb to that magic down in the archives. There were undoubtedly more ignominious deaths than drowning while laughing, but he didn't want to think of any...Unless it was for the purpose of applying them to this guy. His jaw, ribs and stomach are all aching from how hard he was laughing and his limbs feel weak and rubbery (well, MORE weak and rubbery than usual.) But there is steely anger in his eyes. "Oh, so we're throwing that kind of magic around are we, PAL?" he asks. "Well why don't you come down with us and we'll give you our reports down in the flooded section, BUDDY?" He punctuates his words with other, arcane words and gestures but is careful not to leave himself open to that pointy rapier.
The ridiculousness of the night finally overcomes Razka thanks to a little nudge from "Dean Kreighton Shaine." He begins laughing uproariously and uncontrollably. "The bird head guys...fishing...and the dancing fish...and Dawn with a tooth missing...bwahahahaha!" Razka says, wiping tears away from his eyes and clutching his stomach.
Razka is somewhat mollified by an omniscient, yet not quite identifiable voice in his head that reminds him that he's not just here to stop a fox headed man. It takes some effort, given the pressure and his basic level of strength (or lack thereof) for Razka to keep his feet when the water does what water does and rushes into a new space to equalize levels. Of course there's already so much water everywhere, it's probably not noticeably lower now that it's filling more space. "I wasn't kidding earlier. I actually prefer the tree version of lockpicking to the other kind. Although, I kind of wish we weren't breaking our own stuff with it," he comments as Lakadee proves how effective smashing is. He edges into the room to examine it, as well, not really looking for not-Virml, since he doesn't think he's there and can't remember a time when he was ever wrong, but really looking for The Darklands Precepts.
"Monkey Flanker!" Razka shouts in frustration. "He left! He changed to look like Virml then left with the Venture Captains! I suppose we're still opposed to the killing the stupid fish?" He looks around hopefully, but, assuming no one wants to have a delicious seafood meal, he start slogging his way towards the doors out, muttering to himself the whole way.
It does not occur to Razka to look into the bag before reaching in to see what's inside. His disgust is obvious as he sees that he has a fistful of teeth in his palm when he pulls his hand back out. Hopefully, none of Virml's teeth are in that batch, since they get summarily dropped into the water and the bag almost follows before Vina takes it from Razka. "So, if this is the real Virml, that means that the Virml who left is some sort of doppelganger. Which would explain why that fish thing was talking about someone who could change their face. I'm betting that the person it wanted us to stop from escaping escaped before we talked to it. He waits, relatively patiently for someone to smash open the door, though he looks at Bob hopefully. He's heard some people with the fancy guns are able to shoot locks open and that's something he wants to see.
"'Who needs a key when you can smash?' should be a Pathfinder motto," Razka says as the tremendous clang generated by wood wailing on iron sounds through the chamber. He stops his search for said key, but does not stop searching the room in general, still seeking out a specific tome (looking for a friend...)
Should the explanation take longer than his search, Razka grows impatient. "The rest of the story can be told walking, can it not? Unless you have something important to tell us about this particular room? I'd like to finish searching this place before I have to do it while treading water."
Razka is just about to begin the traditional, insufferable gloating over a fallen foe when something in the cage catches his eye. He wades toward it, stopping just outside to examine the contents. "Dunno, yet, Bob. But you might want to have that fancy boomstick of yours ready, just in case," Razka answers his companion.
Razka continues to sway gently even after the singing stops, a blissful, mouth open grin on his face. "Hey! I was listening to that!" he says with a scowl when it stops. Then, his eyes open wide with shock and post dated fear and he claps both hands over his mouth, muffling what comes out next. "My teeth! You were going to take my beautiful teeth!" Anger makes it easy for him to summon up the power to fling magic at the toothy woman.
Razka rubs his temples and eyes, hoping to get some relief from the headache forming there. "Ok, the worst part of the poem is not that it doesn't make sense, it's that it doesn't make sense AND it keeps coming true." He looks around at the room. "This place is full of teeth. I assume she doesn't like them? As far as I'm concerned, she can have some out of that flying snake thing we killed in the other room. Or the monkey flanking fish that keeps making water!" He speaks in a more normal tone again. "She just can't have any of mine."
"Gods...this is terrible...I can't even tell if it actually rhymes," Razka says, reviewing the new fragment of poem. "Ready," Razka says as Dawn starts to pullsh on the door. Though he's standing there pretty much the same as always. He doesn't have a weapon to brandish or shield to hide behind, after all...
Razka looks at his sunrod as he cracks it open to activate it. "I really have to find a magical solution to this problem. I'm carrying around a sunrod like some kind of farmer or scullery maid. I might as well be using a burning stick," he mutters. Razka starts to look down the hallway he is near, feeling a certain sense of urgency as the water continues to rise. He's not the strongest...well, almost anything physical but that includes swimming, so he's not looking forward to having to tread water, and each inch of water added destroys untold treasures. "I thought that fish thing was going to lay off?"
Razka is also very interested in the dark shrouded alcove and studies it alongside Vina, searching the titles, looking for anything that might be familiar or stick out.
Unless he sees something that catches his attention, he then looks at the map and poem fragment.
"Either of you ladies able to cast Dimension Door?" he asks the two lady magi holding out the map that can also be a scroll. "You'd probably be better able to take advantage of the mobility than me."
"That sounds like a terrible idea!" Razka replies. "But the best one we have," he continues as the water rises again. There may be members of the Dark Archive who wouldn't mind literally drowning in knowledge but he's not one of them. Not that he's going to lead the way, but he'll follow behind Edwin when the well armored man starts to move, activating his ability to detect magic as he goes. He also takes the time scanning the titles of all the books that he can, looking for a particular title.
"Trees grow back. Even when you don't want them to," Razka replies to Dawn's comment. "But once knowledge is lost it is often impossible to get back." "Thank you, Milady," he says to Elianna when she gives him the scroll. His elegant bow is somewhat truncated by the fact that he doesn't want to get his face wet. He rolls the scroll a bit tighter and tucks it into his bandolier next to his 3 wands. As they slosh around, he follows Vina and Lakadee. It always pays for someone as squishy as he is to follow the people who can take a hit.
"You have to be very careful when you pet trees. You don't want them to bark at you," Razka says with a completely straight face as he wades toward the group and the treasure. He activates his own ability to detect magic as he gets close, studying both the case and it's contents, though he'll wait for Vina to finish her examination before taking it from her.
"Ugh...annoying thing! Come down lower so that I can see you better," Razka growls. He wades back to the stairs, going up a few to get a better angle at it. The thing is flitting and fluttering around and flashing in and out of his vision but he directs another dart of magic energy at the thing. He'd never be able to hit it if some enterprising magic user in the distant past hadn't figured out a way to overcome their natural lack of physical skill.
While the scroll case is certainly more interesting, it appears that Dawn has it under control and this whizzing, flying thing seems like it is going to cause them some troubles if it isn't handled. It doesn't seem like it's going to fall for his (un)natural charm so he makes the gestures and says the words that focus his arcane abilities into a spell and directs magical energy at it.
He does have a moral code. He won't break the law, though he'll bend it a great deal. He won't break his word, but will be careful not to give his word, either and doesn't mind deceiving people through omission or suggestion. Basically, he's a letter of the law/rules sort of guy. He'll follow them all but if there is a situation that is iffy or not covered by law or rules, he'll take full advantage. He's as close to being LE as possible without actually actively oppressing people.
Razka quirks one arched eyebrow. "An interloper in the library? Catching him will be the least of what we do to him." While everything is getting discussed and the group is getting organized, Razka walks along the shelves up here, scanning them for a particular title of interest to a particular paracountess.
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.
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?"
"No, no, not me. I'm no fish expert. I'm just saying, to me, that doesn't look like a very impressive catch. I'm sure you could do better with only a little effort. You should prove just how good a fisherman you are by barely trying," Razka says.
"And espressos are delicious..." he continues, though much more quietly.
Razka sloshes in after the others, hindered like them all by the water and the morass of objects floating in it. It is quite unpleasant, especially since his pants and long coat are immediately soaked and cling to his legs and water sloshes over the top of his boots. Not that they were water tight, anyway so his feet and socks are just as wet, too. He fights down his first urge when he sees the oddly avian and vegetable creatures, which is to yell at them to run them off. He visibly flinches as one of them skewers a piece of text that might be centuries old. "Yes, what have you found? And what are you doing here owl and albat...?" he asks. He abruptly remembers the poem. "That's not such an impressive catch your friend has there, Mr. Owl. Just an old bit of parchment," he says, hoping to keep the creature calm since he has little desire to meet the sleeper.
"Maybe idiots shouldn't be allowed in libraries," Razka mutters, in a particularly foul mood. Seeing all this knowledge destroyed makes him sad. He doesn't like being sad. That makes him mad. He's very much looking forward to hitting something in the face with a magic missile. Still, he starts wading through the water and, much like Elianna taps into his magical abilities and starts detecting for magic, casting his gaze over everything he can and moving slow to make sure he doesn't miss anything (and because it takes time to wade through the morass.) "Well, unless this magic has also changed the rules of physics, the water must be coming from this floor or above. It would have had to fill the floors below before rising to this level, otherwise."
Razka is somewhat mollified when it becomes evident that punishment for Virml is on the minds of both of the higher ranking Pathfinders. He mutters something about papercuts from each ruined text as the culprit is ushered off. Razka has an air of imperious superciliousness that verges on the insufferable as he is called aside by Zarta. Zarta:
...But that fades as soon as the two of them are alone. It is obvious that he is starstruck by and more than a little infatuated with this beautiful, powerful, noble woman. He can't be sure, but he thinks he might giggle with giddiness at one point.
But he is entirely serious as he answers her. "I swear by my life that I will be the epitome of professionalism and will save everything I can, Milady. I will deliver The Darklands Precepts directly into your hands no matter who I have to sacrifice to do so," he says, and gives her a deep bow. When he returns, he takes a moment to read the poem, his demeanor completely serious and businesslike. "That has got to be a riddle or a spell. It's too terrible to be an actual poem. It doesn't even mention a fox!" he says as he reads their only clue. "Unless anyone has conjure rain boots memorized, there's no point in waiting around here any more. Things are getting any drier. Let's get moving."
As soon as he sees Zarta Dralneen, Razka pretty much ignores anything Kreighton says. A paracountess from his homeland and leader of the faction he's chosen to provide his services to? Why would he bother listening, or dealing with a plebeian when someone of her glory was around. He rescued her one time, you know... His posture improves, his whole body becoming more imperious and his nose literally turning up. "What?" he asks Dawn, though, thrown off by her word play. He shakes his head as though to dismiss it all before speaking to Virml. "I have three questions. First, what else do you remember about the riddle? Second, did the man disappear or did you just get washed away and not see what happened to him?" Then he turns to Zarta. "And third...will there be a lottery or tickets for watching this fool get flogged for destroying potentially hundreds of documents, each one of which is worth more than his miserable life?"
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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