chaincomplex
     The Noctuary    
  OOC Thread   ▪   Tactical Maps   

 

There are several versions of the story as told by passing planeswalkers, usually given as third- or fifth-hand accounts, but what they have in common is thus. First, that floating somewhere in the Astral Sea is a demiplane, and on this demiplane is a cosmic observatory said to track all affairs planar. Second, that the observatory is maintained by powerful golems, created by a high magic of a kind unseen since the Art of Ancient Netheril, evidence of provenance mortal yet as close to divinity as the story of Karsus can caution. Third, that the intricacies of using the observatory is beyond the ken of even the wisest archmagi on most worlds, and the already very few who have managed more than the briefest of glimpses of its grand clockwork-arcane complications have retreated almost wholly in defeat. And fourth and finally, that a supposed legendary handful of heroes have managed to pierce the observatory's mysteries, and use its powers to ascend to a status akin to divinity, to reshape entire worlds and fulfill all dreams big and small.

So goes the story. It is told with more or less embellishment, but what features are consistent are told with such consistency that most of the wise agree that the observatory must exist, and that it must be the locus of great power. Less certain are they of the claims of divine or near-divine power, and frustratingly their attempts to locate or even  name  the observatory are met with dead ends so convincing that the vast majority give up.

Our protagonists do not count among this vast majority. While they have not ascertained the observatory's location by a long shot, they have discovered a somewhat obscure factoid in their arduous search, that is, the name of the observatory. It is called  the Noctuary , a record of things that pass in the night. After cross-referencing the name across countless archives and libraries, and aggressively pruning topics unrelated to planar affairs or observatories, our protagonists discovered that a certain planeswalker has in his travels happened upon a planar orrery with golem guards, with unidentifiable clockwork-arcane machinery, that is named the Noctuary by its unknown creator. The planeswalker chronicled his findings in his journals, before traveling for worlds unknown and disappearing for good.

The planeswalker was called Aecillian, the Spear of the Stars. His journals, nearly three dozen volumes in all, have but one copy each, and all reside in the archives beneath Candlekeep, an old library-fortress in the Western Heartlands of a region known as the Sword Coast on the world of Toril.


 

Entry into Candlekeep is very much an  affair  for most mortals, being required to donate a tome that does not yet have a copy within the library-fortress' collection, a stringent enough requirement to keep out all but the most devoted knowledge seekers. Our protagonists are, however, anything but  mere  mortals.

In this part, our protagonists will secure a means of entrance to Candlekeep, legitimate or illegitimate.
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Noon, Highharvestide 1374 DR, Year of Lightning Storms. Ux Utanar and Syana. ) There is a young but sprawling city by the coast, a mosaic of wood, stone, and plaster, of whites and reds and tans glittering under the beaming noon sun, large sails at port barely peeking out over the multistory buildings that line the wide and narrow streets both. It is a bustling city, but even amidst its heart, nestled between castles, towers, thoroughfares, and bazaars, there is an empty but grand hall that once was a temple.

This is the Cynosure. Within this hall there is a prevalent effect of impeded magic: it is a DC 20 + spell level Spellcraft check to cast any spell. Local wise men say Myrkul, Lord of Bones, died here, and so the veil to the Fugue Plane thinned, leaking its nature into the material world.

With the large entrance doors slightly ajar, light leaks into the Cynosure's dark main chamber. Here footsteps echo between the marbled stone floor and vaulted ceiling. Six imposing and gargantuan statues of the same cloaked, old, and bearded man gaze down upon trespassers. Over a dozen rows of elegant wooden benches are arrayed before a dais, upon which is what was once a stone altar, now carved for the purpose of being a cross of a lectern and a table.

The duo of Ux and Syana stand by the entrance, silhouetted against the light streaming in. The dragonborn received a vision in his dreams to come here, and so here he came. The Cynosure is almost empty save for one other, a cloaked humanoid figure standing at the foot of the dais, looking the other way. The figure's hooded head turns back slightly, acknowledging the Cynosure's newest visitors.

The muffled sounds and alluring aromas of the Highharvestide Fair filter in. The Fair is right outside, as a matter of fact, right along the Market's grounds. Nonetheless, the cheer and hope of Waterdeep's citizens do not penetrate the shadows of the hall.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. ) The main room of this inn is modest but comfortable and clean. At this time of day there are only four patrons. A kindly older human woman waits on them with a jug of sherry in one hand and a plate of generously portioned, steaming dumplings in the other. Pastoral embroideries decorate the wall, a reminder of the humble farming backgrounds of Beregost's generations past. Beregost is, of course, more than a village now, it is a fully fledged town, with walls, courts, townhouses, and its very own wizard and accompanying wizard's tower.

Feldepost's Inn would have been quite a large building by village standards, but it is merely an unassuming place among the town's many newer properties. Anyone who walks in, local or outsider, can immediately feel that it is in many ways a love letter to a prior time, and its owners and staff old enough to at least remember the stories told by  their  grandparents.

With the beaming noon sun outside, it is relatively dark in Feldepost's Inn. Candles only play a part in lighting the place. Half-open shutters let just enough light in to prevent trips and falls. Sounds of passing wagons drift in, alongside the occasional autumn breeze.

Lorwyn and Delja sit at the counter. The waiting woman leisurely paths her way back to the counter and greets them.   "Travelers, dears?"   The duo are, of course, disguised.   "Staying the evening? Here for a quick bite? Maybe you're here to gossip? Most of us are celebrating Highharvestide at the Burning Wizard, if you young ones are looking for a bit more people of your age and that youthful flair."   She chuckles.   "The Morninglord's clerics will also hold service later today, giving thanks for all the small blessings we receive in life. When I was but a girl I always loved hearing them tell stories of selfless charity. Then after the sermons, of course, I would stuff myself full with partridge dumplings."   She sighs wistfully.   "Can hardly say, 'The good ol' days,' because I also remember the mothers sobbing over their children dying from some fever a cleric can fix like  that ."   She snaps her fingers.   "But things used to be so much simpler... probably 'cause I was a dumb girl with nary a thought but food in my head. Ha!"  

 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  ( Varis and Aeric Hartford. ) The colossal, angled walls of Moonhall Temple carry motifs of a starry night sky into the ceiling several stories high. It is supposedly a precise depiction of the night sky at a certain momentous date and time eons ago, and its artistic realism is unmatched. Subtle magic illusions make some stars twinkle, while less-subtle ones draw lines of shooting stars that appear and vanish from one heartbeat to the next. For some, walking into Moonhall can cause vertigo.

Missing from this enchanted artwork is Selûne herself, who would ordinarily be front and center, but as Highharvestide lands on the new moon this year, she remains hidden in the black veil between the stars. The same, of course, applies to the Tears of Selûne.

Varis and Aeric walk down the main path of smooth black granite, flanked by gentle artificial streams sourced from unseen fountains, upon their surface reflected the twinkling stars above. Behind them the large entrance doors slowly shut on their own, taking with them the midday sunlight and plunging the duo into starlit shadow. They are now wholly within the Moonmaiden's domain. Isera is, of course, nowhere nearby—it is generally regarded as a poor life decision for a fiend to walk into a place such as this.

The path does diverge to several alcove-type substructures in this great hall, but they are all empty. Only the primary path, which goes up some stairs to an elevated balcony, leads to another living being. This is Aryn Gallowglass, an older human woman, the High Priestess of Selûne here in Athkatla (and really all of Amn). She is one of the best-connected figures in and around the Sword Coast who is also regarded as being unambiguously  good , a rather difficult combination of reputations to maintain in these lands of intrigue.

At present she is lounging in flowing white robes on a pile of cushions by a low, round table, reading a light book. Behind her are four large, well-organized bookshelves, not only holding dozens and dozens of books on a variety of topics, but also pricey-looking trinkets such as statuettes, feather tokens, spyglasses, and so on. She does not fail to notice Varis and Aeric. Her expression mostly shows surprise.   "I suppose we  are  open to visitors, though I've sent home almost everyone to be with their families. The Moonmaiden does not celebrate Highharvestide, so few seek her blessings today. I have to ask, why  are  you here?"  
Metastachydium
 No drinking. No drinking. No drinking. No…    Things getting bigger all the time…   Delja, as of now, the single most plain Lightfoot Halfling to grace the Coast, with loose, walnut brown traveller's clothes, all simple linen and wool pulled close around her even as she leans againt the counter, a small left hand hanging to the edge of it, the right out of view, clutching a straight stick, barely a walking stuff, resting on her knees, nods to the woman against the backdrop of her own internal mantra.   Pity I couldn't see it small. Nor will get to see much of it as is.   she adds, her face twitching in an outward display of apology.   We're just drifting through, from the east, left Nashkel the other day.   she explains.   I hope the Gate and Amn are good with each other, speaking of. Road was less busy than I expected. Do you get much traffic going north? Might strike back south, otherwise.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluff, to pretend all interest is casual:  (1d20+21)[ 28 ] 
 
remetagross
Ux Utanar progresses slowly, holding his staff aloft so that its rattling against the floor does not mar the welcome silence. He whispers to Syana.

  "Good thing my dream sent me looking for someone in a place where there's only one person around."  

He closes his eyes briefly to better recall the vision the Lord of the North Wind had sent to him. That throws him back to the paradise of Celestia, and his memories of rejoining with dead but blissful Ereshki. He gets a little sidetracked here and keeps his eyes closed for a dozen seconds, looking either meditative or stupid.

But after that, he resumes walking towards the hooded figure, enjoying the cool feeling of the tiles beneath his naked feet.
namo
Syana glides along the ground more gracefully than a swan on water.
She has eschewed her favoured red-haired shape for the moment, and it's an older woman with green eyes and blonde hair done in countless little braids that accompanies Ux. The rune-engraved staff on her back might draw the eye, as well as the extensive amount of jewelry she's wearing: circlet, necklace, earrings: though none of them look extravagantly luxurious, they place her as a noblewoman or at least a merchant's wife. The rest of her is covered in a green cloak, from which a gloved hand emerges, holding the rest of a flaky pastry purchased as they crossed the market.

She answers "  Quite  " then pops the rest of the pastry in her mouth and chews with gusto.

She does not fully trust Bahamut - not any of the gods really: they have their own agenda, and seem to care little for the Dragonsong, even though they're a part of it. Yet she does not expect treachery here; she does trust Bahamut to have her most faithful servant Ux's continued health at heart.

"  But this place... I find it grating.  "
Magic to her is as vital as breathing, and she instinctively feels something is wrong with the Weave here.

As they near the figure, Syana hails it: "  Greetings. We have come a long way to this old place.  "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Sheet up-to-date with her status.
She's used Shapechange to turn into a Planetar, than used its Change Shape ability to appear as a Medium human.
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn  (Disguised as Sara, the Human Adept).

  Could be worse.   Lorwyn thought to herself while thinking about the sherry.   Could be at Winter's Court.   She shivered at the memories that brought up and glanced around the room to break her thoughts. At least her travelling companion seemed content to carry the conversation. Tired of looking at the décor, she started studying the waitress, paying attention to the shape of her hair, the cut of her dress, how she shifted her weight, taking in all the details save for the color of her eyes. Lorwyn never looks anyone in the eyes. You never know who could be a Fey hiding behind human skin. Old habits learned hard are seldom forgotten. Best not to tempt fate.

Lorwyn's go-to travelling guise is a woman named Sara, a country magician with a middling talent in the Art. "Sara" wears layers of loose clothes with bright colors and swirling patterns. She pins her red hair with charms of the well-respected deities of the Art, Mystra &amp; Azuth, as well as a larger one for Selune, carries a simple dagger in her belt, and pays for a strangers meal at every inn. While not a lettered sage, Sara can read anything written and speak with any beast of the field which endears her more to the common folk who appreciate useful, safe magic rather than spell-blasting mercenaries and knights.

  Nashkel? Looks like 'Sara' has been traveling far recently.   Lorwyn nods along with Delja and slips a silver penny from her moneypouch and slides it across the bartop.   "With all the others here for the festival, maybe there's some that could use a meal? I'm sure you'll know who needs it most."   Lorwyn says to the waitress.   "Yes, yes, yes, and....yes!"   She says in answer to her questions, a small smile at the mention of gossip.   "I'm known as Sara, hedge-witch for hire. I mostly find lost pets."   Lorwyn says and slides another silver penny across the bar. "  For our own food and drink, thank you."  
remetagross
   "Why is that?"    enquires Ux softly. He then proceeds to focus down on the feeling emanating from the hall, to try and find it himself. 
  "Ah. Well, fair enough."    He can somehow distinguish that his own magical abilities are impeded as well.

The dragonborn joins in the greeting from his comrade. He simply bows, not adding anything else.
chaincomplex
 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. )   "The Amnians aren't testing us,"   says the waiting woman softly.   "But the blood stays bad. The Murann problem and the Court at Darromar keep them too busy to give us grief, though. Small blessings. Take 'em wherever you find 'em, right?

"Still, if you're on the road—sleep with one eye open! The Flaming Fist only just about reach down this far south, as you well know, and the ne'er-do-wells know this better than we do, I'll wager. Even with the  big  iron caravans that come up from Nashkel, the Sword Coast has always been and will always be  the  Sword Coast, if you catch my meaning. But it's at least not as bad as that stretch between Chionthar and Winding Water. Small blessings, ahaha!

"But I prattle on like a goat. Well met, Sara, I bet you turned heads when you walked into town! Alas, a plate usually runs three silvers, and a cup two, but we do try to feed those we know who are down on their luck, so I accept the spirit of your coin and see your good heart."   She winks.   "I'll be right back with some sherry and hot dumplings for the both of you. Anything else I can get for you two?"  
 [Delja Utorak: Bluff success.]  [Delja Utorak: Sense Motive success.]  [Delja Utorak: Disguise success.]  [Delja Utorak: Knowledge (Local) success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Bluff failure.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Sense Motive success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Disguise success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Knowledge (Local) success.]  Delja and Lorwyn sense the waiting woman is sharper than she pretends to be, not much more than folk wisdom and the relatively short human lifetime to refine it, but enough to surprise the unlucky brigand who might try bluffing their way into town or showing up in disguise. Certainly enough that she does not quite buy Lorwyn's somewhat stiff introduction. But even among honest folk, assuming false names for safety's sake is common practice on the road here along the Sword Coast, and so the waiting woman does not seem to take offense. Indeed, she otherwise appears to have bought both Delja and Lorwyn's disguises, and so generally remains unsuspicious of any motives "Sara" may have.


 

 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. )  [Ux Utanar:  True Seeing .]  [Syana: Darkvision.]  As the duo step further into the Cynosure, they see along the far walls some dozen humanoid statues shrouded in shadow, smaller in stature than the six great cloaked ones but nonetheless bearing an air of sanctity and tragedy. Behind them, concealed in deep darkness, are house-sized murals and framed paintings depicting great turmoil, in shifting landscapes of battle and disaster, and in depictions of what are probably important historical figures in dramatic struggles, both personal and with each other.

The figure takes off their hood and comes into relief as Ux and Syana approach. It is a human man, not a local of the North by appearance, and quite young at that. Nonetheless he is dressed like any other lower courtier in the city, and would not stand out among the crowd. He fixes the duo with his large eyes and piercing gaze, then after a brief pause offers a small smile.

  "As travelers, or as pilgrims?"   he says.   "The resident overgod does not grant spells, so we pilgrim-types are out of luck."  
 Ux Utanar's Dream.   [Ux Utanar: Wisdom success.]  There are visions, there are dreams, and there are visions in dreams. Recalling dreams can be difficult, they tend to fade like a receding lighthouse upon the sea, mostly washed away by the waters of memory with only the burning light remaining deep within. Ux's dream did not feature the Platinum Dragon speaking in person—at least, Ux does not remember it—but rather images of great ships in Waterdeep's port, sails billowing in the powerful winds of the Sea of Swords, then soaring above the great once-temple that is the Cynosure, slowly but surely falling into ruin amid an ever-expanding city of cosmopolitan desires. How Ux knew these waters to be  that  sea, he cannot quite explain; how he knew this port to be that of Waterdeep, well, his early life saw him closer to Dragonmere than the Sword Coast, so this is also a mystery; and how he knew this temple to be the Cynosure, he also cannot quite put his finger on. But this is the nature of divine visions, and indeed of divinity, as Ux well knows.

It is in this manner that he first "met" the Platinum Dragon, when while summiting Mercuria, he felt that he was on the exact right path in his bones, he felt the North Wind whisper to his soul, long before he ever caught sight even of Bahamut's Palace. It eased his aching limbs and gave him warmth, both literal and spiritual. It is in this manner that he "met" Ereshki, seeing her so close yet so far, almost within reach yet separated by an impenetrable distance. There Ereshki sat, meditative, beneath a shining pavilion upon a great snowy peak. No words were exchanged, but her soul touched his, and he knew they  saw  each other, even as far apart as they are now; and he knew in his  soul  that Ereshki was there, forever watching Ux's fate weave its vibrant tapestry under the Platinum Dragon's gentle gaze.

It is enough to bring a tear to Ux's eye. If he wishes to suppress this reflex, it is a Will save (DC 15).
namo
"  You could say every one of my travels is a pilgrimage, in a way.  " This has a double meaning, for here in the Realms it is Shaundakul, god of travel, whom she feels closest with; but it is also an allusion to her quest for the Dragonsong, whose winding path she hasn't strayed from, a path that goes through the Noctuary.

"  A lonely business it must be, worshipping the Overgod. Still, I for one am thankful he remains an aloof arbiter, keeping the balance. I can easily imagine how much worse things could get if he took sides, got involved in mortal matters.  "

Syana doesn't remember meeting many worshippers of Ao, but of course this would be the place to meet one.
Throughout the conversation, she keeps an eye on Ux, checking if anything triggers a memory or a stroke of inspiration; she almost expects him to start speaking in (Draconic) tongues on the spot.
Metastachydium
 No drinking. No drinking. No… 

 
 Originally Posted by chaincomplex 
   "I'll be right back with some sherry and hot dumplings for the both of you. Anything else I can get for you two?"   
 

Damn. Delja gathers all her strength to nod with appreciation.   That should do, and marvelously. She's paying.   she points a thumb at Lorwyn.   And don't you worry. I'm rather bad at sleeping anyhow. Even as the roads being still open and traversed is some relief.   she she adds, quite conversationally, before raising a sudden finger as the woman's about to turn and leave.   Oh, and one more thing, speaking of Coasts. I keep forgetting we're so close to the sea. I grew up in one of those briny places, you know.   she can't not realize how much of the nostalgia creeping onto her face is genuine.   Know any good spot on the shore nearby? Maybe without trekking through the wild much, too. We've got some road ahead, you realize!   she tilts her head to a side, inspecting the woman's face in what is meant to look like good humour.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Another Bluff, if needed:  (1d20+21)[ 24 ] 
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn  (as Sara)

  "Oh, sorry, let's fix that."   Lorwyn says and gets out the proper amount of coins.   "Thanks."   She doesn't bat an eye at Delja offering to use Lorwyn's money. Certainly far from the strangest thing she's had to deal with. She half-listens to the barkeep and Delja talk, paying just enough attention to be aware of any new lies she has to agree with.

  Write a book...   Lorwyn thinks while checking out the other patrons.   Write a book about sword dancing, and talking to bears, and...and a sylvan language travel guide? Moonmother, what have I agreed to this time? At least she seems friendly. Hasn't murdered anyone or stolen their first born. Yet.     "Uh, also..."   Lorwyn says, startling herself with the interruption.   "But do you know if there's any unusual animals around here? I actually do talk with them."   She says and realizes how awkward a question it was.   "Sometimes I talk before I think. Sorry."  
remetagross
Ux Utanar does not try to refrain a rolling tear. Why bother? He is a sentimental bloke, and that's it. He takes a moment to let it roll past his face before speaking up.

  "As to me, it definitely is a pilgrimage that has brought me here. A vision, to be more specific. From Bahamut."  
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. ) The young man grins briefly.   "Wouldn't mind if the Watcher took some time to meddle in our affairs. But, I'm not actually a worshiper, and my 'pilgrimage' is mostly an academic exercise. Supposedly an overgod once spoke here, and I asked, do echoes of his presence remain?"   He shrugs.   "I don't hear a thing, not here, not now. Nothing except the strange tones of the Land of the Dead, which we cannot reach anyways—not without a little magic.

"So, unless your dragon god wants you to take up history as a profession, or bask in the presence of the dead, I can't guess why he'd have brought you here. For my part, this is my last day trying in vain to listen to the past. It's better to dwell on the present."   He begins to leave, striding towards then past the duo, light footfalls echoing across the chamber.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. )   "I too talk to animals!"   The waiting woman chuckles as she accepts Lorwyn's coin.   "Specifically my cats. Can't say they talk back, though, ha! So: the Sea of Swords is straight west of us and maybe half-a-day's walk without breaks. Pick any point along the coast and you'll have a view even the gods'll envy, I guarantee it. But it is a hard way west, there are no roads and the land is full of hills and ravines, so only our rangers do this trip. A better shot would be to head north along the Coast Way. In a quarter-day's hike there should be a trail west, take it for about a day or two and you'll find the coast, with this beautiful castle on a cliff. This would be Candlekeep, and they won't let you in. But we sometimes camp along the cliffs, and the Candlekeep folk are nice enough to protect us from highwaymen anyways.

"As for your animals: we mostly get weasels and wolves out here, black bears and the occasional brown, they'll leave you alone unless you bother them, or unless they're real hungry, ha! If you're unlucky though you'll run into some real beasts, who'll hunt you without fear. Worgs prowl in the dark between the hills, ankhegs beneath the fields sometimes snatch up a farmer or two, and our rangers speak of landsharks and chimeras, though don't ask me where you'd find 'em, I'll be happy never to know. I'll tell you though, up by Candlekeep if you're lucky you'll find griffons, alighting for the night or just soaring past in the day. They're beautiful but keep your respectful distance, I don't think they much care for us, ha!

"Alright, enough blabbing, I'll be back with your meals."   She wanders off to the back, humming an oddly somber folk tune as her figure disappears into the doorframe.
remetagross
Ux Utanar chuckles at the impishness of the man.

  "To be fair, I don't know why he guided me here either. But I'd wager it's to try and do pretty much what you've tried to achieve: perceiving echoes, memories, prophecies maybe. This place seems as good as any for that kind of enlightenment. Since you haven't had much success listening to the past, maybe we'll have more luck looking for the present or the future, eh?"  

That said, Ux does not keep the man from leaving if he's not interested in a little chit-chat. Ceremoniously, he walks around the room, peering at each of the statues big and small, trying to get the  feel  of the place.
namo
"  Do you mean to say you can hear divine... echoes?  " Syana asks, more interested in the man than before.
"  I couldn't perceive the connection to the Land of the Dead if I hadn't been told it exists...  "

After he leaves, she'll accompany Ux on his visit. Once she's reasonably sure there's no one around, she might even fly up to see the details of the various works of art.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Sense Motive but she sucks at it:  (1d20+4)[ 7 ] 
 
Taelas
Aeric gives the High Priestess a sweeping bow. "  Lady Aryn Gallowglass, I presume?  " he begins. "  I am Aeric Hartford, and this is my compatriot, Varis of Tyr... ah, but not the deity named as such; I believe on his home plane, it is a country.  " He gives Varis a glance for confirmation, then nods. "  We seek... well, connections, my Lady. Varis and I are new to the Realms, and unfamiliar with the locals.  "

Aeric stands somewhat shy of six and a half feet; and is quite broad-shouldered; his outfit, which looks to be made out of silk and furs, speaks of wealth and stature. The cut is unfamiliar but clearly intentional and he wears them as if he is the height of fashion. He sports a pair of round onyx spectacles, and a pair of white feathered wings are folded in and kept tucked close to his back. His shoulder-length hair is ashen blond, and swept clear from his face. He looks young; perhaps mid-twenties, at most.

"  We have heard that the greatest repository of knowledge in the Realms is in Candlekeep, but that access to said knowledge requires a rare and expensive tome of great knowledge. We were hoping you could... point us in the right direction?  "
Metastachydium
  Can-dle-keep. Sounds like an idea, thank you.   Delja nods at the woman. Not that that's good news. The keep patrols its own road. Obvious in hindsight, but inconvenient. Interception is not the best first resort, then, requires more planning too. Attention to the right stretch of the right road. A lot of work. The Nixie lowers her forehead onto the counter and slides it forward somewhat, before turning her whole skull, letting it rest on one side as she watches the innkeeper depart.

Until then, it's the weasels. Maybe they could go diving a little, check for fish, check for backdoors. On which note…    Speak more, tell less.    she looks up at Lorwyn, small wrinkles forming above her eyebrows.    We're here to pick up word of mouth, not to offer it for free.   
remetagross
Ux Utanar eyes the flying Syana around, and decides that's a good idea. What if there was, maybe, a statue of a dragonlike creature? That would definitely be a hint. He unfurls his wings and laboriously proceeds to propel himself upwards, feeling a little bad about the silence-breaking noise.
paradox26
Varis listens silently as his companion introduces them. Finally, when Aeric tails off, he speaks up.  "The Tyr my compatriot tells of is a city state on my home world. I do not think this is the same as this land, as the sun is lower and hotter where I come from, among other things. Lady Dove Falconhand directed me to speak with you. She is one of the few int his land that I know. I am also allied with Those Who Harp, but they have had no idea where I should start my search. Dove thinks you might be able to help me gain access to the tower your people call Candlekeep,"  he says.

His appearance is unusual for this land, where dwarves cannot mate with humans. He is the result of crossbreeding between the two races, and it is rare because of the fact that the mother always dies in the birthing process. He is muscular but also lean, and he is smaller than most of his race. He wears leathers made from a species unknown to Faerun, but which is still somewhat similar to cowhide. He is bald and hairless all over, and he appears to be physically fit. He wears a steel headband around his forehead, and carries a bag at his belt. Notably, he doesn't appear to have any weapons or armour, but he does carry himself as if he is armed, with a certain confidence and proud carriage.
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. ) The man stops to listen to the duo, cloaked figure silhouetted against the light spilling in from the entrance.   "It's just magic, an array of divinations."   He shrugs and smiles.   "And I would say the answer is an emphatic  no , I apparently cannot hear divine echoes. I can tell that we're close to the Fugue, and this has meaning, I just can't see it."   His expression briefly scrunches in irritation, then relaxes.   "All this art? Just lay tales, you'll learn less from them than from a written history of the Time of Troubles. My advice? If you have divinations of your own, use them. Once you hit a brick wall, meditate until night and rest until morning. If you don't hear from your god by then, take a sledgehammer to this place and make yourself scarce before the law comes down."   Flashing a grin, he turns for the light and leaves, the echoes of his receding footsteps fading.  [Syana: Sense Motive failure.]  Syana does not have a good read on the stranger.

 Exploring the Main Hall.  This is the Cynosure's main hall. In addition to the slightly ajar grand entrance doors, there are doors to the left, to the right, and a large set of doors to the back, just off-center. They presumably lead to further rooms, though judging by the size of the main hall, what the duo sees is most of the temple by area.  [Syana: Knowledge (Architecture and Engineering) success.]  This is a classic Waterdhavian design, up to and including the architectural marvel that is the airy vaulted ceiling. There should be a small second floor, as well as an underground; and in the underground often a secret passage, a way for clergy to escape angry mobs. The important folk would live and work upstairs, but all the ministrations would be done on the first floor.

 The Time of Troubles.   [Ux Utanar: Knowledge (Religion) failure.]  [Syana: Knowledge (Religion) success.]  At the front on the dais is a great mural of a silvery stairway rising from a mountaintop to a starry night sky. This is an allusion to the Infinite Staircase, a mysterious passage said to weave through the planescape, all the way to the realms of the gods. To the side, an intimidating statue of the god Helm, guarding the passage in his faceless armor. There are a dozen other statues of gods in various poses of falling, fighting, standing, or running; there are murals, some abstract depictions the Weave, others of coastal cities, of snow-capped mountains, of battles between armies of man and monster, of battles between the gods of light and dark, scenes pulled from across the myriad landscapes of Faerûn. Preeminent before all tower the six great statues, quasi-symbolic likenesses of Lord Ao the Overgod.

The art in the hall tells the tale of the Time of Troubles, when the  Tablets of Fate , writs upon which were enumerated the duties of the gods, were stolen by the dark gods Bane and Myrkul. Thus did Lord Ao punish  all  the gods by stripping them of their divine powers, all save for Helm, who Lord Ao entrusted with guarding the passage back to the divine realms. After a period in which many gods died and others were born, and accordingly in which many cataclysmic shifts and disasters struck the Forgotten Realms, Lord Ao returned to the gods their divine powers, and left them with a simple message and command: the duties of the gods are to their faithful, no more, and no less.

 Ux Utanar and Syana Take Flight.  As the duo take to the air, they can appreciate that many of the murals were painted from a higher perspective than ground level. In the larger murals there is a dizzying depth that one can only feel from this vantage.  [Syana:  True Seeing .]  [Syana: Spot success.]  Upon the dusty lofted rafters, in the dark, is a large metal key that Syana spots out of the corner of her eye. On closer inspection it is unremarkable, crude and of wrought iron, with no hint as to its corresponding lock.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. ) The waiting woman returns and sets down two plates of half-a-dozen dumplings each, and accompanying mugs of sherry. Hot, fresh scents of savory meats and greens waft up.   "Enjoy! And do let me know if you need anything else."   She turns her attention to the other patrons.

Of the other patrons, there are two old human men sharing a table, chatting loudly of farmers' woes; there is an old halfling woman in a cloak, hood up, taking small sips of sherry while sitting in silence; and there is a venerable human woman prodding at her plate of dumplings with moderate success as she attempts to lift one to her face.

There are three exits. One is the front doors; right across from that is a stairway up, presumably to the lodgings; and the last goes behind the counter to the kitchen, from where the waiting woman had emerged last.

  "...I tell ye, it's a bad omen, root rot doesn't normally spread so fast, or so early in the season."  
  "That's enough babbling, the root rot hits whenever the Plague-Crone feels like it, and there's aught you or I or anyone in this town can do about it but plan and pray."  
  "Then maybe we should sacrifice a bird in her name to appease her wrath..."  
  "Figure of speech, old man. I'm saying we're rolling dice. Some seasons we get snake eyes, just have to be ready for it. Mind, being ready  doesn't  involve massacring your own flock."  
  "Oi, you've got three years on me. 'Sides, I think I'm going to give Talona a bird just in case..."  
  "I don't think the Plague-Crone cares one whit what you give her."  

 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  ( Varis and Aeric Hartford. ) The high priestess nods but raises an eyebrow. She sets down her book but remains lounging, folding her hands over her dress.   "Naming the Harpers will do you little good in this City of Coin, and it will do you little good with me, for I am no friend of theirs. It is at least expected of their sense of humor to refer you to me anyways, in spite of our differences, for taking advantage of the natures of others is very much in their repertoire. Well, I have good news: I can get you into Candlekeep with but a word, simply by naming you my representatives. But as my representatives what you do is my responsibility, and I do not trust Harpers or Harper-friends to  not  be troublemakers.

"I expect you're ready to list fifty reasons why your quest is righteous or whatever. I expect this is the pivot the Harpers expect you'll obtain my support with. Well, I cannot in good conscience turn you away on the off-chance you truly are performing an important task in this. But if you wish my support, speak plainly, and I warn you I'm not above kicking you out."  
namo
Syana is fascinated by the The Time of Trouble, and makes no mystery of it.
She'd take it for a fanciful legend if there weren't so many corroborating accounts.
"  If you had the opportunity to seize, or be granted godhood, would you take it?   " she asks Ux. " And don't tell me this is blasphemous and Bahamut is your one true god.  "

It's part of a "game" she's proposed they play together, some time back: they ask each other questions in turn, to get to know one another (they may always choose to refuse to answer). Though they have a shared objective, trust can't be based solely on that; it requires a connection.

"  So, what do we know about the clergy of Ao?  " she muses out loud. "  We might have to go deeper into the temple, but let's make sure we don't offend them needlessly.  "

But then she spots an incongruity, a key.
"  Aha! Come see what I found!  "
Not noticing any untoward magical aura around it, she grabs it to present it to Ux.
"  Let's find out what it opens. Or you could meditate all day like that man suggested.  "
She wonders if Ux is the meditative type; he's surprised her before. She doesn't intend to stick around if he chooses this path, but it's not like she'll get bored in Waterdeep.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
K Religion 19 (taking 10) about Ao's clergy. Would it be expected to have part of the Cynosure occupied, or is it fully abandoned?
 
Taelas
"  I fear I have no evidence to support my claim, my lady,  " Aeric says, spreading his hands in an apologetic gesture, "  but the reason that I seek knowledge is so that I can help my own homeland, which has fallen to invasion.  "

He lowers his spectacles, letting his grey eyes peer out over them. "  I believe that to be a good and honest cause, but as my home is not within the Realms, I would not fault you for finding it lacking.  "
remetagross
Ux Utanar is, indeed, quite the meditative type; the advice given by the traveler could definitely suit him. While he contemplate the imagery of the Infinite Staircase, musing that it would be a good hiding place for a Noctuary of some sort, Syana's question brings him back to her. He smiles at the order she appends to it.

  "I would. And I would, immediately after that, grant a measure of divine power to each of my worshippers - the less powerful ones having more of it. Soon enough, my divinity would be emptied, but the weak would not be weak anymore. What about you?"  

About the key they find, Ux Utanar is rather surprised.
  "Who'd let a key in a place like this? I can't believe it had been purposefully left here, anyone and their mother could find and steal it. So that must be someone who forgot it somehow, or didn't notice it had fallen off. So someone that was going around these heights...maybe a raptoran worshipper, or something like that?"  

That said, Ux Utanar takes a moment to ponder the possibilities offered to him by this new situation.  
"Let's first start trying to open stuff with this. We can always meditate after, if we haven't found anything."  
namo
Syana pretends to pout for a brief moment, for she was angling for a  juicier  answer, but she can't fault Ux's - it is quintessentially him.

"  I think I'd take it, too. After all, the path I am on leads to a similar end... Understanding, or mastering, the Dragonsong would make me something both superior to and lesser than a god, or at least this what I believe.

But first I would wonder about the strings attached. Would it tie me to a plane forever? I wouldn't like  that .
It's the question I would ask Ao, actually, if I had the chance: do Overgods talk to each other? Did he ever get in touch with Siberys or Eberron?

And then, I wouldn't be quite so perfect as you, oh Draconic Knight.
I'd make some glorious songs and incredible spells! I would strive for good with my powers, but would probably err, fall in an ill-fated conflict with my nemesis evil god - or an upstart mortal -, and become another legend, or another footnote.  "

She doesn't appear convinced by Ux's attempts to justify the key being there, but does not dispute them, for it is a mystery to her.

She leads the way as they head deeper into the temple.
remetagross
Ux Utanar nods at her answer while they move forward.

  "I bet the strangest thing about that would be to, you know, get to talk as gods - or overgods, even - just like that. I mean, I know what it's like to be first-hand, face-to-face with a god, or at least as close as that can be, and it's this really unsettling, life-changing experience. Now, imagine it's  us  that produce that effect in mortals that interact with us. We couldn't even say to an awed worshipper something like  'Hold on dear it's nothing, I'm your god but it's not that big a deal'  you know, because even  that  sentence would be turned into some sort of prophecy, or divine revelation, or theological experience...of course you might be the kind of person that enjoys being adored in its every word, but not all would-be gods are."  
Metastachydium
Delja's whole body turns slightly as she perks up somewhat to make room for her plate and glass. An earnest sounding  Thank you.  is murmured at the serving woman with a nod, and she rolls her right shoulder, as though in eager anticipation of a meal. But she's none too fast to touch any of it,  especially  the sherry (she'll have to tell Lorwyn at some point; it's as embarrassing as it gets, but she needs to stop being bought drinks). To win a little time, she takes a quick peek at the room behind her, pretending the little conversation has caught her interest or her ear, at least, for the moment. But the two farmers interest her, perhaps, the least from among all those assembled. The "other" Halfling in the room would bother her more, simply on account of her rather strong resemblance to Delja's own shtick. It's almost certainly nothing, of course, and if it's not, she's most likely the last person who'd need to worry much, but the old, distrustful spirit of one such as herself that lived from the sword is hard to smother.


 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Spot:  (1d20+26)[ 32 ]  and
Sense Motive:  (1d20+16)[ 33 ]  on the cloaked Halfling, looking for concealed weapons, things that might be magic items, hostile intent or any indication that she's trying to eavesdrop on or observe our duo here.
 
paradox26
Varis bows in acknowledgement.  "I do not try to get into your good books by mentioning the Harpers particularly. It is just that they are around the only people I know of in this world. They suggested that you might help me, though they appear to have left out the bit about your antipathy to them. Maybe they just thought that it was irrelevant,"  he says.

He continues after Aeric speaks up.  "I do not have a particular interest in reshaping your world. I wish the powers I might gain access to through the use of the Noctuary. I wish to bring my home world closer to other worlds. At the moment it is isolated and we have almost no inter world communications. I am aware of only a single means used to travel the planes, and that is the way I used to get here. I like this world, but it is very different from my home, and I would like the ability to travel and see the multiverse. I have learned a fair bit about the other planes, and would like to visit them one day. But honestly, the main reason I wish to bring my home closer to the other planes is so that I can try to break the power of the Sorcerer-Kings of my world." 
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. )  [Syana: Knowledge (Religion) success.]  The faith of Ao is more of a cult and less of a church. The academic distinction, as penned by Mage Elminster Aumar while studying divinity at the Leaves of Learning in Highmoon, is the existence of an established  theology , or for the Cult of the Watcher the lack thereof. One cannot understand the Overgod's intent, portfolio, or powers, and there are no holy texts, artifacts in mortal possession, or messiahs who can credibly claim to speak for the Watcher. Ao's "religion" thus is entirely speculative in nature, and so called a cult. Amusingly, the Cult of Watcher hardly seemed to mind, at least while they existed. Syana knows the following of the Cynosure:

 
 Ao's cult in Waterdeep was mostly active in the late-1350s, early-1360s and the Cynosure was their temple. This did not last. The Cynosure was turned over to the Lords of Waterdeep in 1359 for administrative and public use, and by 1365 no "clergy" of the Watcher maintained any permanent presence here. 
 For almost a decade now the Cynosure has been primarily a meeting hall one can rent through the appropriate channels in Waterdeep's government. What few followers of Ao remained would arrive in a steadily decreasing trickle thereafter. 
 The Cynosure is the site of a planar impeded magic field. Local lore says this is the result of the god Myrkul having died here, cutting thin the barriers to the Fugue Plane. This has resulted in many regional mages using the Cynosure as neutral meeting grounds. 
 
 Exploring the Cynosure's First Floor.  The duo step into the adjoining hallway and explore briefly.  [Ux Utanar:  True Seeing .]  [Syana:  True Seeing .]  It is dark here and the wall torches are unlit, but otherwise the hallway is wide and adorned with the mural-portraits of the good gods also seen in the main hall, though here they are depicted in poses and expressions of peace. The hallway is quite long, curves around the main hall and connects to the back of the complex. At various points along the hallway there are eight small adjoining rooms, their doors locked. There are heavy double doors to the back of the Cynosure, also locked. There are pairs of symmetric stairs on either side climbing to a second floor and descending to a basement.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. )  [Delja Utorak: Spot success.]  The hooded halfling woman bears old scars. A barely concealed scimitar sits just under the folds of her cloak, it is a beautiful thing with elegant engravings, potentially magical. Similarly, she wears two metal rings of refined craftsmanship on her right hand, and Delja thinks she sees a silvery thread around the hooded halfling's neck, possibly attached to an amulet.

 [Delja Utorak: Sense Motive success.]  The hooded halfling woman is a local. The way the others look at her, waiting woman included, indicate she is likely a respected regular at this place. At the same time the hooded halfling feels like a combat veteran, maybe a ranger, and she carries herself with a ready poise that speaks to substantial experience. She is definitely aware of her surroundings and aware of Lorwyn and Delja, though not as far as to have hostile intent. She is likely no threat to either Lorwyn or Delja. The hooded halfling reminds Delja of the ranger-protectors of small communities, that is to say, dangerous by common standards, but the duo are far, far beyond anything in the vicinity of common.


 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  ( Varis and Aeric Hartford. )  [Aeric Hartford: Diplomacy failure.]  [Varis: Diplomacy success.]  The Lady Aryn sighs.   "Politeness, my only weakness! I am starting to guess where you are from, Varis of Tyr, though mostly from my learning of the planes from these books—"   she gestures around,   "—so I have no confidence in my understanding of other worlds. As for you, Aeric Hartford, your story is all too common and I haven't a clue as to where  you  are from.

"But planar travelers are rare, so I will talk to you. You are looking for something called the Noctuary. I do not know this thing so it means nothing to me. You say you are on a righteous path, but your tales are too abstract to me for me to understand how important this is. If you want my access to Candlekeep, I would need to be convinced of  your  need—with something more concrete, please—and I would need your word that you would represent me in good faith and not break any of the rules there.

"But if you wish to go to Candlekeep under your own power, I suggest finding a rare book. I have none that I am willing to part with, but House Alibakkar, one of the high houses of Amn, will be holding an auction seven days from now. I understand some rare books will be among their collection. It is invite-only but I could put in a word for you. I would still need your word that you will not cause trouble with the hosts or otherwise break any laws while you attend, but otherwise given your word you will  not  be a troublemaker you will have my support for this."  
Taelas
Aeric nods slowly in acceptance at her dismissal of his plea, then lights up at the mention of 'rare books'. "  Would a tome such as this suffice?  " he asks, perhaps a bit eagerly, and he withdraws a thick book from his haversack and shows it to her. The sack is likely magical, as the book almost seems to leap into his hands, and the sack seems too small to have held such a volume without it being obvious.

It is a book full of descriptions of various exercises and diet suggestions. "  It was magical, once, but the magic has been expended,  " Aeric explains, with a somewhat wry smile. "  I'm told it is just a normal book, now. But if it is a matter of  rare  books...  " he trails off, hope evident in his expression.
namo
Syana nods sagely alongside Ux as she reflect on his words.
"  How lonely it must be to be a god! Or perhaps the divine spark just erases that kind of consideration. Surely they don't  feel  just like us.  "

After a pause:
"  It's already somewhat lonely at the top, don't you think? Such power we wield... But that isolates us too.
Or perhaps it's just me, for I don't give out my trust easily.  "
There's an implicit praise of Ux who has earned it.

As she talks, she takes the time to scan their surroundings for magic - it's possible the walls block her senses[1], but it's worth trying - and she tries the handles of each door they pass. Finding them all closed, she huffs.

If she doesn't find anything amiss, she'll try the key, first on the double doors, then on all the side doors, commenting:
"  there could be a hidden door too, but before we scrutinize every inch, let's try the obvious course of action.  "

If that does not work either, she'll ask Ux "  do you mind if I go check out each room briefly? I shouldn't take long - except of course if there are divine traps left here and there!  "
She proceeds to turn into a Tulani Eladrin and, as an incorporeal sphere of light, simply crosses[2] through the eight side doors, one by one, investigating.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
@chaincomplex
[1] Arcane Sight (like Detect Magic): The spell can penetrate barriers, but 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, a thin sheet of lead, or 3 feet of wood or dirt blocks it.

[2] As an incorporeal, she "cannot pass entirely through an object whose space is larger than [her] own", but I assume the doors are thinner than 1 ft.

@remetagross
I think I haven't mentioned it, but Syana would have offered a gem and a coin to Ux some time back, which he is free to refuse:
- the gem is so they can communicate, up to 3 times per day, as long as they are on the same plane. Only Syana can initiate the "call", but then it's two-way for 10 min.
Syana can also recall the gem from anywhere, if she so desires.

- the coin carries Syana's draconic arcane mark, and allows her (and only her) to find him more easily if they get separated.
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn  (as Sara)

  "Sure."   Lorwyn says to Delja and then digs into dinner.   "I think if you want to pick up more rumors we'd have better luck at the Burning Wizard."   She says after putting most of it away.   "At least the crowd will probably be a little more...exciting than what's here."  

She pushes her plate away and stares at Delja without reservation.   &lt;&lt;To be honest, I'm not entirely sure yet what to think about you, or this whole situation, or what we're going to do once we get into Candlekeep. And you don't know much about me in return.&gt;&gt;   Lorwyn says in a low voice, speaking in Sylvan.   &lt;&lt;But, you seem nice. Which is not what I was expecting.&gt;&gt;   She says giving her a smile before switching back to the trade tongue.   "So let's act like friends and maybe it'll become true. Want to get tipsy and go prank some wizards?"  
remetagross
Ux would've accepted Syana's presents.
  "Yeah, agreed. Even if gods have peers, it seems like all they do is either keeping themselves at a respectful distance from the other gods than can be their allies or friends, or utterly despising the other gods that can be their ennemies. Except maybe Garl Glittergold, I don't know. But all they do all day long seems to be plotting, and thinking, and crafting plans...like, even if that's for the greater good of the Prime, it's not exactly  funny ."   He chuckles.

  "And I agree it's pretty much the same for us planeswalkers. How often it is that you meet another one? And when you do, each of you needs to get past so many self-preservation layers of defense, and intelligence, and whatnot, before actually gaining each other's trust. Thank you for your kind words, by the way"   and he bows a little to his comrade.

Ux Utanar pensively contemplates the paintings of the gods around them while Syana proceeds to exploring the place.
Metastachydium
Nice.  Nice.  Whatever is happening to the world, Delja has to wonder.    Are you  very  certain you're  not  Myriad, Sara?    she flops her head back onto the counter with a sigh, only to lift it back up, slowly, so that she can see about the eating business. It is the weirdest thing, a habit she hasn't missed at all ever since she  finally  managed to snatch one of those silly flying crystals off of someone, but she's a Halfling now, and being watched, to make matters worse. She  has to  eat, with little care for moderation, at least in public.    We talk to folks to pass the time, if it's useful, all the better. But what we… What  I  need     she morosely explains, keeping her mouth deliberately half full all the while, to mess with any nosy ear sitting farther from her than Lorwyn    is a plain old  boring  room and a very quiet night; we're doing  business  here.   

She wishes she could elaborate, in plain terms, on how someone as  nice  as them two could just murder everyone in the room, then walk out and torch all Beregost, with nobody the wiser when they'll find it empty the next day… But that would be incredibly wanton. An unneccessary distraction, running all manners of risks. Inefficient. Unprofessional.    What I don't need is attention.    she says, instead, simply and quietly, continuing to stubbornly stuff herself as though she  liked  it.    And no more fancy languages, either. They turn heads the wrong way.    The sherry she didn't even touch  yet , but tipsy is, sadly, still on the table. She sighs again. Maybe she shouldn't be so harsh. Just because she couldn't get Ux, she needs someone she can trust if that happens. If she makes some stupid mistake again. She shakes her head, slowly.    Look, just give this a chance.    she asks Lorwyn, at last.    You'll get to do all the ugly things to all those wizards if it doesn't work out.   
Chambers
 Lorwyn  (as Sara)

  "I don't care about the wizards."   Lorwyn says as the smile drops.   "It was just something we could do together. Something other than skulk in a tavern."   She sighs and picks at the leftovers on her plate.   "If boring and quiet is what you want it shouldn't be hard to find. I believe they are selling it by the evening here."   She slips out a few more silver coins from her pouch.   "This should cover the room, but I'll not spend the Highharvestide locked in a sleeping chamber. I'm going out, to see what there is to see. Come with if you care to."  
paradox26
Varis considers the possibilities for a few moments. But, seeing as he can't think of any realistic alternatives, he decides to go ahead with the proposed plan. He runs his hand over his bald pate, running it down over his face as he submits to the inevitable.

 "I thank you. As far as personal reasons go, I am hunted by the Sorcerer Kings of my homeland, and they are far too powerful for me to take on even a single one of them. I think the planes might have means of gathering sufficient power to defeat them, while also bringing my world into alignment with the rest of the planes. I could just avoid the Sorcerer Kings by staying on this world, but I feel bad for the rest of the people of the Tyr Valley on my world. They live beneath the whips of the Kings as well as their Templar servants. I can help with the Templars, but not their masters,"  he says thoughtfully.

 "Your offer of an invite to the auction would be appreciated, if my newfound companion's book is insufficient. I have some gold I can pay for one with. I also swear not to cause trouble. I will only fight if I am attacked first, which I am sure you would agree is reasonable." 
Metastachydium
An expression of  immeasurable  pain materializes on Delja's face for a moment. She reaches for the mug, and seems to down half the sherry in a single unbroken gulp, before setting it down.   Alright.   she stares Lorwyn in the face.   Just tell me where to find you, at least. I'll settle in. Might go check on you as needed later. And we're going to have a  talk  about things later.   once not in the stupid common room in a stupid tavern full of peasants prone to gossip and panic, she mentally adds.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Delja not trusting her own allies biting Delja in the bony blue behind?! Who would have thought!
 
namo
"  What kind words?!  "
Syana has a good poker face, so Ux may have trouble figuring out if she's joking or not.

The truth is, she's not the kind to openly provide compliments, so implicit praise is the best Ux can hope for.
remetagross
Ux Utanar is taken aback. Has he understood something wrongly? He reiterates the past few minutes of chit-chat in his head, trying to figure out the intent of Syana behind her remark about trust. No, no, on second thought it  did  sound like an oblique compliment.

  "The part where you were saying that you were not handing out your trust so easily. I understood it as..."   and he realizes how awkward this line of thought is going to sound, if spoken aloud.

  "...never mind. So! Them locked door, eh?"  
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. ) Syana paces down the hallway, counterclockwise then back clockwise, scanning as she moves.  [Syana:  Arcane Sight .]  In one of the side rooms there is a moderate aura of magic, and in three other rooms faint auras of magic.  [Syana: Spellcraft success.]  She identifies the former as some moderate conjuration effect, and the latter as permanent effects of  continual flame . Then checking the large room to the back with the double doors, she sees a moderate aura of magic.  [Syana: Spellcraft success.]  She identifies the magic as  Mordenkainen's private sanctum  and  permanency . Finding little else, she tries the key she found on all the doors. It does not open any of them—it does not even fit their keyholes. She then turns incorporeal to directly check each room. Here the rooms are numbered clockwise starting from the front entrance.

 
  Side Room 1.  A mostly empty and windowless storage. There are three small- and one medium-sized crates lying around. A portrait of an old distinguished human man hangs on the far wall. Inside the medium crate are the five moderate auras of conjuration Syana spotted before. 
  Side Room 2.  An unoccupied office. There is just a desk, two chairs, and two empty shelves. The furnishing is well-made and clean. A beautiful thick window behind the desk looks out to an overgrown garden and partially crumbling stone garden walls. 
  Side Room 3.  Another unoccupied office, arranged in much the same way. The only differences are a half-empty pot of ink set aside two feather quills on the desk, a small stack of blank parchments on the shelf behind said desk, and a standing  continual flame  torch flickering merrily. A framed portrait hangs on a wall depicting a nobly dressed human woman wearing some strange yet elegant helmet bearing engraved sigils. The helmet conceals most of her identifiable features.  [Syana: Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty) success.]  This woman must be one of the Masked Lords of Waterdeep, one of the mostly anonymous council of rulers who preside over this city. The enchanted helmet they wear is iconic. 
  Side Room 4.  An unoccupied lounge. There are cushioned armchairs and ottomans, and thick carpets and low tables. A large window overlooks the ruined garden. Streams of light illuminate the room. Two large framed landscapes hang from opposite walls. They depict some pastoral and hilly part of Faerûn. One is light and airy, with golden farmlands and a windmill. The other is somewhat dark, with a wooded dirt path twisting and turning, leading to some modest wizard's tower peeking out from behind tall and thick conifers.  [Syana: Knowledge (Geography) success.]  The latter painting is unquestionably of the famous Elminster's Tower in Shadowdale, near the River Ashaba and just off the North Ride. 
  Side Room 5.  Another unoccupied lounge, virtually the same as before except with furniture rearranged and a standing  continual flame  torch. A framed landscape hangs on one of the room walls, depicting a scenic mountain coastline with turbulent waters below and ominous thunderclouds on the horizon.  [Syana: Knowledge (Geography) success.]  This is the Sword Coast, some point overlooking the Sea of Swords probably south of Baldur's Gate, judging by the warm environs. 
  Side Room 6.  Another unoccupied office, arranged in much the same way as before. This one also has a standing  continual flame  torch. The desk and shelves are bare. A framed portrait here depicts a picturesque noble human girl. 
  Side Room 7.  Another unoccupied office, arranged in much the same way as before. This one is dark with curtains drawn over its window and missing any decorative artwork. 
  Side Room 8.  Another windowless storage. There is a stack of about a dozen framed paintings lying against a wall. Two chairs and three tables are stacked across from the paintings. Three medium-sized crates lie around. A statuette of a pensive elf woman stands on one of them. 
 
Then reaching the back of the hallway, Syana steps through the heavy double doors and into a large meeting hall. As she detected earlier, she is stepping into the zone of effect of a  Mordenkainen's private sanctum . A great darkwood table sits in the middle. Cushioned and elegant darkwood chairs are arranged around the table. Thick black velvet curtains are drawn over the tall windows, keeping the room mostly dark save for a trickle of light coming in from the gaps. Unlit torches, chairs, dressers, and slim tables line the walls. The meeting hall is unoccupied, naturally. There is apparently nothing of interest in this room.


 

 Beregost.  Set amid expansive farmlands dotted with windmills, overlooked by large ruins atop a rocky hill, the town of Beregost sits nestled at the foot of the hill, protected by walls of stone with wooden parapets patrolled at all times of day by archers. Beregost's buildings are some mix of townhouses and free-standing lodges, with quaint two- or three-story facades of stone foundations and oaken supports speaking of urban Baldurian influence. The place is prosperous from the high trade traffic that passes through, being one of the major stops between the northern and southern regions. There are countless residences and shops, though little in the way of community buildings save for a town hall. Notable locations include:

 
  The Song of the Morning.  A large temple-fort with distinctive high walls and rose-red spires. This is a church of Lathander the Morninglord. It is the most prominent building in Beregost. 
  High Hedge.  Technically outside the walls of Beregost proper. This is the estate of Thalantyr the Conjurer, a mysterious but deeply respected wizard in these parts. 
  Thunderhammer Smithy.  Regarded as one of the greatest blacksmiths in all of Faerûn, Taerom "Thunderhammer" Fuiruim runs this store out of quiet Beregost, serving visitors from as far north as Neverwinter, as far east as the Dalelands, and as far south as Tethyr; and even beyond. 
  The Burning Wizard.  A bustling inn and tavern catering to travelers and locals alike. Always lively but never overboard. 
  Feldepost's Inn.  An old and comfortable place known best to locals. Has a long history. 
  The Red Sheaf.  An inn and tavern catering to merchants and their ilk. Its managers are reputed to be well-connected up and down the Sword Coast. 
  The Jovial Juggler.  A club where the younger locals go after a day's worth of hard work. One can hear its revelry from down the street and—to the chagrin of many—at all times of day. 
  Ruins of the Ulcaster School of Wizardry.  Also outside Beregost's walls proper, this complex of burned ruins atop the hill looms day and night. Local rumors speak of it being haunted, of adventurers seeking their glory within but never emerging. It is a little off the beaten path but not hard to reach. 
 
 Beregost: Streets.  ( Lorwyn Suaril. ) Lorwyn steps out into the wide streets and is immediately hit by a combination of warming sunlight and cooling breeze. It is not busy out. To one side she sees a man and woman carrying baskets of linens down the road. To the other she sees a horse cart loaded with barrels trotting along at an easy pace, its driver chewing on a reed. Before her are a group of four younger local common folk walking northbound, talking and laughing among themselves. One is carrying a lute and strumming a simple folk tune.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Delja Utorak. ) The waiting woman returns and tilts her head quizzically.   "Your friend taking a walk? Can't blame her—these dumplings sit heavy in the stomach, hah! Can I get you anything else?"  

 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  ( Varis and Aeric Hartford. ) Lady Aryn takes a brief look at Aeric's book.   "Nobody but the scholars at Candlekeep can answer that, but I know of these tomes, I've been a beneficiary of their magic more than once. I suspect... you won't have much luck. I cannot scribble into a journal and pass it off as a rare book, if you catch my meaning. The gatekeepers of Candlekeep will not likely be impressed by a book whose only value was magic long since lost."   She leans back and fixes Varis with an interested look.   "What is this power you speak of gathering from the planes or capable of bringing the planes into alignment? Is this your 'Noctuary'? Something capable of changing the shape of the planescape... well, that's beyond even many gods. I cannot begin to imagine it.

"I would caution you to rethink its credibility, but this does remind me of a story I've heard many times, of some wish-granting demiplane floating out there upon the Astral Sea. I wasn't aware it had a name, if we speak of one and the same. Very interesting! I know many of the wise have taken these stories somewhat seriously, so perhaps I should do the same, and cross-reference this 'Noctuary' you speak of.

"This may change things. Aeric Hartford, if I have your word as well that you will not cause trouble, I will prepare an invitation to the House Alibakkar auction for you both. But, is there anything more you can tell me of this 'Noctuary'? Why do you search for signs of it at Candlekeep? I might wish to investigate these rumors myself, in which case forget the books, you are free to join me to Candlekeep, you'll have entry as my 'companions'."  
namo
In defiance to caution, Syana will stick her "head" inside the medium crate to get a better look at what's inside. It's quite surprising to her that items imbued with a fairly potent magical effect would just be left lying around with minimal protection.

She returns to Ux, a touch disappointed even though she expected that outcome.
"  Je suis brocouille  " she tells him in Draconic, meaning that she came up empty-handed.
If he's interested, she shares with him what she's seen, in case he detects some secret pattern that's eluded her.

"  Shall we head downstairs next?  "

Then, considering she's made the poor, earnest knight stew enough:
"  You understood well what I meant, earlier.  "
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "Don't know where I'll be going, but I'll be back here before morning."   Lorwyn says and ducks out. In the space between inside and outside she drops her disguise and enters the street as herself; muted, subdued, observant. She waits a few moments for the group of youths to pass then crosses to the other side of the street and heads north, keeping behind the young folk.   Not quite like home. Too quiet, not enough people. But it's nice. Cozy.   She stays visible but quiet, just someone strolling through town.

She glances up to where the moon might make an appearance later this evening.   Do you have any folk here, Moonmother? Feels like I'm about to get lost again. Could use some guidance. Maybe a friendly face.   She thinks as she prays to Selune.   Though if you're lost, might as well follow someone else.   Shadowing the revelers far enough back to not catch their attention she follows them wherever they go, as long as it's someplace public.   Hopefully someplace loud.  
 
 Spoiler 
Move Silently, just to walk unnoticed  (1d20+38)[ 51 ] 
Knowledge (Local), to check her knowledge of any Selunites here in town.  (1d20+18)[ 33 ] 
 
Metastachydium
  She's very young.   Delja shrugs at the woman, trying to underpin her words with a tone tired, but warm at the same time, despite the sudden urge to go after Lorwyn and just  strangle  her.   She still wishes to live fast and loud; a fair ambition I can't quite resent. Would the silver she left cover the cost of a room?   she's quick to change the subject; the woman's question is as good an excuse for that as any.   I should stop letting her handle our coin, but otherwise we'd never get anything nice. I'm one of those dour tightwads, try as I might to fight that.   the Nixie adds with an apologetic grimace, before sipping the sherry again. Sadly, it's actually pretty good. She wouldn't mind a few more.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluff to Bluff:  (1d20+21)[ 38 ] 
 
Taelas
Aeric deflates slightly. "  I expected as much, but hope springs eternal,  " he says with a sigh, and returns the tome to his sack.

When she asks why they seek Candlekeep, he glances at Varis, then shrugs. "  My planar guide touted Candlekeep as the greatest repository of knowledge in the Realms,  " he explains. "  She is also the one who spoke to me of the Noctuary. Though I fear she does not possess more knowledge of it than that.  "

He gives Lady Aryn a bow. "  I will certainly vow not to cause trouble, but it is unlikely I could afford to purchase a rare tome -- I have only barely more than half a thousand gold pieces to my name at present.  " He pauses. "  I suppose I do have some nonmagical jewelry and a few outfits I could part with...  " he adds, in a low mutter.
remetagross
The dragonborn smiles in answer. Then considers her proposal.

  "Il y a les bons chasseurs et les mauvais chasseurs de trésor..."   he says in Draconic, meaning that sometimes the prey eludes even the best treasure hunter.

  "Let's go downstairs. I'm looking out for something that would, I don't know, evoke some sort of flashback, or divine insight, into me, but there's nothing so far. Nothing looking even remotely connected to Bahamut, anyway. Still, if my dreams sent me this place rather than any other one, it must be for a good reason. It's not like, I don't know, Olidammara, who would send misleading dreams to his faithfuls just for fun, you know?"  
paradox26
Varis nods his agreement with Aeric's words.  "I concur. Candlekeep is renowned in this land for being a great repository of knowledge, where I will find the resolution to my search. Should any actually exist, of course. I have half a thousand gold pieces, so between us we can likely gather together a thousand with some ease. But more than that will require that I sell some magical personal effects. I would not like to disturb you any more than we already have just in coming here, My Lady,"  he says.
remetagross
Walking down the steps, Ux Utanar thinks aloud.
  
"So you say you've found a crate containing five moderately powerful magical auras? Any idea what that might have been? I mean, any kind of stuff pertaining to something as powerful as the Noctuary would probably be of artifact-level magniture, but still...who knows?"  
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  ( Ux Utanar and Syana. ) Syana sticks her head inside the crate.  [Syana: Darkvision.]  It is, naturally, pitch black inside, but this poses no issues for the changeling. She finds herself face-to-face with a stack of small paintings, a collection of small medallions, a spyglass, and five feather tokens—the sources of the auras she sensed earlier. Three tokens are engraved with a bird in flight. Two are engraved with an elegant swan boat. There is a wax-sealed envelope sitting atop the painting stack titled: " Lady Mother Amonra... " The seal bears the crest of a noble house but Syana does not recognize it.

After returning from her search, Syana regroups with Ux and together they proceed down to the basement. Their footsteps against the stone stairs is the only sound: nothing of the festival outside makes it this far in.

 [Ux Utanar:  True Seeing .]  [Syana: Darkvision.]  The basement is dark, though as usual this bothers neither Ux nor Syana. The two stand in a long hallway lined with unlit wall torches. Tables and chairs are stacked up against the wall, and interspersed between them are about two dozen crates, none individually taller than a halfling. The atmosphere down here is interesting: despite being underground, the air is hardly stale, though neither of the duo can pinpoint the source of this feeling.

There are four adjoining rooms flanking this hallway, two on either side, and each behind a closed door. The hallway itself terminates in a doorless arch, past which appears to be some manner of storage room with rows of shelves.

 [Syana:  Arcane Sight .]  There are dim, lingering auras of evocation and divination suffusing the air in the basement. It is a subtle thing, but powerful magic was once worked here.


 

 Beregost: Streets.  ( Lorwyn Suaril. ) Lorwyn slips behind the gaggle of young adults without making a sound and keeps pace at a comfortable distance. Beregost is not large: after a few minutes down the main avenues, turning corners around the biggest buildings in town, the townhouses are replaced by sprawling estates, their small, iron-gated gardens replaced by sprawling, hedge-lined fields. Eventually the group comes to the northern walls of Beregost. The walls are about ten feet high, made of rough stone, and easily scaled. A single archer stands atop the parapet, leaning against the wood rails and gazing off into the distance.

Two militiamen guard the gates below. The gates in question are thick wood framed by cast iron. They are wide open and the militiamen pay little heed to the young adults passing through, only glancing at them briefly.

The young adults let out a whooping cheer as they pass the guards. The one with the lute strums something that sounds like a cross between a military march and a jingle. The guards smile and laugh and wave them through.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  ( Delja Utorak. )   "I remember being young once. Those were the days! Or maybe not so much. Things used to be hard before Most Radiant Ormlyr took up holy governorship in this overgrown village of ours. I remember how one of my friends from when I was a wee girl, she broke her leg running down a hill, took a fever from marrow entering her blood, and passed that fall."   The waiting woman's expression darkens for the briefest moment.   "Ah, sorry, didn't mean to kill the mood. It's just... folks like us don't get to live as fast as we'd like, eh? Not without these big-city-cleric types to help us back up when we fall. Life can kill off all our childhood illusions. Anyways..."   The waiting woman shakes her head.   "You're short two gold crowns, lions, shilmaers, whatever you call them wherever you're from. Don't worry too much if you don't have the coin on you at this moment, I'll set you up for the night.

"If you can pay it tomorrow, I'll take you on your word of honor. And if you can't, I don't mind setting you up for the night, but policy's not to do multiple nights for strangers. Sorry lass."   She raises her hands.   "Too many think to take advantage of us."  

 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  ( Varis and Aeric Hartford. )   "Rare doesn't necessarily mean expensive,"   says Aryn. She quickly scans the shelves behind her and pulls out a volume. It is unmarked, bound in a dark leather, and held closed by a clasp.   "These are the last words of Saint Amahl, an Ilmatari monk who traveled the lands of the Calim Desert, following the physical path of the ruin that time has wrought upon Dashadjen ever since its fate was sealed in the Era of Skyfire. The roads he traveled are now known to us as the Trade Way, the part that lies in what is now Calishamnite Teshyllal just north of Calimport and Saint Noradnar's.

"This tome is a true rarity and one of a kind. It would get you into Candlekeep without question. It also likely would not fetch above a hundred crowns at auction, if that. The truth is that few collectors know of Saint Amahl, and fewer still care for the words of one of Ilmater's lesser saints. Over the years it's been rebound and restored, and in its current state collectors may not even recognize it as a true relic. They have a nauseating fascination with freezing the past in amber.

"Before you ask, no, I will not sell one of my most prized possessions. But this is the sort of thing you should look out for at the Alibakkar auction."   She places the tome back.   "Give my other suggestion some thought. Perhaps you don't know much about what you might find at Candlekeep, but simply by knowing this Noctuary by name you have an advantage countless of Faerûn's greatest minds do not. I intend to look into this myself for you have certainly piqued my interest. In the meantime, I will secure that Alibakkar invitation for you."  
namo
Syana - who has resumed her earlier shape, if only so Ux doesn't feel strange talking to a ball of light - grins at Ux's question; she was probably expecting it.
"  Oh, you can be sure I snooped. Curiosity killed the cat  and  the changeling.
They were feather tokens: you know, the magical kind that can conjure up a bird, a boat or a tree. Addressed to a "Lady Mother... Amonra", if I recall correctly. Does that ring a bell with you?

Anyway, it was tempting to swipe the things - I quite fancy them - but that would have been too crass. Still, I wonder how they ended up there.  "

She falls silent as they reach the basement. They each take the time to go around the room.

"  There is... something here. I don't know if it's related to our quest, but this definitely feels unusual.  "
Since Ux doesn't share all her senses, she elaborates:
"  There are lingering traces of magic on a level that was probably incredible. I could try to get a glimpse of the past, but maybe I should check out the side room first, and you the storage room, just in case?  "
remetagross
  "Lady Mother Amonra? No, nothing comes to mind...something to keep in mind, however. Though it's odd that such a letter has been staying in this place for this long. I mean, if you're a lady something, you're likely to have a court wizard of some sort that can cast a locating spell for that letter, right? So I guess if it's still there, it's because that lady isn't aware she was supposed to receive something. Maybe because she's dead. And yes, I'll have a look at this storage room."  

He crosses under the arch and ends up in the storage place. Paying good heed to his comrad's last comment, he invokes the magic in his blood to orient his search.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Using the Magic Insight invocation for a Detect Magic effect. In case the invocation reveals something more specific, more spatially located, than a diffuse, all-encompassing trace aura, Ux Utanar proceeds to inspecting each of these located auras in turn.
 
Metastachydium
Delja resists the urge, albeit barely, to just bang her forehead against the counter a couple times. That is incredibly typical, leave now, think things over later like that. It's a good thing she doesn't  actually  let Lorwyn handle the  actual  money. Now's still make-believe time, nevertheless. She downs the remaining sherry in one gulp, making but the faintest face of displeasure.   Sorry about that. And sorry about your friend, long ago as it was.   she says, with yet another sigh.   Sara knows spellwork; it's the petty sort, but a broken leg won't rid me of her. I'll see to it that the room shall be paid for, and before  I 'd leave, too. Until then,   she slides off the stool, landing with a grace she can only hope wasn't too fancy (she should pay more attention to that, actually; moving like she'll dodge any odd arrow, even while drunk's a big invitation for way too many questions).   please do take the silver, as an advance.   Her sword hand slides behind her back and under the cloak as she leans against the counter; it might look like a stick now  to her , and this isn't Sigil with everyone packing miracle eyes, but good caution's a good instinct.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluffing on:  (1d20+21)[ 25 ] , with a side of
Sleight of Hand:  (1d20+12)[ 30 ] 
 
Taelas
Aeric gives a bow. "  Thank you, my lady. Though it sounds as if your book would fetch a higher price if the general public knew what it was. Rarity has an unfortunate tendency to make things expensive.  "

He turns his head to look at Varis, then back to her. "  I would not mind joining you personally,  " he adds, hesitantly, "  but I fear you would not be so open to my guide, and I cannot in good conscience leave her behind. My apologies.  "
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

Moreso out of habit than desire to be unseen, Lorwyn sinks into the shadows and glamours herself before passing by the guards. Not really paying attention to where the group is going, she follows them because they are bright and loud and happy.   Maybe I shouldn't have been so short with her. It's not like she wants you here anymore than you want to be here.   Lorwyn argues with herself in her thoughts while shadowing the revelers.

  Let's see where they're going, then maybe head back. Well, head back after a bit.   Lorwyn smiles a little to herself.   I'm sure she can manage by herself for a little while at least.  
 
 Spoiler 
Going Invisible and Hiding in Shadows  (1d20+60)[ 79 ]  before passing through the gate. Subtract 20 if they can See Invisible.
 
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  Ux steps into the pitch black storage room. The floor, walls, and ceiling are of smooth stone. Shelves almost as high as Ux can reach form rows all the way down.  [Ux Utanar: Wisdom failure.]  Standing between rows, Ux is hit by the chill of cool underground air, but more than that, there are wisps—an undercurrent—of breezier, fresher air from some sunny place, source unknown.

The shelves are mostly bare save for a few wrapped parcels here and there, which on inspection contain items such as parchment, near-empty jars of ink, drying powder, measuring cord, hemp rope, and empty vials. This is but a sampling of course: the storage room is large enough that a proper search would take time.

Ux opens his arcane sense and determines he is heading in the right direction.  [Ux Utanar: Spellcraft success.]  The aura is dim everywhere but has more presence in this room. It is recognizably a mixture of evocation and divination magic, though as it is no longer in effect, he has no luck specifying what specific magic it is.

In the meantime, Syana finds each of the adjoining rooms locked. In her tulani light form she nonetheless proceeds with her search. If the rooms above were bare, these were barren. The first on the left is just empty save for an equally empty frame hanging on the far wall. The second on the left is an office of some sort, but only with an empty desk and shelves, and a faded rug to provide some measure of comfort for its last inhabitant. The first on the right is a storage room with stacked crates, though one of the crates, open with its lid leaning against the wall, is visibly empty. The second on the right is empty, though there are faint traces of powdered silver on the floor drawing a wide circle.


 

 Beregost: Streets.  The gates are too narrow to find shadows in which to pass through.  [Lorwyn Suaril: Move Silently success.]  It matters little. The guards cannot see Lorwyn while invisible, and even if they could, there was an opening in their watch allowing Lorwyn to simply step around their lines of sight. With her footfalls being as silent as a whisper at hundreds of yards, there was no chance of her being detected.

She continues to follow the merrymakers down the wooded trail, but at this point, she can already hear their destination. In the distance ahead filters through the cottage hedges and woods the sounds of music, shouting, and laughing.

It is not long before her quarry arrive at the Jovial Juggler, some sort of tavern or club on the outskirts of Beregost. It is set right by the road and wears the facade of a large two-story building with festive wreaths and banners hung across. Just outside are just over a dozen folk milling around. Most have clumped into small groups and are laughing the evening away. Two are playing strings and a pipe respectively, two parts of the same convivial folk tune, individually decent sounding but discordant in their lack of coordination. Their audience does not seem to mind judging by their friendly laughter.

The gaggle she is following are welcomed in with cheers. They disappear through the front doors to the audibly raucous celebrations within. Smells of sweet mead and savory treats waft out and mingle with the earthy scent of oak in the surrounding woods to greet the invisible Lorwyn.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Delja readies herself with as much subtlety as she can muster. If any here made her, they did not make it known. The waiting woman scoops up the coin, picks out a key from her keychain, and places it before Delja.   "Thanks... and this is for the room. Room twenty-two, floor two."   The front doors shake as heavily laden carts pass just outside.

 
 Spoiler: Beregost 
 Beregost.  Set amid expansive farmlands dotted with windmills, overlooked by large ruins atop a rocky hill, the town of Beregost sits nestled at the foot of the hill, protected by walls of stone with wooden parapets patrolled at all times of day by archers. Beregost's buildings are some mix of townhouses and free-standing lodges, with quaint two- or three-story facades of stone foundations and oaken supports speaking of urban Baldurian influence. The place is prosperous from the high trade traffic that passes through, being one of the major stops between the northern and southern regions. There are countless residences and shops, though little in the way of community buildings save for a town hall. Notable locations include:

 
  The Song of the Morning.  A large temple-fort with distinctive high walls and rose-red spires. This is a church of Lathander the Morninglord. It is the most prominent building in Beregost. 
  High Hedge.  Technically outside the walls of Beregost proper. This is the estate of Thalantyr the Conjurer, a mysterious but deeply respected wizard in these parts. 
  Thunderhammer Smithy.  Regarded as one of the greatest blacksmiths in all of Faerûn, Taerom "Thunderhammer" Fuiruim runs this store out of quiet Beregost, serving visitors from as far north as Neverwinter, as far east as the Dalelands, and as far south as Tethyr; and even beyond. 
  The Burning Wizard.  A bustling inn and tavern catering to travelers and locals alike. Always lively but never overboard. 
  Feldepost's Inn.  An old and comfortable place known best to locals. Has a long history. 
  The Red Sheaf.  An inn and tavern catering to merchants and their ilk. Its managers are reputed to be well-connected up and down the Sword Coast. 
  The Jovial Juggler.  A club where the younger locals go after a day's worth of hard work. One can hear its revelry from down the street and—to the chagrin of many—at all times of day. 
  Ruins of the Ulcaster School of Wizardry.  Also outside Beregost's walls proper, this complex of burned ruins atop the hill looms day and night. Local rumors speak of it being haunted, of adventurers seeking their glory within but never emerging. It is a little off the beaten path but not hard to reach. 
 
 


 

 Athkatla: Moonhall.  Aryn dismisses Varis and Aeric with a wave.   "Come back in four days, I will have your auction invitations then."   She returns to her books with a sigh.

 Athkatla.  The City of Coin and capital of Amn, and a merchant and naval power of Faerûn. A sprawling, fortified metropolis of grand, theatrical architectures, skylines dominated by domes, pediments, and cruciform towers. The port is buried beneath a crowd of sails great and small. A river cuts the city in two, with a soaring bridge-district crossing overhead casting a mountainous shadow upon the ships below. Proper mountain peaks as tall as the thick clouds borne by the currents of the Sword Coast can be seen in the distance to the north and south—if the adobe and clay roofs of the two-, three-, four-plus-story townhouses squeezing Athkatla's narrow avenues do not block one's view of the sky. The sounds of seagulls and distant crowds permeate the air.

Notable locales include:

 
  Arbalest's House.  A collegial temple to Milil, headed by the mysterious Patriarch of Song. 
  Dome of the Rose.  A monastery and temple to Lathander, headed by the quiet and pious Mornmaster Thaddin Dawnhunter. 
  Moonhall.  A gorgeous temple to Selûne, headed by the shrewd High Priestess Aryn Gallowglass. 
  The Mithrest.  An old, cultured, and stylish inn. Proud and luxurious. 
  Den of the Seven Vales.  A fairly pricy inn and tavern for well-to-do travelers and merchants. Leans into the cosmopolitan nature of Athkatla. 
  The Five Flagons.  A drink house run by experts in all things alcohol. 
  The Seas' Bounty.  For youths both poor and monied. Expect students, socialites, and musicians at this inn. 
  Silverale Hall.  Solid inn with a trusted local reputation. Known for good food and company, and not too busy at that. 
  Delosar's.  An old inn popular with military and legal figures. 
  The Adamantine Mug.  A congregation place for travelers and merchants of modest means but high ambition. 
  The Copper Coronet.  A dark place where the undercurrents of society gather. Expect smugglers and pirates at this inn and tavern. 
  Waukeen's Promenade.  Sitting at the city's center, this immense tower of terraces hosts one of the busiest bazaars on the continent. Almost any deal one could hope to make can be closed and cleared here. 
 
Metastachydium
  Twenty-two, floor two.   Delja repeats, receiving the key with a look as, this once,  genuinely  thankful as someone as habitually unsmiling as her can have settling on her face. This has been a day; not long, not hard, but tiresome. All travel, little to show for it. Other than Lorwyn's patience running out, that is. A majestic achievement. And in no small part her own fault, no less. She can't shake the feeling this is just Myriad  and she can't even bother to assume Lorwyn'll  behave  like Myriad?  Way too out of shape, that's what she is.   Meet you in the morning, I suppose. Sort out what I'm short with.   she waves a coy goodbye on her way upstairs. Not much time for more pleasantries here; even if Lorwyn will be fine on her own, there's a lot to do until the dawn still.

 ♣ 
Once up and behind a locked door, Delja sees to business, or, rather and at first, to making sure the room's good for business, walking its length and breadth, eyes and ears open. Checking every corner and every crack on the furnishings. This should be a quiet place of people minding their own affairs, but one can never be too sure. The Nixie swallows a sigh, so as not to make her own task harder. This would be Myriad's job, checking the nooks and crannies. And making it harder, Ux Utanar's. But she'll have to make do, for now.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Spot to see if there's something amiss/suspicious in the room:  (1d20+27)[ 36 ] ;
Listen to listen for neighbours and various potential eavesdroppers, voluntary or otherwise:  (1d20+25)[ 41 ] ;
taking 10, with a +7 on Search checks to go through the stuff in the room, to see if she can find anything that shouldn't be found in a room in some inn;
Move Silently, to ransack the room without drawing too much attention from anyone who might hear that:  (1d20+15)[ 25 ] ; and, while at that
Knowledge (history) to know if this place with some history has any history she should worry about  :  (1d20+8)[ 24 ] 
 
paradox26
Varis bows at the dismissal, wondering if perhaps he and his companion should have invited the lady with them. But he dismisses the idea, because he knows she would likely have her own uses for the Noctuary, which likely would not align with his own plans.

As they re-enter the street outside, he considers which of the few places within the city they should go to spend their time until the auction invitations are ready.

 "Perhaps we might try the location known as Waukeen's Promenade? It is apparently named after one of those beings you call Gods, I understand. And it has a reputation for having many unusual goods for sale. Maybe we can save time by finding a rare enough book there?"  he suggests to Aeric.
remetagross
Ux Utanar feels through his third eye that he is heading in the right direction. Here, in the loneliness of the shadows, in such a calm and sacred place, he decides the time is right for a prayer. He kneels right on the spot and whispers. His words bounce soflty through the silence, below the archs.

  "O Bahamut, Platinum Dragon, Lord of the North Wind, Bringer of Justice, hear my plea. I ask from you the gift of perception. Lead me through this place to where my dreams have brought me, so that I can find the message that you have set there for me."  

After a few more seconds of meditation, he rises to his feet again and, confidently, proceeds straight ahead.
Taelas
Aeric gives the lady another bow before he leaves her presence.

Once outside the temple, he gives a somewhat audible sigh of relief. He absently nods his head at Varic's suggestion. "  That's a fine idea, but we should be wary -- such bazaars are full of scammers and liars,  " he says, then adds, "  I also need to meet up with Isera. Who knows what she's up to without me to supervise her.  "
namo
In the room with the crates, Syana checks out the inside of a couple of them, taking mental notes to be able to compare with whatever Ux is finding.

Once back outside, as she resumes a humanoid form, she finds herself half-consciously humming a wordless song, solemn but unlike a lament. That song is not infused with magical power in itself, but she believes that all songs are part of one.
It is a way for her to attune herself with the place, with the atmosphere.

But she falls silent as she joins Ux and finds him in prayer.
She floats after him as he forges ahead.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Hi! I'm Lor- No, not your real name.   Lorwyn shakes her head in admonishment to herself while standing under tree cover, watching the nearby party and practicing her introduction.   Sara again? Find a squirrel friend to bring along and show them her party trick?  
  Hi! I'm Sara the hedgewitch and I'm lost in the woods. Can I join your party?   She leans back against the tree and slides to the ground.   Hi! I'm Sara. I'm pretending to be normal for an evening because my world is cursed. Do you know how many laws of the fae you can violate and still live? I do!  

Without raising from her seat, she flicks her fingers at the Juggler and teleports to the roof, her invisible feet dangling over the edge as she sits above the crowd.   Hi, I'm Yondi and I'm - wait, I think Yondi died last year. Can't be her anymore. What about....Yondi's sister, Donna?   Her clothes flicker between different outfits from housemaid to seasoned ranger to debutante and assassin.   Hi! You're speaking with the last remaining part of this bodies psyche that isn't owned by the fae. Please choose a name. Any name will do because none of them are real.  

Lorwyn listens to the happy party-goers below while she feels sorry for herself, hidden from sight and scent and safe from having to act normal.

 
 Spoiler 
Lorwyn is going to just chill on the roof for an hour or two and then head back to Feldepost's Inn.
 
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  Syana sticks her head in half a dozen crates chosen at random. Four are empty, one has candles, journals, flint and steel, rope, soap, a spell component pouch, and wooden holy symbols, and another has several stacks of parchments, a bundle of quills, and a row of half a dozen full ink jars.

In the meantime, Ux makes his prayer. His whispers echo through the archway and dissipate into nothing. Silence and darkness remain. Then walking all the way through to the end of the storage room, Ux quickly finds it is a dead end—just the rows and rows of near-empty shelves.

The touch of cool, fresh air brushes upon Ux's face. Almost inaudibly, wind whispers from somewhere in this room.


 

 Beregost: The Jovial Juggler.  The sun filters through the canopy and a breeze caresses Lorwyn's face. The sounds of laughter, song, and joy rise from below. Locals come and leave in groups not unlike the one Lorwyn followed earlier.

Trapped in her own world, all of these sensations reach her as though from a great distance. A shiver passes through Lorwyn's being, the touch of archfey, whether real or remembered she cannot tell. Their wild, elemental ways, as cold as winter blizzards and as hot as summer tempests, envelope her soul, her pact made manifest.

From nowhere comes a sharp woman's voice:   "Hey, hey! Stay with me. Focus! Can you tell me where you are?"  

The voice snaps Lorwyn out of her reverie. It comes from below, and it is not directed at her. A young human woman is supporting a human man of similar age who appears to have drunk to much. The man is mumbling incoherently, drooling, the stench of alcohol discernible even from Lorwyn's spot on the roof. The woman is groaning while keeping the man from toppling. The man himself is doing his utmost to topple.

 [Lorwyn Suaril: Heal success.]  There is something wrong with the man, and it is not drunkenness. Or at least, it is not  just  drunkenness. Muscular weakness, difficulty swallowing, shallow breathing, unresponsive pupils—Lorwyn is hardly an expert healer, but more than just this man's liver is complaining about what he has been imbibing.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  It is a rustic but clean room that Delja was offered. The place has a large bed, a wash tub, a room divider, a dresser, a simple wooden table, and wooden seats around that. The standard amenities—fresh linens, towels, soap, candles, writing utensils—are provided. Two windows look out and down to a side street. There is a tailor's and bakery just across the way.

 [Delja Utorak: Spot success.]  Several scratches and dents on the wooden floorboard by the bed suggest its prior occupant rested a heavy shield and mace here none too gently.

 [Delja Utorak: Listen success.]  Room 24 sounds unoccupied. Across the hall in Room 23 a couple is arguing over being able to afford the tailor nearby. In Room 20, barely perceptible through the oak wallboards for all but the most superhuman of senses, is the distinct but soft sound of gentle scraping and viscous liquid sloshing—someone is taking care of a blade, sharpening it against a whetstone with honing oil.

Focusing on the sounds of Room 20, Delja with her unquestionably superhuman senses hears its occupant pause their bladework briefly, stand up, and pace for a moment. Delja notes the extremely subtle feature of the steps sounding unusually flat, the wooden floorboards not exhibiting the slight spring with each step one expects of treated wood. In other words, there are a lot of heavy things in Room 20 set on the floor, keeping the wood taut—insofar as wood can be, very subtly, taut.

The sounds of carriages and chatter outside filter through the windows of iron and glass.

 [Delja Utorak: Search success.]  [Delja Utorak: Move Silently success.]  Delja proceeds to search the room square foot by square foot. She does not have to move much to cover everything, being only necessary to slightly slide beds, chairs, and so on to give her better angles. She is quiet enough that, by her judgement, her activities would be indistinguishable from normal room use, even for those who could discern the delicate rearrangements she effects.

She finds little that stands out. An old wine stain here, a scratch there—of material interest, only an old book of prayers of the Morninglord in one of the drawers, its edges frayed, its cover worn from exposure, a copy of the Tome of Morning read in all Lathanderite temples across the Realms.

 [Delja Utorak: Knowledge (History) success.]  Feldepost's Inn is about as unremarkable as it gets, having little history Delja has heard of. Indeed, Beregost itself is unremarkable save for its place on the Trade Way, effectively a large caravanserai for merchants up and down the Sword Coast; and the charred, mysterious ruins of the Ulcaster School of Wizardry nearby, rumored to be haunted by creatures as appropriately strange as one expects of its conjurer founder, Ulcaster.


 

 Athkatla: Streets.  Varis and Aeric walk down the stone-brick-paved road outside the Moonhall. All around are the marble and granite edifices of the various gods, with elegant pathways and bridges set aside and elevated above water fountains and artificial streams. Holy statues and engravings beam proudly from before and upon the facades of the houses of the gods they represent. The crowds here are thin but ever present. Their scattered chatter is more calming than noisy in this environment.

Serenely stepping out of an alley between two shrines, Isera appears seemingly from nowhere. Her charcoal wings nowhere to be seen, she wears a cunning grin. Aeric can rarely read the disguised erinyes when she is like this.

In truth, Isera has probed her contacts in Avernus, and she has a few things to share, though in her usual drip-feed fashion.
namo
" What's our next step? Do you want me to look around? " Syana asks. In her mind, Ux is the leader of their mini-expedition (as in, first among peers) - for now at least.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  What's this guys problem?   Lorwyn thinks as she focuses her attention on the drunk.

 
 Spoiler 
 Detect Magic . Spellcraft check if needed  (1d20+15)[ 26 ] .
 
remetagross
  "I guess what we need is to look  up . The Lord of the North Wind is sending us a gust of air from above. I'm certain that's the way to go. Can't you feel it?"   Ux Utanar closes his eyes briefly, to better concentrate on the gentle stroke of wind against his cheek. He then unfurls his wings and, with his comrade, proceeds to spiral upwards, trying to trace back the origin of the current.
Metastachydium
Couple 23 are either rare acting talents or of little concern; and if room 24 isn't altogether empty, its occupants likely value their privacy even more than she does hers. This much is certainly comforting and helps solidify her hope that the Inn is really nothing more than it looks: safely boring. 20 gives her more pause. Not so much the blade being sharpened; it's been long since she had to truly worry about any blade, and showing one the care it needs to serve well is as reasonable as it is respectable. The strangely crowded arrangement she intuits from the noise, much unlike that of her own room, is the more curious matter here. There was this other inn that idiot Uzo made  explode  that once to get rid of that envoy's guard detail and…

It is almost certainly nothing of that sort this time around. Fortunately, she's not important and never was; and if she were, she wouldn't room here. She elects to simply keep an ear open and leave the mystery neoghbour otherwise  be  – which she would do even absent any suspicion she might have things to worry about. Investigating further would consume time and effort; and if she wanted time and effort consumed, she would now cruise the streets with Lorwyn. Instead, she settles on the floor, between the door and Wall 20, opposite the one with the window; sets two candles down, each a good couple feet away from her nearest knee and lays out the empty book and her vials of inks, and pens and all else she deems she will need before herself. And she sees to work.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

So, out comes the forger's kit and the very special spellbook between its wooden covers! She doesn't really have any appropriate Craft skills; but for the heck of it, I'll roll a couple things that might help her here:
Knowledge (nature):  (1d20+14)[ 33 ]  and
Survival:  (1d20+14)[ 32 ]  to augment what her experiences provide for the bit  On Swamps ;
a flat Intelligence check:  (1d20+7)[ 15 ] , I guess, to help correctly transcribe archaic Abyssal for the marginall notes on that for the Sylvan–Demodand interlinear conversation guide;
maybe Perform (dance) (yes, I know, and now, she's not actually dancing here):  (1d20+11)[ 17 ]  in case it helps with visualizing stuff for the diagrams in the Battle Dancing chapter or something; and, of course,
Bluff:  (1d20+21)[ 40 ]  to word things in a way that makes it all sound like she actually knows what she's talking about and It's Important
 
namo
Syana takes to the air, but stops at half the height of the room, surveying it while letting Ux confirm his intuition.

If it does not pan out, she'll incant one of her cherished spells:
" Silence of the wight
Knowledge of ages
An eagle's eyesight
Dazzle the world's stages ",
one that makes her good at pretty much anything, for a short time,
before resuming her shining form,
and spiraling seemingly at random along the walls, like a will-o-wisp,
when she in truth searches for the unseen passage.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Improvisation (SC), for +11 luck to up to 4 skill or ability checks. That brings her Search up to 17 (27 when taking 10) or perhaps a Wisdom check is more appropriate?
 
Taelas
Aeric nods in greeting as Isera walks up to them, bold as brass. " Well? Did the high and mighty high priestess help, or was it as much a waste of time as I suspected it would be? " she asks, her tone overly sweet.

"  She was actually,  " he replies, one corner of his mouth raised in a sardonic smile. "  She's going to show us to an auction, where we might acquire the access to Candlekeep that we need. Apparently they want books, the more rare and unique the better. She showed us an example.  "

" Oh? Well, why bother with an auction if she has one already? I could just go steal it, " she offers, nonchalantly.

The offer catches Aeric off-guard, and he looks at Varis for a moment before shaking his head and refusing.
paradox26
Varis studies Isera when she appears, though he is somewhat confused as to what sort of creature she is. Athas mostly has elemental creatures, and outsiders are virtually never seen or even heard of. At her suggestion of stealing a book, he ponders it briefly, before he looks at his companion and shakes his head slightly. It would not be safe or wise to steal from someone who might prove to be of future use to him.
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  Ux unfurls his wings and springs up, quickly stopping short as he notices the ceiling in this dark basement only having six feet on him. Ux rapidly presses downwards and descends in the cramped quarters, gliding back to the cold stone floor. Syana hovers in her tulani light form but not much higher than Ux. She begins searching along the walls for hidden passages by flitting in and out of the stonework.

She does not have to search long. Syana finds she is able to pass through the far wall, a hidden door of some sort, into a room.

The room is large and wondrous. Powerful winds circulate about the room, which itself is brightly lit by floating magical lights. The room itself is primarily stonework but awash in colors otherwise, with walls covered in bright, fluttering tapestries of abstract worlds, and floors covered by carpets of blue velvet with intricate geometric patterning. There is a lectern near the middle of the room, an arcane diagram drawn over an uncovered patch of stone in the dead middle, and over the diagram, a tear in the very fabric space, a shimmering doorway eight feet high through which one can see nothing but the bright blue open sky interspersed with distant clouds. It is through this breach that the winds rush forth, filling the room with cool, fresh air.

 [Syana: Search success.]  The hidden door is thick, several feet of stone, but by locating it she also readily locates its hidden mechanism, some manner of mixed arcane-mechanical contraption to move the stone, leading back to a concealed overlarge keyhole with a subtle arcane sigil drawn over it.


 

 Beregost: The Jovial Juggler.  Lorwyn opens her senses and immediately finds auras of  continual flame  on the nearby torches. No magic currently assails the drunken man.

The man starts blubbering with some alarm. With little further ado, he falls to his knees. At first the woman at his side frowns and begins to sound disapproval, but he then starts to vomit copiously, not the contents of his stomach but some slurry of blood and sloughs of tissue from his internal tracts. The woman screams, her voice carrying through the woods.

The man falls prone, soaked in gore. He is immobile and unresponsive.

Three bystanders rush over. The inn doors open as curious partygoers come to look at the source of the commotion. A noise of alarm and concern ripples out.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Delja begins writing. Depending on what she is writing specifically and the quality of her daily output, this could be a project spanning days and several drafts. For now, she begins today's eight-hours-worth of committed effort.

Describe the text she is writing: title, topic, author, length, scope, depth, and whatever else is material to its design. This sets the skill check DC, which will be an appropriate Craft check or an Intelligence ability check in lieu of having the requisite ranks. The skill rolls she has already made will be considered for potentially applying bonuses.


 

 Athkatla: Streets.  Isera reveals that her infernal contacts have tipped her off to a useful contact in Athkatla, the Iltarch and High Shadow Lord Rhinnom Dannihyr, of the Council of Six which rules Amn. The latter title—that Dannihyr is the reigning leader of the Shadow Thieves—is a very closely guarded secret and should not be revealed without good cause, for it would spell Dannihyr's certain death at the hands of the other members of the Council of Six, should he be exposed. This, Isera suggests, would make good leverage, if applied with tact.

Rumors swirl in the courts in Avernus that a demigod in hiding has passed through Athkatla as recently as weeks ago, and if anyone would have caught on to this, it would be the High Shadow Lord.

Isera is sparse with details of  what  these baatezu rumors say save that there was a demigod in this City of Coin. She snidely suggests that he may too have been searching for the Noctuary.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  That's gross.   Lorwyn makes a face of disgust as the man empties his insides onto the ground. She winces at the woman's scream and reapplies her invisibility glamor before teleporting back down to the ground, this time as far away from the Juggler as possible.   Gross and none of my business.   She thinks as she finds her way back to the road and starts heading towards town.   Let's get back before  she  gets too worried.  
 
 Spoiler 
Heading back to Feldepost's Inn, no special precautions or hiding once her invisibility wears off. Good luck, drunk guy!
 
Taelas
Aeric perks up at this. "  A  demigod ? Such beings wander the Realms? Good heavens!  " he exclaims; the expression causes Isera to give him a flat glare, though he merely shrugs it off.

He looks at Varis. "  Should we split up? You could look for rare tomes and books at Waukeen's Promenade, and I could seek out this Dannihyr. If the Shadow Thieves are as entrenched in the city as rumor suggests, he would be a good contact to have... and he may have a way into Candlekeep as well. Surely such a highly prominent purveyor of illegal goods and services would know where to find a suitable book that might be acquired -- for a price.  "
namo
Syana buzzes with excitement when she discovers the tear in space. But she intends to bring her companion over before she gives in to the temptation of studying it.
She studies the arcane symbol from as as far as she can - some runes can be tricky, of the explosive or mind-altering kind -, before approaching it.

Once she completes whatever method she deems necessary to deal with magical protections, she attempts to fit the key they found in the keyhole.


If she manages to let Ux in, she then goes to study the diagram, trying to understand its intricate structure and hence, perhaps, where the portal might lead.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
K Arcana  (1d20+20)[ 23 ] 
Spellcraft  (1d20+27)[ 38 ] 

Not sure how many Search checks were rolled; if she has some uses of Improvisation left she'll add +11 luck to these rolls too.
 
remetagross
After a few minutes going up and down, near and far, Ux Utanar must admit he has failed to locate the source of the gust of wind. He turns to Syana to ask her in Draconic if she had better luck.
  "Syana, je suis brocouille moi aussi -"  

Switching back to Common as he realizes she's not around here anymore:
  "Syana? Where are you?"  

He tries to peer through the air, but he fails to see the familiar glowing ball of light.
 Where has she gone? 
Metastachydium
Work, unfortunately, proves far more difficult a business than Delja estimated it'll be. It's not like she doesn't  know  what a pleasantly warm coastal swamp of familiarly fetid, thick decay from surface to bottom looks, works or feels like; nor was she ever anything but a smooth talker these last couple decades if she  really  wanted to be one. But an improvised little verbal diversion has little in the way of  structure  to it, in the manner required by the task of compiling an actual piece of writing with a head and tail to it. And it is bound to be very ugly, despite all the pretty inks she'll pour on it. She has to snatch up some of the sheets that came with the room, and even dig out her  other  empty book so as not to waste more of the good one than she must. She'd bet that if she could sweat, she'd be doing it now.

But then, even if her judgement and ability to  plan  coherently is still all too evidently impaired (a wonderful realization, albit, sadly, not an unexpected one) and Lorwyn,  wherever she even is  doesn't appear to treat making up for her shortcomings as a pressing priority, at least she has, for a change,  luck  on her side. The swamp bit shouldn't be that bad, and it's absolutely not important either; she's just putting it there to fill those pages. A good exercise, overall, before she'd mess up something that might  actually  matter…

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 On Swamps  is the first bit, and the title is rather descriptive. Delja means it to be a roughly 20 page treatise on swamps, especially coastal mixed/saltwater swamps, their general particularities (typical depth figures, layouts, size, favourable conditions for their emergence and their persisting as landscape types) and ecosystems, tactics for navigation through and hunting in them. Delja doesn't intend to specify who the author of any chapter is, nor is she going to reference other works much.

Stylistically, she just intends to clutter ugly angular letter after ugly angular letter on the page, using rubrication (and simple colour markings) and geometric separators to mark internal divisions within the text.

Since this is not a trap in a stricter sense, Delja has no trained Craft skill for the job, and is going to INT check it, hoping (insofar as she even  does  that) to make it work in roundabout ways:  (1d20+7)[ 20 ] 
 
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.   [Syana: Spellcraft success.]  Syana determines the sigil is similar to a trap, but not in fact a trap. It is joined to a magical circuit that gives connected mechanical gears and cogs the power needed to actually move the thick stone wall. The size and shape of the keyhole agree with the key the duo picked up earlier in the entrance hall.

She inserts the key in the hidden slot. There is a porcelain click, then the clockwork churning of gears. The heavy stone walls part smoothly and soundlessly, revealing a wide passage to the next room. What is not soundless, however, is the stream of cool air that immediately blasts Syana and Ux. Following light—ambient like daylight from an unseen sun—pours into the basement.

The basement is now fully lit. The air is fresh and cold, like from atop a snow-capped mountain in the early hours of a spring morning. The magical rift in the fabric of space, a great gate taller than either Ux or Syana, thrums before them with hidden power.


 

 Beregost: Streets.  As Lorwyn moves back to the town center, the commotion behind her fades. A nearby ranger appears to have heard it all and presently strides up the path at a near-run.  [Lorwyn Suaril: Move Silently success.]  Noting that invisibility is not the same as inaudibility, Lorwyn takes care not to be heard. Fortunately, it is not hard to hide from a mere mortal. The ranger may have been good, maybe even the best in the region, but he nonetheless had no chance whatsoever of hearing the hidden Lorwyn.

The rest of the trip back to Feldepost's Inn is uneventful.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  As Delja works, she realizes that she can make something substantial. She, of course, has no training in geography, but she is smart and knowledgeable on all matters natural. Together with her other competencies, she can piece together a compelling narrative.

 [Delja Utorak: Knowledge (Nature) success.]  Delja knows the ins and outs of wetland ecology. She can give a robust and rigorous account of its landscape, both as a figurative topic and as a literal feature.

 [Delja Utorak: Survival success.]  Delja can write a practical guide to navigating and understand the wetlands. The wetlands are, of course, not a desert or an ocean, and generally easy to forage. The difficulty here are the nuances of telling the presence of predators, of recognizing poisonous plants and venomous creatures, of knowing which fungi are edible and, of course, of knowing not to let fungi grow on one's boots.

 [Delja Utorak: Perform (Dance) failure.]  Delja attempts to visualize the shapes of physiology and choreograph the motions of drawing, but fails.

 [Delja Utorak: Bluff success.]  It is difficult to pretend to write as an expert to other experts. There are terms of art, a context of discussion, and a lot of small social nuances that clue in other experts to one's deception. It is comparatively trivial to convince the layfolk that one is an expert, one simply must write with an authoritative tone. A lesser bluffer would only consider trying the latter. Delja is not a lesser bluffer, and she is fairly certain she can attempt the former with some success.

Delja has begun her project. She has a clear concept and feels optimistic. Of course, it will be many days in before she can say with certainty whether she failed or succeeded. In the meantime, Lorwyn has arrived downstairs, been directed up by the waiting woman, and arrives at Delja's room.

An opposed Listen and Move Silently check from Delja and Lorwyn respectively will determine whether Delja hears Lorwyn's approach. Otherwise, Lorwyn technically lacks the key to the door, and will be standing outside.


 

 Athkatla: Streets.  Isera does not deign to share all she knows, or perhaps is unwilling to give away too much, but she shares this much. Demigods rarely walk among mortals, having a domain they are metaphysically compelled to administer in the Outer Planes. Rarely, that is, but not unheard of. Some demigods seek power in the mortal realms, where the threads of fate are primarily woven before echoing down along the currents of the Astral Sea to the rest of the Great Wheel. It is uniformly common for demigods to maintain disguise, so as not to excessively disrupt the divine compact.

They are powerful, Isera cautions, and a demigod desperate enough to venture out to the Material Plane would be akin to a cornered beast in temperament. On a lighter note, she adds that demigods have been slain by archdevils in the past. With a smile, she suggests that Aeric and Varis do not underestimate themselves.
paradox26
Varis considers the options, then nods slowly.  "Yes, splitting up might be a good idea. In my lands, if you want the illegal you would go to the Elven Quarter of any city. If you are brave enough to enter the district, of course. But I have the sense that the elves of this land are different from those in my homeland. We can meet again here, if you like. This is as easy a place to find as any. I will go to Waukeen's Promenade now,"  he says.
namo
" Come! COME! " Syana calls to Ux as soon as she opens the secret door. This time she has stayed in her Eladrin form, lending her an otherworldly beauty.
" Isn't it wonderful? "
She circles the room, practically dancing, and humming a happy tune in Draconic onomatopeias.
" paaaaw paw-paw-paw-paw paaaw paaw "
There's something in the air that feels  just right , and fills her body with energy; and of course her mind and heart are enchanted by the beautiful working of magic in front of her.

Once she settles down, she finally has the presence of mind to ask Ux:
" What now? I suppose you'll tell me to trust your goddess, and you'll rush straight in?

Know that I lack the divinations to know where the portal leads, but I do find myself filled with a measure of... faith. "


" Still, we'll have to close the door first. I wonder if we should put the key back where we found it... Or elsewhere in the building. It's not like the first passer-by would stumble upon this mechanism. "
remetagross
Ux Utanar gladly joins Syana, though it takes a second for him to register that she now displays a new appearance. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
  "He he he, well done! Well done indeed, that's a nice find!"    He laboriously proceeds upwards in a spiraling ascension, all the while appreciating the fresh breeze on his scales. Soon, the dragonborn has joined the Eladrin and gazes at the tear in the fabric of the Prime with her.

But he also looks around.
  "Believe me or not, the last time I was facing a planar breach to an unknown destination, it led me to a wrecked planar ship  filled with dead bodies, obyriths, and a Book of Vile Darkness. Which is still there for all I know, by the way. So let's see if we can figure out what's awaiting us from our surroundings."  

Ux Utanar carefully walks around the room, his wings folded to give less purchase to the strong winds around. In particular, he looks for a book or a parchment on the lectern, and tries to assert the nature of the diagram engraved on the floor.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "It's me."   Lorwyn says as she knocks on the door.   "Uh...Sara.  "   No use in trying to sneak in, this one is paranoid enough.     "Hope your still up, I don't actually have a key or anything."  
Metastachydium
Delja  almost  frowns at being interrupted, but is quick to realiz this is  exactly  what she really wanted Lorwyn to do. Come back, quick and alive. Things seem to  finally  be somewhere near the right track for her; irritation over getting what she wished for on top of suddenly succeeding at tasks would be thoroughly unfair. Rather unprofessional too. She stands, putting the quill aside for the moment and quietly slides over to the door, turning the key.   Had your fun already?   – she cannot resist asking at least that much; but her tone is neither truly hostile, nor even pointed. Mostly just tired, in fact, but nearly conversational, if flat. She has to admit, if only to herself, that the notion of her actually  sleeping  here is very close to amusing her, at some level. But the clear crystal now orbiting her head should be answer enough to Lorwyn on that count; instead of delving any deeper into that, she merely hones her ears to make sure Lorwyn's arrival had not caught any attention keener than hers. One can never know.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

No, no, Delja is not paranoid at all! She's merely Moving Silently to the door so that nobody can accurately determine where she was sitting beforehand:  (1d20+15)[ 25 ] ;
and Listening for other listeners:  (1d20+25)[ 37 ] 
like a normal person!
 
namo
Syana tilts her head, briefly beholding Ux. But no, he's not the type to lie, though like anyone he can exaggerate or just provide partial accounts.
" You'll have to tell me more about it. Perhaps, after we find the Noctuary, we can revisit that place with a different outcome. "

She smiles a secret smile as he takes the tack opposite hers, aiming for caution when she was being bold - perhaps the reverse of the usual stance for each of them.
  This is a funny dance we dance - getting close then snapping farther apart, but always tethered by some invisible link.  
" Alright, I'll lend you a hand. What do you know of magic, after all? " she teases.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
K Arcana 30
Spellcraft 37
K The Planes 32
(taking 10)

same as before, if she has unused Improvisation rolls, she can use them for +11 luck to one or more of those checks.
 
remetagross
  "It would be a pleasure to do so. I have unfinished business there...but you know how these go. You never find the time to backtrack and tie the loose ends. I mean, if you do find the time, please tell me the trick!"   adds a grinning Ux.

  "And yeah, I'm definitely a beginner as far as magic is concerned...I'll gladly have your expert eye. But I'm getting there!"  

Ux proceeds around, happy to chit-chat with Syana all along. Who said that high-level spellcaster must always be dead-serious gloomy savants?
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "Hardly."   Lorwyn says as she settles into the room. She flops onto the bed and works her boots off, letting them drop onto the floor.   "I followed some kids going to a party but decided against going inside. Just sat for awhile. Some guy got sick so I left"   She looks around at the writing materials.   "You've been busy."  

Lorwyn frowns.   "You really think you can write a book that will get us in there?"   She asks and rattles off a few more questions that have evidently been brewing for awhile.   "Is anyone expecting your book already? I hope you've got someone there that at least knows you plan to drop this thing off."  
  "And what are your companions doing? You haven't really mentioned a lot about them..."   She says and then raises her hands.   "Not that it's really my business what they get up to, but  you  are my business at the moment. Until this thing - whatever it is - is over. Or at least until the Court says otherwise."     Who do you take orders from, I wonder?  
Metastachydium
Delja shrugs and locks the door before plopping back down by her papers.   Yes; and no.   she tells Lorwyn, quite matter-of factly.   They'll take the book; or they won't. Doesn't matter much.   she explains with a dry conviction that comes out clear and strong enough to surprise her, even, sticking to the easiest subject raised, for now. It's not like she'd be  here  if she had the vaguest idea where Ux Utanar even is, and she's  not  going to shill Myriad to Myriad, on the odd chance that's Myriad.   Because if they won't, I planned for it. And planned for that plan failing as well.   she lifts and examines a piece of paper, then tosses it back down.   This just happens to be the single cheapest way to go about it, and the easiest to top that off. All it takes is time, some coin and a quiet place close enough to all the busy places.   another piece of paper is moved closer to the candlelight.   Which we've secured already, if you can be  bothered  to pay the innkeeper in the morning.   She rolls her left shoulder lazily; but stops mid-movement, a scowl taking shape on her face as a thought occurs to her. Speaking of  quiet …   …did you say you left a  tavern  because someone got  sick ?   Either Lorwyn's weird enough to have never seen a drunk man; or…
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  With the wind around him roaring and pulling at his tunic, Ux takes a quick look around. The lectern is empty.  [Ux Utanar: Spellcraft success.]  [Ux Utanar: Knowledge (Arcana) failure.]  Inspecting the rift, then the arcane diagram beneath it, Ux can at most assess that the diagram is a vestigial thing. If he erased it now, the rift would probably remain. As to its purpose, such things elude him.

 [Syana: Spellcraft success.]  [Syana: Knowledge (Arcana) success.]  The arcane diagram is a focus for teleportation magic, but the rift in space is itself not teleportation magic. If it is magic at all, it might be a type of evocation magic, but the longer Syana studies it, the more she is certain that whatever the rift is, it is beyond normal magic. Yes, it could be a  gate  spell, but its magic is not fluctuating or dissipating the way magic usually does. It is stable in a way that is indistinguishable from one of the color pools of the Astral Sea. The way it presents reminds her  mythals  of all things, and it might be an instance of  true dweomer , more commonly known as epic magic.

The realization dawns as winds rush around and encircle the changeling, a whisper from the Lady of Air seemingly affirming Syana's trained intuition.

 [Syana: Knowledge (The Planes) success.]   As open as an eternal sky, as solid as the lightest breath, it is falling forever.  With skies above and below, clouds billowing from great banks unseen and swelling into great thunderheads, and winds pulling with primal fervor—this is the Elemental Plane of Air. By the looks of it, the portal deposits travelers in the middle of nowhere. There are no features to be seen save for clouds all the way to the horizon. A pearly blue radiance suffuses the world and spills out through the rift, casting light everywhere.

This strikes Syana as strange—this point of reality is known to be close to the Fugue Plane, not the Plane of Air.

As for the door, neither Ux nor Syana at first find a means of closing it. But as moments pass, a clockwork ticking can be heard, then the doors swing silently shut on their own. From inside it is almost as if they are trapped, but a firm push of the wall causes its mechanism to activate and open again—then of course shut in another few moments.


 

 Beregost.  ( Highharvestide 1374 DR. Lorwyn Suaril and Delja Utorak. ) We are moving to a daily time format. In this format you will announce your activities for the day, but you can of course include snippets of individual moments and interact with other people and things as usual.

The nixie moves across the room silently and listens intently.  [Delja Utorak: Listen success.]  The couple across the hall have stopped arguing. The individual in Room 20 sharpening their blade has stopped. It is now quiet save for the passing people and carriages outdoors, without a sound out of place, but it is not lost on Delja that the Room 20 individual went silent just as Lorwyn's footsteps sounded down the hall.

 
 Spoiler: Beregost 
 Beregost.  Set amid expansive farmlands dotted with windmills, overlooked by large ruins atop a rocky hill, the town of Beregost sits nestled at the foot of the hill, protected by walls of stone with wooden parapets patrolled at all times of day by archers. Beregost's buildings are some mix of townhouses and free-standing lodges, with quaint two- or three-story facades of stone foundations and oaken supports speaking of urban Baldurian influence. The place is prosperous from the high trade traffic that passes through, being one of the major stops between the northern and southern regions. There are countless residences and shops, though little in the way of community buildings save for a town hall. Notable locations include:

 
  The Song of the Morning.  A large temple-fort with distinctive high walls and rose-red spires. This is a church of Lathander the Morninglord. It is the most prominent building in Beregost. 
  High Hedge.  Technically outside the walls of Beregost proper. This is the estate of Thalantyr the Conjurer, a mysterious but deeply respected wizard in these parts. 
  Thunderhammer Smithy.  Regarded as one of the greatest blacksmiths in all of Faerûn, Taerom "Thunderhammer" Fuiruim runs this store out of quiet Beregost, serving visitors from as far north as Neverwinter, as far east as the Dalelands, and as far south as Tethyr; and even beyond. 
  The Burning Wizard.  A bustling inn and tavern catering to travelers and locals alike. Always lively but never overboard. 
  Feldepost's Inn.  An old and comfortable place known best to locals. Has a long history. 
  The Red Sheaf.  An inn and tavern catering to merchants and their ilk. Its managers are reputed to be well-connected up and down the Sword Coast. 
  The Jovial Juggler.  A club where the younger locals go after a day's worth of hard work. One can hear its revelry from down the street and—to the chagrin of many—at all times of day. 
  Ruins of the Ulcaster School of Wizardry.  Also outside Beregost's walls proper, this complex of burned ruins atop the hill looms day and night. Local rumors speak of it being haunted, of adventurers seeking their glory within but never emerging. It is a little off the beaten path but not hard to reach. 
 
 


 

 Athkatla.  ( Highharvestide 1374 DR. Varis of Tyr and Aeric Hartford. ) The City of Coin and capital of Amn, and a merchant and naval power of Faerûn. A sprawling, fortified metropolis of grand, theatrical architectures, skylines dominated by domes, pediments, and cruciform towers. The port is buried beneath a crowd of sails great and small. A river cuts the city in two, with a soaring bridge-district crossing overhead casting a mountainous shadow upon the ships below. Proper mountain peaks as tall as the thick clouds borne by the currents of the Sword Coast can be seen in the distance to the north and south—if the adobe and clay roofs of the two-, three-, four-plus-story townhouses squeezing Athkatla's narrow avenues do not block one's view of the sky. The sounds of seagulls and distant crowds permeate the air.

The list of notable locales has been updated.

 
  Arbalest's House.  A collegial temple to Milil, headed by the mysterious Patriarch of Song. 
  Dome of the Rose.  A monastery and temple to Lathander, headed by the quiet and pious Mornmaster Thaddin Dawnhunter. 
  Moonhall.  A gorgeous temple to Selûne, headed by the shrewd High Priestess Aryn Gallowglass. 
  The Mithrest.  An old, cultured, and stylish inn. Proud and luxurious. 
  Den of the Seven Vales.  A fairly pricy inn and tavern for well-to-do travelers and merchants. Leans into the cosmopolitan nature of Athkatla. 
  The Five Flagons.  A drink house run by experts in all things alcohol. 
  The Seas' Bounty.  For youths both poor and monied. Expect students, socialites, and musicians at this inn. 
  Silverale Hall.  Solid inn with a trusted local reputation. Known for good food and company, and not too busy at that. 
  Delosar's.  An old inn popular with military and legal figures. 
  The Adamantine Mug.  A congregation place for travelers and merchants of modest means but high ambition. 
  The Copper Coronet.  A dark place where the undercurrents of society gather. Expect smugglers and pirates at this inn and tavern. 
  Lathander's Estates.  A landowning and exploration company. Funds colonies in distant lands. 
  Giant's Eye Traders.  Famed caravan company, willing to attempt expeditions most others would balk at. 
  Crymmar's Holdings.  A large trading and private military company. Handles a majority of commodities and crafted goods imports and exports in Amn. 
  Rose's Bounties.  Bulk trading company, predominantly food items, plus a large, professional shipping fleet. 
  The Thousandheads.  An international trading coster and private military company. Based in Waterdeep. 
  Green Fields Consortium.  Another international trading coster, though without much of an armed component. Based in Cormyr, and well-connected with nobility. 
  Sybarr Spices.  As its name suggests, a trading coster primarily trafficking spices, though all luxury goods are its domain. 
  Council House.  An old fortress said to date back to the days of the Shoon. Grand and imposing, Amn's ruling Council of Six reign from here. 
  Waukeen's Promenade.  Sitting at the city's center, this immense tower of terraces hosts one of the busiest bazaars on the continent. Almost any deal one could hope to make can be closed and cleared here. 
 
We are moving to a daily time format. In this format you will announce your activities for the day, but you can of course include snippets of individual moments and interact with other people and things as usual.
namo
" This is Epic magic " Syana whispers, awed. She can count on the fingers of one hand (six - she's a shapeshifter, she can cheat) the number of times she's seen this powerful a mortal spell - as close to deific power as one can get, yet so far still. She has been studying what she could find about it, but it's out of her reach at the moment.
  Of course this plane is much more rife with remnants of epic magic than many others, but even so, what a rare and wondrous find!  

" And it leads to the Plane of Air. I'd suspect treachery but for that wind we've been feeling; a portal can be obscured or redirected but this pure wind would be perhaps harder to fake.
What to say about it... Er. Expect to use your wings, and storms, and... And I wonder why our path goes through there. But I can never guess the twists and turns. "

One last thought strikes her as she prepares to cross the threshold:
" What should I do with the key? Leave it in the mechanism? Or put it back where we found it? Whoever made this would perhaps not be pleased at our intrusion. Though there is a remarkable lack of protection measures apart from that magically-enhanced gear door. "
Chambers
 Lorwyn
 
A certain amount of belligerance is to be expected. Lorwyn weathers Delja's attitude without a reaction.   "I'll pay what she's owed, yes."   She says and counts out sets of coins on the table.   "Your backup plans...if I knew what they were I might be able to help with them as well. Though if all you need is someone to carry your coins, that's your business I suppose."  

She pauses at Delja's question.   They focus on the strangest things.     "Well, he was probably drunk also..."   She says and resumes counting out coins.   "In addition to whatever was causing him to vomit up his intestines. It looked like he needed a priest, not me, so I left before it got crowded."  
 
 Spoiler 
I'm fine just chatting for awhile, no plans otherwise right now.

 Edit:  Scratch that, Lorwyn's plan is to get Delja to tell her  her  plans!
 
Metastachydium
Delja puts her papers down for a moment to frown at empty wall.  People vomiting up their intestines?  All she needs in her life right now is her supposedly safe temporary hideout quarantined to tackle some ridiculous lowlife plague; or an investigation into odd foreigners passing through dur to some genius playing the fancy poisoner in the outbacks. They could cut and murder their way out of each of those if things go very sour, but the Nixie isn't quite sure if Lorwyn could stomach that; and she's rather sure she herself doesn't  want to  right now.   Odd. But good of you to come back.   she says simply, nevertheless, filing the incident as something to quickly think through nowabouts.   Still, as for spare plans… You'll know before they'd come up.   she adds, quite conversationally, but vigorously motioning with her whole head towards the wall shared with room number 20, to signal it's really not the place or the time.   Don't worry too much about that for the moment.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

I don't know if Delja, the cagey twit that she is, can be any more cler about that without spelling it out, but since I like to roll anyhow, Bluff:  (1d20+21)[ 24 ]  to convey the super-secret message of "someone in the next room over might be listening; talk about that later"
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

She looks back and forth between Delja and the wall, finally picking up what the fey means.   "You think someone is listening next door? You're  that  paranoid?"   She says, then sighs and gets up, walks over to the wall. She knocks on the wall and then says loudly   "Excuse me, we're trying to have a secret conversation about books. Can you pretend you don't hear anything? I'll buy you breakfast. Knock twice if you agree, thanks."  

She turns back to Delja.   "I'm sure it's fine now. I'm not worried, really, I just feel useless."   She says and shrugs.   "Like a windup toy waiting to be released. You ever feel that way, like someone else is in charge of you?"  
Metastachydium
A short silence follows, then Delja's face twitches slightly, heralding another short pause.    Sara?    she then says.   If I'll ever have the  hands  that takes, I'll just strangle you  in your sleep .   She is suddenly all too tired to even feel as angry as she would like too, and sounds the part.   And if you ever  imply  I'm a toy again, I might also strangle you. Clear?   she stares at Lorwyn, more like someone who just stated some commonly known, if noisome fact, than someone who's just delivered a death threat.   You can talk the rest over at breakfast with your new friend.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Poor Delja is now even more certain than ever that she's stuck with Myriad again! But really don't worry about the strangulation threat; I can  still  assure you she'll never really ever have two free hands, plus unlike her, I still very much find Lorwyn funny.

Meanwhile, I just knew I was forgetting something: Knowledge (nature) on infectious diseases (and poisons, insofar as the roll is applicable) that might make one puke up one's intestines:  (1d20+14)[ 19 ] 
 
remetagross
Ux, being less versed in all things arcane than Syana, is unable to fully grasp the truly extraordinaire in the sighting of an epic spell. Still, something that can make her  gape  like that should not be underestimated. He raises his eyebrows high upon listening to her explanations, which makes him look like a lizard with antlers.

  "An Epic spell, you say? Better be cautious, then - whatever cast it might be right on the other side of that portal, or is going to be remote-warned that we crossed it wherever they are. But why this breach is located inside a teleportation diagram is beyond me...I guess someone - a powerful someone - in the plane of Air was not too happy about that teleportation circle right there, and decided to come in and put an end to it?"   

He paces around the hole in reality, wings furled, basking in the powerful gust.

  "I think the key should go back. No trace of our passage then, and it might be of some use for us to leave it outside the door in case we need to guide people to this place. Can you put it back there? I will not be able to get back in before the doors close again."  

Ux Utanar then sits down, facing the passage to the plane of Air, and meditates.
  Why there? Why, o Bahamut? What is the connection to the Noctuary? What connection do  I  have with this plane? Ah -    as he remembers that his late partner Ereshki was an heir of the Plane of Air.
  ...after all this time, everything still brings me back to you, it seems.  
namo
" It is a matter of speculation, but I assume the circle is part of the ritual to create, and perhaps maintain this as a permanent portal, rather than the action of a third party. " Syana replies, in gentle contradiction.

Syana concurs with Ux and, assuming she manages to extract the key from the mechanism, makes use of her incorporeality to retrace her steps and put they key back where she found it.
She then rejoins her companion, and they cross the threshold. Syana goes in first, in incorporeal shape - unless Ux starts a tirade on chivalry and requests to go first.
Taelas
Following Isera's suggestion, Aeric goes to seek out Lord Rhinnom Dannihyr.
remetagross
Ux Utanar's chivalry days are behind him, and he knows better than to think he is more protected against danger than a high-level spellcaster with a bazillion active spells on her, one of them  Shapechange .

  "Thank you for having put the key back."   he simply adds matter-of-factly.

And he unfurls his wings, and lets himself drop through.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  What!?   Lorwyn is caught completely off-guard by the death threat. She furrows her brow as she makes certain that she heard what she heard.   Of course. Naturally.   Lorwyn regains her composure and settles back into herself. 'Sara' is gone; Lorwyn's face now is a predator looking at competition.   "Maybe you'll have found your manners in the morning."   She says and disappears.

 
 Spoiler 
Dimension Door, to the roof. She'll sneak around and find an empty stable and sleep there for the night.
 
paradox26
 Varis of Tyr 

Varis decides to head for Waukeen's Promenade, as that sort of bazaar is often the best place to find the rare and expensive. He wanders through the city, getting directions to find the Promenade from the locals he passes. He keeps his eyes open as he makes his way there, hoping to find sight of a rare bookstore on the way, but content not to find one until he gets to the Promenade.
chaincomplex
 Waterdeep: The Cynosure.  Syana returns the key to the rafters above the main hall and returns to the portal room without issue, using her incorporeal form to pass through the now-closed hidden doorway. She finds Ux just about standing from his meditation.

As for Ux's part, though his meditations conjured unanswered questions, they also brought him a measure of peace as he thought of Ereshki, even with the powerful winds circulating around him, tugging his fabrics every which way. An unusually gentle pocket of warm air wafted up and gently brushed Ux's face, a touch from air spirits unseen, an affirmation of his connection to Ereshki.

Then Ux stands, and together with Syana they face the portal. Ux steps through first, then Syana second, and they are both enveloped in the weightlessness of pure air.

 Plane of Air.  As soon as the duo step into the new world, with their flight abilities they manage to maintain their position just next to the portal. The portal is still active, appearing as a violently torn rift floating in the middle of space, a window to the hidden chamber on the Material Plane.

The Plane of Air itself, or whichever locale the duo finds themselves in now, is a world of endless blue. An ambient daylight saturates this world as far as the eye can see. Light cloud formations drift above and below, but in the great distance the massive thunderheads they saw before from through the portal now loom menacingly, promising that the plane is not as harmless as it first seemed.

Just as Ux and Syana are getting their bearings, a series of loud  pop! s resound and four beings teleport in before the duo. At a glance they must be genie—humanoid, ten feet tall, skin as blue as a dusk sky, with powerful builds and regal bearings. Swords are sheathed at their sides but none make moves to draw. They regard the duo with a mixture of uncertainty and apprehension.

  "I greet you, visitors,"   rumbles the first under his bushy beard.   "Are you the masters of this portal?"  

 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  After Lorwyn banged on the wall, the adjacent room went silent for a minute. Then the noises resumed, but rather than the sharpening of steel, these were the sounds of moving crates, of their opening and closing with nails, pliers, and hammers. There is no urgency to the activity, and they continue at a leisurely pace without end.

 [Delja Utorak: Knowledge (Nature) success.]  Extreme hemorhhaging could include vomiting up intestinal lining, usually corresponding to toxins known to cause substantial tissue damage. That said, such a symptom is still rare, given that substantial tissue damage takes a while to build up for most toxins, which will typically kill through other means long before a victim starts vomiting up their literal stomach.

This observation makes Delja suspect a poisoning rather than some illness.

 Beregost.  In the meantime, Lorwyn searches the neighborhood. It is unusually tricky to find a tucked-away corner to sleep in without interruption. Beregost sits on flat land, and its town is not dense enough to create too many blind spots in the lines of sight of passersby.

 [Lorwyn Suaril: Knowledge (Local) success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Hide success.]  Nonetheless Lorwyn knows that towns like these tend to have lightly frequented barns, storage sheds, and windmills on the outskirts. After about an hour of wandering, she comes upon the pastoral hilly northwestern outskirts of Beregost, and a gently turning windmill within which she can get some shuteye, if behind a stack of crates on a cold, wood floor.

The crops look too early for the farmers to be making use of these anyhow, so she probably will not be bothered in the morning when the workers come to the fields.

If either Delja or Lorwyn have any other plans for the day, mention them; or the next update will advance time.


 

 Athkatla.  Aeric wanders Athkatla looking for Rhinnom. This turns out to be more difficult than expected. First, as expected, Isera has minimal interest in joining Aeric in this mundane task, and she takes the first opportunity to wander off. Second, Rhinnom is simply not a known name. It appears to be the case that Isera is privy to some of Athkatla's deepest secrets, for the ruling Council of Six are no less secretive than the Shadow Thieves who Isera claims Rhinnom also leads. Indeed, at Aeric's inquiries most guards and citizens simply laugh and inform him that his odds of finding a member of the Council of Six are near zero.

 [Aeric Hartford: Gather Information success.]  [Aeric Hartford: Knowledge (Local) success.]  Aeric cannot locate any member of the Council of Six, which is to be expected, nor does Rhinnom make himself known in any public venue. Moreover, the Shadow Thieves are secretive, so Aeric cannot directly locate their leadership. This is also to be expected. But Aeric manages to snag two leads in spite of these setbacks. First, all organized crime has street-level fences and enforcers, and he quickly locates a number of establishments associated with the Shadow Thieves: the inn  Seas' Bounty , the tavern  Adamantine Mug , and of course the unsavory gathering spot  Copper Coronet , though any child could have guessed the last one. Second, Rhinnom may not be known, but some city registries list the Dannihyr merchant family in various capacities as caravan masters, jewelry specialists, and so on. The Dannihyrs appear to be based out of Eshpurta, a city of the east of Athkatla.

In the meantime, Varis makes his way to Waukeen's Promenade. This "promenade" is in truth a sprawling market place as vertical as it is horizontal, with something alike multiple chained half-coliseum layouts supporting an uncountable mosaic of shop tents, stalls, popup cart-stores, thronged with well over a thousand people moving along and up and down the narrow paths between shops. The din of the crowd fills the air.

It is trivial for Varis to locate book merchants here. In fact, there are too many, all vying for his attention the moment he shows even an iota of interest. What kind of book merchant does Varis look for?
Taelas
With a nonchalant attitude, Aeric walks into  The Adamantine Mug . His armor's glamer is altered to look like modest but well-to-do clothes, fitting for a successful merchant. At first, he merely listens to the general mood of the common room, trying to gauge who might be with the Shadow Thieves.

Then he makes some discreet inquiries about the Dannihyr family.
Metastachydium
Delja stares for a moment at where an unusually threatening Lorwyn has been a moment ago, then slowly looks around and shrugs. It could've gone worse. She'll have to keep in mind that she can't expect Myriad-style answers from her new companion even if she  is  Myriad, but that's… Manageable. And if the sudden onset death-vomiting Lorwyn talked about is really poison as she begins to suspect, that's not ideal either, but better than a plague. She was  here  all along, after all.

A few long moments pass, and she waits. But Number 20 doesn't seem to try and come over; nor does Lorwyn return with murderous intent. That's good. They'll have to have a walk and a  real  talk in the morning; but Dlja decides Lorwyn will  really  be back in the morning, and to, accordingly, not worry about that. She'll explain things and maybe Lorwyn will calm down. Or not, and they'll do something about it. A task for tomorrow. Right now, she has more writing to do, if she'll lose the day that comes. And she'll make as good a use of it as the distractions allow.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Ready to move on, and sorry again about Delja being Delja, Chambers! I have a plan for clearing things up, if/when Lorwyn comes back. It might spice things up too a bit.
 
namo
Syana takes a deep breath after crossing the portal and, turning to Ux: " See, that went we- " just as they get instantly surrounded.
She is about to unleash a torrent of magic when the sight of sheathed swords, and the lack of any incantation, give her pause.

Her form blurs and changes to that of a Solar, an angel of terrible might more equal in size to their hosts, but her arms do not stray from the defensive position she instinctively adopted. She is aiming for diplomacy backed by power.

She does not like this kind of surprise, but she supposes they are intruders here, in a way, so she must keep her temper reined in.
" Greetings " she can't quite keep an edge from her voice, but her words are polite, and the delivery becomes more graceful with each word.
" We are  not . We stumbled upon it in our quest, but we know not who created it.

I hope we have not given offense merely by using it. "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
free action to change shape
Diplomacy:  (1d20+22)[ 40 ] 
 
chaincomplex
 Plane of Air.  At Syana's polymorphing into an angel, the genies do double takes, and one drifts slightly back instinctively. They already wear fairly apprehensive expressions however and this does little to change that, only causing them to share glances. Though buffeted by the strong winds, the genies bob lightly, almost perfect in their control over their flight.

 [Syana: Diplomacy success.]  The first genie holds a hand up, palm facing forward, a gesture of peace.   "On the contrary. All peaceful travelers are welcome to our world. Your gateway, if you are not its creator, is strange indeed, for it seems as if you are the first to use it."  

One of the other genies rumbles in a deep murmur.   "It is  true dweomer  indeed... O brother, it feels to me as the color pools of the Great Astral Sea do... and it reeks of the dead and the gods... I do not think it was meant for our world. It is a castaway, a remnant of a great yet invisible battle..."  

A flash of concern shows on first genie's expression.   "This deserves further study. But let us attend to our guests first. Travelers, we do not normally offer these welcoming committees. The Farseeing Eyes of the Four Winds alerted us to your arrival, as it does for all travelers borne by powerful magic, so that His Boundless Eminence Husam al-Balil can know all that transpires within his domain. Imagine our surprise when we learned of the epic magic that carried you to our world. We were... curious as to the identities of our esteemed guests, who must be great indeed to weave such spellcraft. And now they say they merely  stumbled  upon this gateway. Help this one understand, travelers. What is the nature of your quest, and are you certain you know nothing of this portal's creation?"  

 

 Beregost.  Delja passes time in her room into the evening. At some point, with the orange streaks of dusk blazing across the sky above and the noises of workers closing shop below, her rest is interrupted by a sudden thud by one of the windows. A quick inspection reveals that a bird has apparently crashed right into the window, leaving a streak of blood and feathers, its injured body resting on the bottom of the window frame. It is twitching and breathing quickly, but making little noise.


 

 Athkatla.  Looking like two or three townhouses smashed together just a short jaunt off a primary thoroughfare, the Adamantine Mug is an establishment that does not advertise itself too expressively, bearing only a stylized drawing of a mug on a hanging sign to announce that it is not just a residence. Still, it bears the same quiet elegance of its neighborhood, neither gaudy and overpriced, nor a place where poor behavior is tolerated.

Walking in, Aeric finds the establishment's interior a witness to a lot of history. Plaques and tapestries commemorating persons and events from some long-past local history hang everywhere haphazardly, and statuettes, decorative flourishes, vases, and so on collected from countless cultures are displayed proudly with little thought for aesthetic consistency. The place is no less elegant inside than outside, and astoundingly quiet for a supposed tavern. There is a main hall with a bar. Here there are only two groups of patrons occupying each their own table. They are dressed modestly but well, somewhere in-between courtiers and clerks. A young, evidently athletic human man tends to the bar. Off to the side halls there are private rooms.

 [Aeric Hartford: Gather Information failure.]  [Aeric Hartford: Bluff failure.]  [Aeric Hartford: Sense Motive success.]  Aeric's attempts at opening conversation are rebuffed with polite stonewalling by the barkeep. He is told repeatedly that what he seeks cannot be found here. Aeric makes a decent attempt at being subtle about Dannihyr family—at least  he  thought so—but Aeric quickly senses that his attempts at probing the Dannihyr's legitimate businesses are still alarming some of the unspeaking guests. And the guests—it is not lost on Aeric that they are listening intently to Aeric's queries.

It is not long before Aeric is politely but firmly requested to leave. Aeric gets the feeling that this interaction is going to get reported to someone.
Metastachydium
Delja manages to stop her sharp little teeth from grinding together in frustration, if only barely. Even the local wildlife hates her now, and wants to keep her from getting around to have work done.  Lorwyn  can talk to these things. Could this just be Lorwyn trying to annoy her out of  spite , she wonders? Well, hopefully not. She might  care , nevertheless. And in that case, Delja might as well just demonstrate how very merciful and cooperative she can get if she  really  wants to look like that. She had the opportunity to get som e practice in that field, what with Ux being Ux and around for all that time.  That was horrible.  And she really misses Ux Utanar regardless.

She sighs and opens the window, laying a light left hand at the little body with a blur of motion, tapping her right wrist against her belt.   Go away, bird.   she tells the bird; and she reaches up to close the window once more.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

I'll assume Delja and her +26 to touching things will be enough to touch a prone BIRDY with no reason to object other than perhaps fear; if so, the birdy is belt-healed for  (2d8)[ 6 ]  hp.
 
namo
Syana tries to parse the magic behind the words.
" Your mages have wrought a divination that covers your entire demesne to warn them of any arrival matching certain conditions? Over countless spans of air? That seems an incredible achievement as well. "
She had assumed at first the genies were there because the portal was known and watched, but it seems their hosts discovered it when Ux and she arrived.

She turns to consider the portal from this side, then turns back, frowning.
" We are the first to use it? This is not what I expected.
To pour so much power into a working and then let it sit unused... As you say, it must come from a different time, way before mine, with different pressures at work, which we can only imagine.

So, indeed, we know next to nothing about its history. We come from Faerun if you want to know, from the great city Waterdeep whose reputation may have crossed  some  planar boundaries...? "

She reflects on what she may have heard of their genie sultan.
If she can remember nothing untoward - and for now their manners are certainly spotless - she redirects them:
" I will let my companion introduce his divine quest. "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
K Planes:  (1d20+22)[ 28 ] 
 
Taelas
Aeric raises his hands in a defensive, non-hostile gesture and takes a step back. "  Now, now, there's no need for that,  " he says, in a soothing tone. "  I mean no one any harm. I am merely interested in meeting a certain someone, to... have a little chat, about a possible business proposition. I am afraid I do not know the proper channels, as I am new to this plane in general and this city in particular.  "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Attempting a Diplomacy check.
Diplomacy:  (1d20+24)[ 44 ] 
 
remetagross
 
 Spoiler: Tongue-in-cheek 

 
 Originally Posted by chaincomplex 
 What is the nature of your quest?"[/B][/COLOR] 
 

 To seek the Holy Grail! 
 


Ux Utanar bows with great respect at the sight of the genies. It is quite a feat of airborne mastery to pull off such a maneuver  in the air. 
  "I am Ux Utanar tibur Randall Amblecrown, Dragonborn of Bahamut. I do not know anything about the origin of this portal, unfortunately. I, too, am surprised to hear we are the first to ever come through. As to my quest, well, I have been sent to Waterdeep by Bahamut, Lord of the North Wind, the Platinum Dragon, to seek a mystical place some call the  Noctuary .  
namo
Syana gives a little start at hearing Ux mention the Noctuary.
  Wait, I thought we agreed not to mention it.

...or not. Was that in my head? Get out of your own head, woman!  

She then attempts to regain her composure, settling for some side eye aimed at Ux who will probably not notice it.
chaincomplex
 Plane of Air.  A third genie speaks.   "The Farseeing Eyes are  true dweomer  and powerful magic indeed. But magic like this is necessity for lords such as His Boundless Eminence, for how else could they administer their impossibly expansive domains? You will find that other great elemental lords have wrought similar spellcraft."  

The first genie nods and says,   "We know of Waterdeep. Indeed we know much of Faerûn, thus our Common. But even those among us who are sheltered have heard of Waterdeep, for we often have dealings with your Khelben the Blackstaff and Aurora the Sorceress. I... have not heard of this 'Noctuary,' however."   He looks to his companions.

The second genie shakes his head.   "The name has meaning... but I cannot see it."  

The third and fourth genies share a quizzical look. The former speaks.   "The Lord of the North Wind's reach extends throughout our world, but his actual domain is in Celestia. And to my knowledge, there is no place called the 'Noctuary' here."  

The first genie shakes his head.   "In any case, something must be done about this portal. Stay or leave, travelers, but I pray you use this portal no more. It is epic magic, and one must be appropriately suspicious when epic magic is used where a ninth-or-lower-circle spell would have sufficed."  

The third genie nods grimly.   "I can confirm that this portal bears not the mark of the Platinum Dragon. Our brother spoke true when he said this one is touched by death—the Fugue Plane is near. We may have to disjoin this magic to protect our plane."  
 [Syana: Knowledge (The Planes) success.]  Husam al-Balil ben Nafhat al-Yugayyim, often just called His Boundless Eminence, is an epic genie sorcerer who rules from his throne within the impossible architectures of the Citadel of Ice and Steel. He is the  de facto  ruler of the known skies of the Plane of Air and regarded among the greatest spellcasters across the known planes. He is often characterized by his tempestuous temperament, but is said to be possessed of a strong desire that the genie race prospers and becomes a force for good across the planes.


 

 Beregost.  After its injuries vanish under the current of magic, the bird—a small thing of autumnal colors—simply looks up at Delja with dumb, uncomprehending eyes. It takes a few dozen heartbeats to recognize that it is well enough to fly, then without further ado, it takes off for the sky, its small shape darting above and behind the red roofs across the way.

Dusk turns to night with little further interruption. Lanterns cast a warm glow about the room. Through the curtains, the windows look to the starry night sky above. It is beautiful out. The road is dark and empty—this town did not invest in street lamps.

 [Delja Utorak: Listen success.]  Near midnight, as Delja lies in bed, she is immediately alert to nearby activity. Her neighbor in Room 20 is very suddenly—and very quietly—moving crates, nearer the door it sounds like. At the same time, light hooves and wheels sound beneath her window. She hears light footsteps in the streets below accompanying the cart, and she is distinctly aware that even with her extraordinary senses, she can only estimate four or so humanoids below—they are quite good at moving silently, perhaps too good for an out-of-the-way town like Beregost.

 [Lorwyn Suaril: Listen success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Hide success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Move Silently success.]  In the meantime, Lorwyn very closely dodged being spotted in her new sleeping spot. Unexpectedly, as dusk deepened to night, two farmers went right through the fields straight to the inactive windmill Lorwyn chose, bearing lanterns but no weapons besides. Their demeanor was casual with a tinge of concern. Fortunately Lorwyn heard their approach, and easily flit from shadow to shadow to avoid being spotted. It appeared they were simply checking the windmill mechanism.

  "...got the Lathanderites in a tizzy,"   said one of the farmers,   "probably a storm, we should make sure this thing's not gonna spin like mad while we're asleep."  

After the farmers examined the windmill mechanism and pushed a lever in place, they seemed satisfied and left the windmill for good, their conversation having turned to supper and fading in the distance over the golden fields at night.

Lorwyn was alone again in the dark windmill interior, moonlight streaming through gaps and casting its dim light about.  [Lorwyn Suaril: Listen success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Spot success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Darkvision.]  It would remain this way until near midnight when she is again alerted to the presence of others nearby, except this time they are not loud, bumbling farmers, but a trio of hooded, shadowy figures amid the fields. They move with quiet purpose, and it is only after listening to and watching them for a minute that she is convinced they are not hunting  her . Indeed, two carry some manner of black granite sheet between them, with deep red arcane runes carving some dense pattern on its surface, while the third acts as a protector, hand resting ready on a rapier at the figure's side. They are moving past the windmill and into the woods just outside the town.

The runes on the granite sheet glint menacingly in the moonlight as the trio glide through the knee-height crop field.


 

 Athkatla.   [Aeric Hartford: Diplomacy success.]  There was little Aeric could do to make the elements in the Adamantine Mug friendly, but less hostile he did successfully make them. Perhaps they thought him clueless as to who he was asking after, unwise to the powers that be. Perhaps they were simply charmed. But they are willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The bartender says,   "Well, I assure you this is not the right channel to make new business acquaintances. But... House Dannihyr maintains an estate in Athkatla. I will ask some of our patrons to see if they would be interested in making your acquaintance. Who should I tell them you are, and why should they wish to meet with you?"  

In the meantime, Varis is still at Waukeen's Promenade, unable to narrow down specific book merchants. What does he do?
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Well, that's not something you see everyday.   Lorwyn watches the cultists -   because who else carries ensorcelled plates through fields at night to secret meetings   - and decides to follow them.   Hard to make out the writing, need to touch it.   She makes herself unseen and teleports straight up into the air to get a better view.   Now where are you heading...   She follows high above the cultists as they make their way through the field, looking ahead for a spot to ambush them.

 
 Spoiler 
Go invisible and fly 60ft above them, keeping in her Darkvision range. I'll test Knowledge Arcana to see what she knows about such things but really she wants to get close enough to touch the stone sheet without them seeing her. That'll let her All-Seeing Eyes (Comprehend Languages) invocation work and might help decipher the text.

 Knowledge: Arcana   (1d20+13)[ 22 ] 
 Search  or  Spot  for a good place to 'ambush'  (1d20+53)[ 56 ]   (1d20+52)[ 57 ] 
 
namo
" I hear what you are saying, and respect that it is within your purview to get rid of this portal if you so choose.
But practically speaking it has stood, perhaps for centuries, without endangering your demesne. I am not aware that our coming has altered it in any way.

Now if you don't mind I'll confer with my companion. "

They move some ways over, but Syana is not looking for perfect secrecy. If their welcome committee has supernatural hearing, then so be it.
" What's our next step? Do you think we erred in coming here, that we lost the path set forth by your god? If so, we can go back.

Otherwise, we could request an audience with their king. It would come with opportunity, but danger as well, for he is a power among powers, and may not care to entertain our queries. "
Metastachydium
Sitting over her book, Delja rolls a shoulder and soundlessly swallows what she imagines must be the greatest sigh of frustration in the long history of such exasperated vocalisations. Her old instincts, it would appear, will never ever fail to disappoint.  Of course  everyone  else  within the span of half a continent with a weird plan and what it takes to put it into motion must have thought the exact same thing: what better place to shore up in than sleepy Beregost? And pick the peaceful boring inn to boot. It just makes sense; that's why  she  did it. But the timing? Well…

Well, at this point, she's just had it. Lorwyn had to,  of course , announce that they are here and up to something, and Number 20 had to,  of course  not only hear it, but also be exactly what Delja thought they are: a problem. So now she'll have to makes sure  she  is not the only one who had the wrong idea here. As quietly as she can, she packs her things and steps to the door sliding the key into its hole and turning it just as quietly. Looks like the mystery neighbour, the mystery guests and her shall have a talk.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Move Silently to go about this silently:  (1d20+15)[ 21 ] 
 
remetagross
Ux Utanar has perceived the movement of surprise from Syana, but before he can react on that, the genies continue speaking. And luckily enough, they do not appear overly suspicious upon hearing him mentioning the Noctuary in such an open way. He bows to thank them for their polite welcome, before flying away to join Syana.

  "I must confess I'm just as lost as you are. No evident sign of the will of the Platinum here...but this Boundless Eminence seems to be a knowledgeable ruler, if he can perform epic magic himself. Tell you what - maybe I should take a moment here...to seek the guidance of Bahamut."  

And with that, Ux Utanar closes his eyes for the merest moment, listening to his inner self.
  
"O Bahamut, if we decide to meet the ruler of the Plane of Air directly and talk about the Noctuary to them, would I be failing you?"  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Auto-success on the Sense Motive DC 20 check to get a hunch of the social situation and detect the surprise of Syana at the open mention of the Noctuary. Guess what, namo: I've been re-reading our adventure, and so far, we haven't explicitly said we would not mention it. And that is the way of Ux :D

Besides, Ux Utanar is using the feat Gift of Discernment to try and assess whether the course of action they are envisioning would lead to a gross violation of Bahamut's will.
 
chaincomplex
 Plane of Air.  It only takes a moment. No sooner than does Ux finish his question does he intuit the answer. No: the Platinum Dragon will not be disappointed in Ux if he chooses to confer with this elemental lord of genies about the Noctuary. The elemental lord does not  feel  evil or weak-willed—Ux can sense this much, even as he has never met said lord. Nonetheless Ux also suspects that there is some delicacy to this act, even if he does not immediately understand it.


 

 Beregost: Outskirts.  The cool night breeze caresses Lorwyn's face as she teleports straight into the air, borne aloft by wings as invisible as she is. The moonlit, starry night sky casts a silver glow down from above, while below golden fields rustle in waves from the soft winds. In the background is the tall, shadowy windmill in which Lorwyn had hoped to rest. That would have to wait.

Like a bird of prey she circles above the three cloaked figures.

The broad-leaf treeline comes and quickly obscures Lorwyn's view underneath.  [Lorwyn Suaril: Spot success.]  Fortunately the miniscule glimpses of motion between the leaves suffice for Lorwyn to maintain her track, even in the dark, even at this distance, even while she is herself in a flight pattern not perfectly in sync with her quarry. Such is her sight.

Her quarry themselves pick the best ambush location when they choose to stop in a small clearing, saving Lorwyn much of the trouble. (See the  Tactical Map  for  Beregost: Wooded Clearing .) Without hesitation they begin to set the runic granite slate into the earth beneath the shade of a large oak. Its face is pointed towards the town of Beregost.

 [Lorwyn Suaril: Spot success.]  [Lorwyn Suaril: Knowledge (Arcana) success.]  The "runic architecture" of the granite slate contains unmistakable patterns for necromancy. This much she could tell with her supernaturally keen sight, at least before the trio disappeared beneath the wooded canopy. The slate is some manner of focus for soul magic, though it itself is nonmagical. Its actual function is beyond Lorwyn—the magical circuitry is incredibly intricate and would require arcane expertise well beyond hers.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Delja steps into the doorway of her room. (See the  Tactical Map  for  Beregost: Feldepost's Inn, 2nd Floor .)  [Delja Utorak: Move Silently success.]  She is decently quiet about her exit, what little noise she makes easily masked by the noise of crates moving next door, but otherwise not hidden, so when the Room 20 door opens and a human man steps through—almost simultaneously joined by three cloaked humans (one who appears to have some elven heritage) appearing from the stairway, so announced by their footsteps—there is utter silence as the four stare at Delja, and with some surprise at that.

The four are armed and dangerous, at least relative to the local populace. The bear blades beneath their cloaks and have the look of seasoned fighters, more than ready to fight at the drop of a hat. At the same time, they show some reservation, as they are clearly not keen on fighting here.

With a sigh, directed more at his compatriots than at Delja, the man from Room 20 says,   "Well, what are you waiting for? A formal invitation? We've got things to move."   And indeed, at the man's feet there are two knee-height wooden crates. They clink with glass and slosh with unseen liquids. Delja catches the glimpse of more beyond Room 20's doorway. Without taking their eyes off Delja, the three at the stairs start down the hall towards the crates. The man from Room 20 turns to Delja.   "Evening, neighbor. We're just... humble merchants... getting ready for a move early in the morning. I apologize if we woke you, we'll be out of your hair in just a moment."  
 [Delja Utorak: Sense Motive success.]  At first it sounded like possibly the worst bluff Delja had ever heard in her life, almost sardonic in how little effort he was putting into his story. But after a moment it becomes clear that this was deliberate and there were some subtleties to his message. He wanted to communicate three things: first, his disinterest in confrontation; second, that yes he was obviously up to no good and was not going to hide that; but third, that this genuinely does not involve Delja, please go back to sleep and ignore him and his cronies. It was clear that he and his men were sharp enough to be wary at the timing—and quietness—of Delja's appearance in the hall.
remetagross
Ux Utanar opens his eyes again after the merest moment, seeming decided and invigorated. The only sound is that of his wings, endlessly flapping, to maintain his height at the level of Syana.

  "I have had the answer I have been seeking. I advise we should go and see this lord...Boundless Eminence...and confer with him. We should proceed with caution, most likely because we don't know a lot about the situation in which we're going to dive, but there's no malice ahead of us."  
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana nods, fascinated. She wishes whatever communication takes place - she has to believe it's not all in Ux's head - would be visible to her arcane senses, but the nature of this communing with the divine eludes her still.

As they rejoin the genies, Syana clasps her hand together.
" We would like to request an audience with his Excellency Husam al-Balil ben Nafhat al-Yugayyim. "
She uses his full name on purpose, to show that she knows of him. 
 
  
Taelas
Aeric smiles widely. "  Ah. My name is Aeric Hartford, but I doubt it would mean anything to your patrons, unfortunately. I am not from Faerûn. But you can inform them that I may have information they are interested in -- information pertaining to the Dannihyr family. I'm sure you can understand that I cannot elaborate further.  "
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Huh. I suppose raising the dead is better than summoning demons.   Lorwyn settles into the branches of the large tree as quiet as she can, floating down a little closer.   Does it matter that it's facing the town? What would Delja do if she were here?   Lorwyn smiles and pretends to wave a sword around.   If you don't stop bothering me and interfering with my perfectly normal and definitely not questionable necromancy I'll add you to the list of things that need to be raised!  
 
 Spoiler 
Hiding in the tree, about 30ft above them.
 
Metastachydium
Earlier the evening, Delja would have found that implicit proposal incredibly compelling. Live and let live; it's not like she's working with the angels (currently, and she  hated  it when they did). But now?  Right  now? Right now, she simply puts her dumbest face on.   Ah.   she says, doing her best to sound groggy and content with what she's told.   What's it you're peddling?   she begins to amble closer, dropping int a posture that  seems  quite clumsy and relaxed.   I'm one for liqueurs.   – sadly too true, and luckily all too irrelevant as it may be. But then, what better lie than the truth? She doesn't need them convinced of it; she just needs them  antsy .

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Yes, she  really  wants them to pick a fight now. Standard action drop into total defense for AC 74, T 65; and move 30' towards the crates to K9;
Bluff to make them think she just got the lucky drop on them amidst the noise, and is a sleepy Halfling:  (1d20+21)[ 25 ] ;
Sleight of Hand if needed, because she totally doesn't have a sword-sized object in her hand, no:  (1d20+12)[ 20 ] 
 
chaincomplex
 Plane of Air.  The request seems to have been expected. The first genie nods.   "Excuse us a moment."   Then the genies are silent. A moment passes, then two, then dozens, yet they maintain their inexpressive silence. Borne aloft in the vast blue sky by air coalescing around their lower torsos, while barely moving in these wild winds, they are at home in this primal, elemental world.

Ux senses the genies are communicating telepathically, quite probably not just among themselves, and whatever they are communicating is a complex back-and-forth, far more complex than a simple request would ordinarily entail, Ux suspects.

Minutes pass. The first genie gives a brief apologetic bow midway through but otherwise returns to impassivity. More minutes. Then finally, as two great cloud banks collide in the great distance, lightning flashing beneath their dark, roiling surfaces, the first genie speaks.   "His Boundless Eminence regrets that he cannot meet you. However, he extends his invitation for you to join us as honored guests and peruse the Archives of Glass and Wind for this... 'Noctuary' that you seek. He will not be insulted if you decline his invitation."  

 

 Beregost: Outskirts.  Lorwyn alights silently on the tree just above the three hooded figures like gossamer on the wind. Together with her invisibility, Lorwyn remains fully undetected.

One of the hooded figures speaks.   "Is it aligned right?"   He kneels by the granite slate and carefully tries to discern the direction back to town.

Another responds, stretching her arms after the ordeal of carrying the slate.   "It's good enough. Doesn't have to be exact, I'm told."  
  "Should we check on the other barrier teams?"  
  "...No, they'll be fine. We should pick up our things and head out."  
  "Why not stay? It'll be suspicious if we left all at once. It's safe as long as we don't drink from a well, right?"  
  "As long as you don't drink from a well, touch or eat anything wetted by well water... I say we just leave. And even if you stick around and eat from rations... look, it's suspicious if we all leave now, but when half the town is dead tomorrow we don't want to be around, not for the Flaming Fist response, but certainly not for the ritual."   The figure shudders as she mentions the ritual.   "We can cut our way out if pressed. These country boys have never fought a real battle, I'd wager."  
 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Delja is a good actress—a very good liar, as it were—but her performance was perhaps a touch too forced, and she senses the Room 20 man has too much experience to buy her act. He is dangerous, that is, he moves with the confidence of one who believes there is nothing in town that could threaten him and his cohort. He might ordinarily have been right, but they have not fought the likes of Delja before.

  "Potions and oils,"   says the man dryly, moving forward to block Delja's progress.


 

 Athkatla.  Aeric makes his pitch and the bartender frowns slightly.   "I will... relay your message. Return tomorrow and hopefully I will also have an answer for you."  
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Oh. That's...not good.   Lorwyn listens to the cultists and remembers the drunk guy outside the house party.   Probably drank from the well. Too late to stop that.  
  Which one gets it first?   She raises her arm and holds her palm out, tracking each person in turn.   You seem more likely to talk to me...   She thinks while looking at the kneeling cultist.   And you seem perfectly fine with what you're doing. You get it first.   She points her hand at the lady cultist and a line of acid erupts from thin air to hit her before splitting off to the other two cultists.

  "The one who agrees to answer questions about your schemes gets to live."   She says to them. Moments after she floats to the other side of the tree to conceal her position.

 
 Spoiler 
Standard to use Eldritch Blast with Eldritch Chain and Vitriolic Blast.
Move to other side of tree.

Attacks are vs flat-footed, touch AC.

Attack vs Lady Cultist  (1d20+22)[ 39 ] 
Eldritch Blast acid damage  (10d6+1)[ 37 ] 
Sneak Attack damage  (8d6+20)[ 50 ] 

Attack vs Silent Cultist  (1d20+22)[ 27 ] 
Eldritch Blast acid damage  (5d6)[ 15 ] 

Attack vs Kneeling Cultist  (1d20+22)[ 34 ] 
Eldritch Blast acid damage  (5d6)[ 18 ] 

---

Lorwyn is under the effects of Greater Invisibility for however many more rounds you decide. It's a max of 17 rounds per casting so it's easy to reup when out of combat but she decided to risk it running out during the fight instead of giving them a chance to detect her recasting it before attacking them.

She'll attempt Stealth after the attack.
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana cannot hide a flash of disappointment at the news, but she recovers quickly and smoothly. After a quick look at Ux to make sure he is just as willing as her to continue, she replies:
" We accept his Boundless Eminence's generous offer. "

In truth, taking her time to reflect upon it, access to the Archives might be even better than a simple audience for their ultimate goal; and it makes sense such an important creature wouldn't meet two strangers out of the blue.

" How are we to proceed to the Archives?
We are able to travel at your earliest convenience. " 
 
  
remetagross
Ux Utanar must fight a terrible urge to scratch his left elbow while the genies stand motionless, as he feels it would be somewhat out of touch to do so. Thus, he makes his best effort to remain perfectly still and patient. When the decision of the Eminence finally comes through, he bows in relief while joining his two hands before him. This movement allows him to subtly rub his elbow in a furtive motion. He then adds to Syana's answer.

  "I must add that while I can travel by flight, I do not possess any means of faster, magical transportation that would allow me to reach a faraway place instantly."  
Metastachydium
The man's blunt dismissal of the whole ruse manages to surprise Delja somewhat. That's some competence there. Just what she needed; a complication that's serious about its business. Truly, this plane hates her as much as the Outlands did. But she does not groan or sigh. This only really just strengthens that itch within.  This is an annoyance that she might actually get around to punch in the face ; if only the annoyance will play its part  just as well  going on.   Potions?   she says, with a strange, dry chuckle that comes with no smile – she's not even pretending she is pretending at this point.   I like those, too. What kind?   She slips to the side, all slow and ungainly, her posture still relaxed to the untrained eye, starting then forward to move past, staring  straight  into the man's face, only just not saying "come on,  hit  me".

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Maintaining total defense, Delja assigns Dodge (I remembered!) against Number 20 and begins to try and just move past onto I8 (not moving her on the map yet, to see if the guy gets ideas); that puts her AC at 75 T 66 against Number 20 and at 83 T 74 against AoOs by Number 20.
 
chaincomplex
 Plane of Air.  The genies are silent, but this time for only a few heartbeats. Then the third one speaks.   "I will teleport us to the Citadel. A  kephaliya  will then be your host and show you to your rooms and the Archives. If this is acceptable to you, then take hold of this fabric."   The genie unwraps a black-and-gold silken sash from his forearm and proffers it. The sash billows in the ever-present winds.


 

 Beregost: Outskirts.  The cloaked woman does not even have a moment to react. In an instant, Lorwyn's eldritch blast leaves a gaping hole the size of a human fist in the side of the woman's head and neck, dripping with magically charged acid. The woman drops to the dirt like a rag doll, instantly dispossessed of life.

The other two do not fare much better. The bolt leaps to one then the other, the vitriolic energy melting through their cloaks and burning skin beneath. One shouts in alarm, the other yelps from the pain, but neither appear to give a thought to Lorwyn's offer.

The silent one goes for a longsword beneath his cloak. The kneeling one stands and reaches for a hand crossbow. Roll for initiative.

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  The Room 20 man's hand twitches towards a hilt beneath his cloak, but he restrains himself. Delja senses that he is  itching  to fight—probably his preferred way of resolving conflicts—but from the way his eyes flit to the other occupied rooms, discretion is his first priority here.

With a grimace and a sigh, he drops the facade entirely and says,   "What are you? Harper?"   He once again interposes himself between Delja and the crates.   "Don't suppose you'll walk away if we offered gold?"   He snorts humorlessly, clearly not expecting it to work.

At this juncture the others seem to have shifted tasks. Two advance closer to support the Room 20 man. One steps towards the stairway, as if ready to bolt—and get help, Delja senses. None of these folk are cowards. They are battle-hardened, ready to do any deed to accomplish their mission.
remetagross
Ux Utanar smiles at their answer and bows deeply, but does not make a move towards the fabric.

  "This is most generous from you. I cannot take your present due to a vow of poverty, but we are deeply grateful for your warm welcome. and your help. May the blessed wings of the Platinum Dragon ever grace the skies of your realm."  
namo
" Ux, this is to enable the transportation spell, not a present " Syana has trouble not bursting out into laughter, but she manages.

She flies towards the sash and takes it between two fingers, trying to appear elegant.

It's always troublesome trusting someone to teleport you into an unknown place, but she calms the trepidations in her heart, and the voice of paranoia telling her yet another betrayal awaits her.
Metastachydium
Delja  almost  stabs Number 20 herself when he says  Harper , but she realizes there's no hurry to that. This is better. Make them suffer as  she  suffers, a good change of pace. She merely rolls a shoulder.   To the point, that's something, at least.   she says, her voice none too loud, but not exactly lowered to a whisper either.   See, that's a funny thing, money. I used to see the point.   she inspects a fingernail on her left for half a moment.   But what am I to do with it? The thing is,   she looks the man in the face   I figured I can  use  this place for a while, because it's all small and quiet, and I need that. And after a really bad day, you barge in, to mess that up for me?   a quizzical grimace appears on her face.   We're not doing that.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Total defense with Dodge stays on for AC 75 T 66; no moving this round
 
remetagross
It's a good thing dragonborns cannot really blush, per se. Ux Utanar makes his best effort to look dumbstruck for only the merest moment, before regaining his composure.

  "Ah. Well, perfect then. Um, let's proceed."   He tries and equal Syana's prestance while flying forward to take a hold of the fabric as well.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  I'm sorry.   Lorwyn swallows the bile that threaten to escape her stomach after watching the cultist die. She shakes head and changes her targets, aiming for their weapons.   "Last chance to walk away."   She says and fires a raw blast of eldritch energy at the crossbow which splits from the impact to lance out at the longsword and then ricochet towards the stone tablet.

 
 Spoiler 
Standard. Eldritch Blast (Chain Blast shape, Hammer Blast essence).

Attack vs Crossbow  (1d20+22)[ 32 ] 
Damage  (10d6+1)[ 34 ] 

Attack vs Longsword  (1d20+22)[ 32 ] 
Damage  (5d6)[ 15 ] 

Attack vs Necromancy Tablet  (1d20+22)[ 33 ] 
Damage  (5d6)[ 18 ] 

Each of the cultists take  (1d6)[ 2 ]  points of Acid from the previous rounds Eldritch Blast.
 
.
chaincomplex
 Citadel of Ice and Steel.  As soon as Ux and Syana have both taken hold of the fabric, the genie gives an almost imperceptible nod, then confidently speaks the spell. The world around them winks out of being, leaving the genie and his two passengers floating in the Astral Sea's silver flow, but only for as long as half a heartbeat. The world resolves around the trio, and in another instant they find themselves standing in a new place.

Perhaps "place" is an understatement. The instant Ux and Syana land, they are assailed by light, color, and sound; all the while, they are touched by the fringes of powerful rushing wind, though their feet quickly find solid ground beneath, and there is no risk of being caught up in the elemental eddies.

The trio have arrived in an immense hall, so large it may as well be an outdoor space, with ornate rafted ceilings hundreds of feet high, small wisps of cloud visibly entwining the rafters, and winged beings darting in and out of the cloud. Almost a thousand paces away, colossal opening ports line one of the curve walls of the hall, immense skyships drifting lazily in and out of the air dock, the rushing air from their moving bulks dissipating throughout the place. Colossal clockwork cranes and lofted platforms swarm with the comparatively tiny humanoid workers.

The hall seems to curve around an immense structure and the ends are not visible. The main floor of the hall throngs with people, of the humanoid variety—mostly humans, elves, gnomes—interspersed with genies. The bear trade goods, from metals and spices to magic rings and clockwork toys, upon carts or floating disks of force. Some stalls and tents have been set up, hawking sustenance or things of convenience. Large patrols of colorful but impressively armed and armored humanoid guards, powerful in bearing and obviously magical in nature, thread through the crowd.

The trio stand on a column-ringed platform of bright stone etched in sky-blue runes just across the hall from the docks. No sooner than had they arrived do nearby guards and local denizens see the teleporting genie and immediately kneel. Farther away, travelers and others watch with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

The third genie—really the only genie from the original four still around—is apparently accustomed to this.   "Rise."  

A tall, ornately robed humanoid woman steps forth, covered in jewelry sparkling in the light and swaying with her motions.   "Most Honored One,"   she greets the genie. Then she turns to Ux and Syana.   "And honored guests. I am your  kephaliya , Zuleyha al-Sharî, chosen by the will of the Great Caliph Husam al-Balil. I am to ensure your stay is as comfortable as possible and to show you the many wonders of the Citadel of Ice and Steel. I understand you are here to study at the Archives of Glass and Wind, and it will be my privilege to bring you there."  

The genie interrupts.   "I must be away. Travelers, as we investigate the portal, we may have further questions. I pray that you will not be averse to further questioning should it prove necessary."   And with that, there is a spoken spell and a loud  snap! , and he is gone.

The  kephaliya  eyes Ux and Syana with curiosity.   "I was given your name, Ux Utanar Tibur Randall Amblecrown, but not yours, other honored guest."   The last part is directed at Syana.   "If you will excuse my impolitic request, would you tell me your name, title, and creed; and should you have any questions for me before I begin walking you through the Citadel, I can answer them."  

Syana is, of course, still in her angel form. This is attracting looks from the crowd, but the looks do not linger. Even angels are not so rare here. As for Zuleyha, she does not seem one bit bothered by Syana's form.


 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn manages a second eldritch blast before the remaining hooded figures ready their weapons. The directed hammer blast shoots to the hand crossbow, splintering it into at least a dozen pieces; then streaks to the other figure's half-drawn longsword, shattering that one in two crosswise; then finally to the granite tablet, which does not break, but there is a resounding blow and deep cracks streak across its surface, marring the runes. Lorwyn might have been imagining it, but the deep red runes that stretch across the tablet's once-unmarred surface seem to glimmer slightly less in the moonlight now.

The figures' heads turn and eyes dart around. Lorwyn remains unseen.

 Hooded Figure 2.  Hooded Figure 2 swears and flees north back towards the fields and town proper. He double moves from  Q15  to  J5 .

 Hooded Figure 3.  Hooded Figure 3 follows suit. He moves from  P15  to  M10  and draws a backup dagger. His stance indicates his intent to protect Hooded Figure 2 from whatever pursuit may follow. Of course, his stance also indicates he does not know where the pursuit may come from.

 Turn Order.  The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril → Hooded Figure 2 → Hooded Figure 3. It is now Lorwyn's turn. Lorwyn may choose to end combat and let the remaining figures flee since they have no intentions of continuing the fight.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  The Room 20 man stares at "halfling" as if unsure whether she really is prosecuting this conflict over missed sleep. Then he sighs with irritation.   "Ah, you're one of those self-appointed protectors of peace. Just our luck."   He is silent for a few awkward heartbeats as he seems to think.   "Alright, let's try to do this quick and quiet-like."   He reaches for his weapon.

Roll initiative.


 

 Athkatla.  Aeric finds himself back out in the streets of Athkatla. There is still time to burn till night. What does he do?

 
 Spoiler: Athkatla 
 Athkatla.  The City of Coin and capital of Amn, and a merchant and naval power of Faerûn. A sprawling, fortified metropolis of grand, theatrical architectures, skylines dominated by domes, pediments, and cruciform towers. The port is buried beneath a crowd of sails great and small. A river cuts the city in two, with a soaring bridge-district crossing overhead casting a mountainous shadow upon the ships below. Proper mountain peaks as tall as the thick clouds borne by the currents of the Sword Coast can be seen in the distance to the north and south—if the adobe and clay roofs of the two-, three-, four-plus-story townhouses squeezing Athkatla's narrow avenues do not block one's view of the sky. The sounds of seagulls and distant crowds permeate the air.

The list of notable locales has been updated.

 
  Arbalest's House.  A collegial temple to Milil, headed by the mysterious Patriarch of Song. 
  Dome of the Rose.  A monastery and temple to Lathander, headed by the quiet and pious Mornmaster Thaddin Dawnhunter. 
  Moonhall.  A gorgeous temple to Selûne, headed by the shrewd High Priestess Aryn Gallowglass. 
  The Mithrest.  An old, cultured, and stylish inn. Proud and luxurious. 
  Den of the Seven Vales.  A fairly pricy inn and tavern for well-to-do travelers and merchants. Leans into the cosmopolitan nature of Athkatla. 
  The Five Flagons.  A drink house run by experts in all things alcohol. 
  The Seas' Bounty.  For youths both poor and monied. Expect students, socialites, and musicians at this inn. 
  Silverale Hall.  Solid inn with a trusted local reputation. Known for good food and company, and not too busy at that. 
  Delosar's.  An old inn popular with military and legal figures. 
  The Adamantine Mug.  A congregation place for travelers and merchants of modest means but high ambition. 
  The Copper Coronet.  A dark place where the undercurrents of society gather. Expect smugglers and pirates at this inn and tavern. 
  Lathander's Estates.  A landowning and exploration company. Funds colonies in distant lands. 
  Giant's Eye Traders.  Famed caravan company, willing to attempt expeditions most others would balk at. 
  Crymmar's Holdings.  A large trading and private military company. Handles a majority of commodities and crafted goods imports and exports in Amn. 
  Rose's Bounties.  Bulk trading company, predominantly food items, plus a large, professional shipping fleet. 
  The Thousandheads.  An international trading coster and private military company. Based in Waterdeep. 
  Green Fields Consortium.  Another international trading coster, though without much of an armed component. Based in Cormyr, and well-connected with nobility. 
  Sybarr Spices.  As its name suggests, a trading coster primarily trafficking spices, though all luxury goods are its domain. 
  Council House.  An old fortress said to date back to the days of the Shoon. Grand and imposing, Amn's ruling Council of Six reign from here. 
  Waukeen's Promenade.  Sitting at the city's center, this immense tower of terraces hosts one of the busiest bazaars on the continent. Almost any deal one could hope to make can be closed and cleared here. 
 
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "No."   Lorwyn says as they flee. She flies around the tree and closer to them before chanting the words in Sylvan that her patron taught her. Freezing black tentacles erupt from the ground and thrash at the cultists.   "I said talk or die. Running is not a choice."  
 
 Spoiler 
Move to  L12  and use Chilling Tentacles.

Cold Damage  (2d6)[ 5 ] 
Grapple vs Hood 3  (1d20+25)[ 32 ] 
Grapple vs Hood 2  (1d20+25)[ 33 ] 
 
Metastachydium
It took them long enough, but  finally  they got there. One has to work with what one has, really. She should probably learn to feel the same way about Lorwyn as well.   Please. I just hate to be disturbed.   Delja shrugs, or, rarther, shrugs her cloak off her sword hand with a nochalant grimace, flashing a set of tiny, sharp teeth, altogether unlike anything that has real business being found in a Halfling's mouth.   And being called a  Harper , of all things? Quite disturbing.   Maintaining some caution with her stance, she begins to move, fast, in a bid to see if she can skirt around Number 20 and make things more…  Interesting , here.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Initiative:  (1d20+14)[ 19 ] ;
Delja tries to Tumble onto H9:  (1d20+28)[ 30 ] ,
which should activate her default Child Of Shadow stance, granting concealment;
then take a defensive (for AC 72, T 63) stab against the Half-Elf on G8:  (1d20+27)[ 28 ]  for  (1d6+20)[ 25 ]  magical adamantine ghost touch piercing, with  (1d4)[ 4 ]  force,  (1d6)[ 6 ]  cold,  (2d6)[ 3 ]  precision (Precise Strike) and  (1d6)[ 2 ]  whatever Deadly Defense is;
she continues to Dodge against Number 20
 
Taelas
With a rueful sigh, Aeric starts walking through the city. He changes his glamer to suit the neighborhoods he walks through (stepping out of view of the main streets each time). He ends up walking to the  Copper Coronet , to get a view of the so-called 'undercurrents'.
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 " Oh "
Syana did not expect to get transported in such a busy place.
Her first move is to use her form's change ability to go from Solar to the human shape she adopted earlier, the more matronly blonde woman. She finds it helps ordinary people to relate to her rather than the typical reaction to abase themselves in front of a glorious angel.
Then she takes in their surrounding, as the chaotic winds whip at her dress and hair, but not in an unpleasant way.

She barely has time to thank their guide before he winks away.

Facing their new minder: " Well met, Zuleyha. I am Syana, Seeker of the Dragonsong. "
She is used to omitting her last name, which doesn't evoke anything to people outside of her home plane anyway.
" It is an honour for us to be welcome here.
I must admit I have quite the curious temperament, but naturally tell me if I overstep in my questions or behaviour; I may not know all the customs of this place. " 
 
  
remetagross
  "A pleasure to meet you, Zuleyha al-Sharî"   answers Ux Utanar with a generous, grave tone.   "We shall follow you to the Citadel and I am certain your help will be precious in finding what we are looking for."  

It is not lost on Ux that their guide has stayed utterly unfazed by Syana's impressive appearance. She must be used to dealing with guests of their caliber, which speaks about her level of skill as an ambassador.
chaincomplex
 Citadel of Ice and Steel.  Zuleyha guides Syana and Ux through halls of gold and sapphire, lightly crowded by the djinn and jann in ornate flowing robes who call the Citadel home. The Citadel itself is constantly flying along the sky currents of the Plane of Air, the  kephaliya  explains. It is the home of the Great Caliph of the Djinni Caliphate, who desires for it to become a center of trade across the planes, though a vast swathe of the Plane of Air is his domain proper, which his lord-governors maintain at his pleasure.

Zuleyha does not waste too much time showing the duo the sights however, she does the basics of pointing out the landmarks then directs them to their quarters and the archives. Which, as the trio walk through the Citadel's endlessly expansive halls, appears to have been the smart choice. Locations of note in the Citadel include:

 
  Wind Home.  Royal guest quarters. Luxury beyond mortal comprehension. Ux and Syana each are provided a suite. 
  Archives of Glass and Wind.  A library and museum itself as large as a palace. Many artifacts are said to lie within. Restricted access. 
  The Sovereign Fund.  The Caliphate's treasury and investment bank. Funds colossal projects across the planes. 
  The Cathedral.  A network of immense halls used for public functions, including but not limited to religious ones. 
  Rain Home.  A caravanserai of sorts for passing travelers and traders. Impromptu bazaar, inn, and all other things to make foreigners feel at home. 
  The Eye.  Military and intelligence wing of the Citadel. Off-limits to all but the Great Caliph's trusted retainers. 
  Thunder Home.  The Great Caliph's dwellings, the heart of his domain. The throne room is hereabouts. 
  The College of Akadi.  An academy and research institution, sometimes magical manufactory. Wizards and artificers can be found here. 
  The Great Arc.  The Citadel's sky port where all sky ships, civilian and military, dock; and where all their trade and assorted traffic congest. 
 
Zuleyha ends the tour with Ux and Syana in one of the countless hallways of Wind Home. This one is no less richly decorated than the main thoroughfares, with ornate golden carpets, exotic potted plants, and gorgeous impressionist art, but mostly bereft of passersby save for the occasional servant and guard patrol. A crystal window looks upon a landscape of nothing but sky and cloud. Sky ships in the distance draw trails across the horizon.

  "Wear these,"   she says, handing Ux and Syana each a mithral medallion on a thin silver string. The medallions depict a gust of air blown by the stylized face of a serene woman.   "The Archives will not admit you without them. Is there anything else I can help you with?"  

 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn's quarry had no chance. The black tentacles spring up and around them, and within moments they are firmly grappled, their skin developing a frosty sheen as the cold washes over them. They choke and sputter as the tentacles constrict, and snaps sound as something breaks in them.

 Hooded Figure 2.  The figure struggles but fails to break free of the grapple. He attempts to slip out between the gaps, but even air struggles to pass through what gaps the tentacles allow, and he fails. He also does not speak but he shivers violently from the cold and pain. His face and torso are slick with blood and his bones appear to be broken in several places.

 Hooded Figure 3.  The figure struggles but fails to break free of the grapple. Small eddies of flame suddenly rush up and down his body, twirling in and out between the tentacles—but they do not dissuade the magic tentacles, which are impervious to the harm. He remains speechless save for his noises of effort. Blood pours from his nose and coats his mouth.

 Turn Order.  The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril → Hooded Figure 2 → Hooded Figure 3. It is now Lorwyn's turn.


 

 Delja Utorak.  Delja may not have moved as fast as she usually could, but she was still blindingly fast compared to the others here. Only the Room 20 human man could move nearly as fast, and Delja still had the drop on him. She slips by him with ease and aims her blade at the half-elf. Flat-footed though the half-elf is, Delja misses, as by sheer luck the half-elf barely dodges when he flinches reflexively.

 Room 20 Human.  The man immediately spins about with his longsword and attempts to slam Delja with its flat side. He is an expert martial artist judging by his graceful movements, but he is no match for the shadow-shrouded Delja, who dodges his attack with utter ease. The man's stare narrows, and he immediately shifts his stance, stepping up and onto the crate on  H8  with acrobatic flourish. This does not provoke an attack of opportunity.

 Human 3.  This one draws a wand rather than his sword and points it at Delja. He enunciates a word of magic, and in an instant a magical force tries to establish its grip over Delja. Delja must make a Will save (DC 14) or be affected by  hold person .

 Human 2.  This one draws a longsword, kicks open the crate on  G9 , revealing rows of vials of dozens of colors. He quickly shouts to the Room 20 man,   "Now!"  
 Room 20 Human.  With tactical fluidity the Room 20 man transitions into a new motion... and waits for the briefest heartbeat.

 Half-Elf.  The half elf draws a rapier smoothly and immediately tries to strike Delja twice, with arcane energy streaming down his arm and into his blade. Delja dodges both strikes with ease, and the arcane energy dissipates harmlessly. The half-elf takes a 5 ft. step back from  G8  to  F8 .

 Room 20 Human.  The Room 20 steps from  H8  to  G8  and executes a flurry of five strikes through a fluid dance-like maneuver. They are exceptionally well-aimed attacks, almost inhuman in their prescience. Delja dodges four of the five attacks. The fifth attack hits, even through her concealment, and deals 17 hp damage and gives Delja a negative level. The blade feels foul as it cuts her, as if drawing from her very life essence.

 Turn Order.  The turn order is Delja Utorak → Human 3 → Human 2 → Half-Elf → Room 20 Man. It is now Delja's turn.


 

 Athkatla.  The Copper Coronet itself is a sprawling series of haphazardly built half-tenement, half-townhouse structures occupying almost an entire block. Parts of the building sag, as if their foundations have been taken from them and are ready to fall over at any moment, yet they stand tall and defiant of the laws of civil engineering. Cloaked and otherwise grimy figures frequent the place. Aeric looks the part through his glamer, a hooded traveler in a tattered jacket. He enters the establishment.

The inside is a chaotic sprawl. It is a large main hall with countless chaotically assorted doors of different makes leading to adjoining halls. But the main hall itself is two stories tall, with chandeliers that may well have been plucked from different mansions hung above large feasting tables. Between the tables are fire pits simmering stews and roasting what is hopefully the latter half of a whole hog on a spit. For what it is worth, it is actually pretty appetizing in appearance, glazed in what might be honey and smelling the part of sweet and savory.

The tables are almost filled with the poor and disreputable, but also the mercenary types and the occasional figures shrouded in cloaks of seemingly quality make, with vaguely concealed, well-tailored garments beneath. Bar maids careen through the crowd. Up front there is a bar proper and a halfling bartender at it, though it is mostly empty with bar maids taking and delivering most of the orders, and some unseen kitchen through one of the back doors supplying what cannot be found on the main floor. The bartender has the bearing almost of a bouncer despite his small stature, what with him doing very little but chatting and carefully eyeing each of the establishment's patrons.

One table to the side has probably the most novice-looking adventuring party Aeric has ever seen. Five of them in all, if Aeric had to guess, a human paladin, human rogue, half-elf ranger, dwarf druid, and tiefling sorcerer. A hooded human woman with dark features sits alone near the bartender, occasionally sharing a word but mostly drinking. Two elves openly wearing the luxuriously woven clothes of courtiers lean against a column while chatting, ale in hand. Some of the patrons eye the elves, but mostly with fear. One of the elves is clearly a caster, a ritual dagger and pouch at his side, as well as a number of wands. The other is a swordsman, whose blade glimmers pearlescent and prismatic with obvious magic.
remetagross
Ux Utanar accepts the trinket and passes it slowly around his neck.
  "I do have a simple question, yes. Does everyone we are expected to interact with during our activities speak Common? Also, what are the most basic rules of  savoir-vivre  in this place, that Prime denizens might be unaware of? We are being treated exceedingly generously by... the Caliph... so far-"   and he curses himself for not having been able to remember his proper name just yet,   "and we would be loathe to accidentally behave inappropriately and cause trouble on this place."  

The dragonborn waits for the answer with his most affable smile.
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana carefully looks at the medallion, both with her normal and mystical senses, before she puts it on. She doesn't expect tricks, but doesn't intend to be naive either.

" My question would regard basic needs... like food. I assume food is forbidden in the Archives, as it is in any library in the multiverse, so what would you recommend as a way to get food? Our main purpose is the Archives, so ideally something not too far. "
She doesn't mind going to the bazaar if it's the best solution, but perhaps food is delivered to guests in their quarters.   Of course Ux does not need to eat, but surely he won't mind.   
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Search 16 (taking 10) and Arcane Sight for the medallion
 
Metastachydium
An annoyed grimace passes through Delja's face as she  has to , of course, open with the most embarrassing blunder she managed to perform in some time. That's really the rust showing. She could just as well help out these here and start stabbing herself; maybe  that  would at least do what she expects it to and… Did he just  hit  her?   Hm.   she rubs the fresh wound with her left thumb curiously, trying  not  to think too much about what else the jab might have done.   You're not half bad, actually.   she gives, first and foremost, Number 20 a somewhat appreciative nod. She'll have to remember to bash her own head in  after  seeing if she'll live (Lorwyn might even help, if she bothers to show); this gives her some  actual  business until then.

…which she might as well begin to take more seriously, on that note. Eschewing further flashy dancing about, she drops her left shoulder back and tilts her wounded torso away from her foes, her whole form still almost flaccidly relaxed, and with a sigh sounding more resigned than anything,  retaliates .

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

So, Dodging on against Number 20, defensive full-attack (for AC 72 T 63 or AC 73 T 64 with Dodge) also on Number 20, mostly to see what happens:
 (1d20+26)[ 34 ]  (-1 from negative level factored in) for  (1d6+20)[ 21 ]  adamantine magical ghost touch piercing and  (1d4)[ 2 ]  force,  (1d6)[ 6 ]  cold plus  (2d6)[ 3 ]  precision with  (1d6)[ 3 ]  Deadly Defense deadly damage; AND
 (1d20+21)[ 30 ]  (-1 from negative level factored in) for  (1d6+20)[ 25 ]  adamantine magical ghost touch piercing and  (1d4)[ 2 ]  force,  (1d6)[ 5 ]  cold plus  (2d6)[ 4 ]  precision with  (1d6)[ 2 ]  Deadly Defense deadly damage; AND
 (1d20+16)[ 32 ]  (-1 from negative level factored in) for  (1d6+20)[ 26 ]  adamantine magical ghost touch piercing and  (1d4)[ 2 ]  force,  (1d6)[ 2 ]  cold plus  (2d6)[ 8 ]  precision with  (1d6)[ 2 ]  Deadly Defense deadly damage; AND
 (1d20+11)[ 17 ]  (-1 from negative level factored in) for  (1d6+20)[ 24 ]  adamantine magical ghost touch piercing and  (1d4)[ 4 ]  force,  (1d6)[ 6 ]  cold plus  (2d6)[ 3 ]  precision with  (1d6)[ 1 ]  Deadly Defense deadly damage
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

She flies closer to the tentacle field so the cultists can hear her better over the sound of their snapping bones.   "I've no problem with letting you die!"   She shouts.   "I'm also fine with letting you live! Do you want to live!? Say yes and this ends!"   She yells, angry at their stubbornness.   "Don't die for nothing!"  
 
 Spoiler 
Ready a standard action to dismiss the invocation if one of them agrees to talk. Otherwise they are taking grapple and acid damage.
 
chaincomplex
 Citadel of Ice and Steel.  Syana studies the medallion. Its craftsmanship is exquisite, and it has a moderate aura of divination. As Syana does so, Zuleyha responds to the duo:   "Many here at the Citadel speak Common—also known as Planar Trade. Since we sit at one crossroad of interplanar commerce, this is to be expected. Virtually all of the learned speak Common as well, though my impression is most prefer Draconic. Among the native beings of the Plane of Air, the best language to use is Auran—if you speak it.

"And on the topic of Auran, we have a saying:  Ena aeni va raas.  Live and die free. Do not show disrespect unless you are willing to defend your words with your life. The guards will only intercede according to their righteous judgment, for no laws can encompass the myriad complexities of conflict. The Great Caliph, in his everlasting wisdom, does not wish to govern where agreements between his guests and subjects suffice. We only reserve state action for the most egregious of offenses."  

Turning then to Ux, Zuleyha smiles subtly and continues,   "Our ruler is His Eternal Grace, the Great Caliph Husam al-Balil ben Nafhat al-Yugayyim. You are right that he has shown you two great generosity, for access to the Archives is rarely granted so freely."   She addresses both Ux and Syana now.   "Many will be curious as to what has earned you such favor—I confess that I am among them. But I recommend you keep your secrets close. Few here wish to see you come to harm, but words spoken carelessly here are borne long and far by the wind.

"Lastly, on the matter of food and general service: The Archives are a complex unto themselves and has its own facilities. Of course you will be  strongly recommended  against bringing food where food is not wanted, but there are places to eat. As for your lodgings—"   she nods at two adjacent suite doors, both gorgeously inlaid with abstract geometric designs and painted the colors of the sky   "—you will find magic basins to summon food and unseen servants, alter your room's environment, protect or conceal your room, and send messages. If you require someone... sentient... there is a bell perched above the basin—it will summon either myself or a lesser retainer to see to your needs."  

 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  The tentacles continue to crush the two figures. With a squeeze, Hooded Figure 2 gasps violently and falls limp, blood dripping from his boots while the black tentacles hold him up. Some partially frozen skin sloughs off from the contact points. On a glance, Lorwyn can tell he is still alive, but he will soon breathe his last. Lorwyn judges that Hooded Figure 3 is also moments from death. He suffers the continuing constriction, his breathing growing labored, his silence now replaced by meaningless sounds, made either reflexively or in delirium.

 Hooded Figure 3.  The silent figure tries to break free one last time, but he is as powerless against the tentacles as a rag doll against a warhorse. He murmurs,   "No... no more... no more..."  
 Lorwyn Suaril.  Uses readied action to dismiss the  chilling tentacles  invocation. Combat is over.

The silent figure collapses onto the dead, frostbitten wheat underneath. They have not so grown as to cover his form, and Lorwyn still has a clear line of sight. He stands with extreme effort and begins rummaging through his pack with bloody, shaking hands.   "A...Ask,"   he gasps as he finds a vial of clear red liquid. He begins to stumble to his fallen friend (the one formerly with the crossbow). Unless Lorwyn stops him, he tries to feed the liquid to his friend.


 

 Delja Utorak.  The nixie unleashes her flurry of attacks. The Room 20 man shifts and prepares to block the attacks—but Delja manages to weave through his reflexive defenses and lands three of her four strikes. They are powerful, accurate cuts, altogether enough to fell even an elephant, and the Room 20 man takes the blows about as well—but he falls in the end. In the last moments Delja sees his shock. He slumps to the floor, eyes closed, blood pooling on the floorboards beneath. Delja can tell he is alive, but only just. He will bleed out in under a minute.

 Human 3.  This cloaked figure stares. Apparently the possibility of the Room 20 man being defeated in combat had never crossed his mind.   "Time to skedaddle!"   He turns and runs. He moves from  C10  to  C12  and descends the stairs, leaving Delja's line of sight.

 Human 2.  This man is no less shocked. He says nothing and flees by moving from  F9  to  D12 , descending the stairs, and leaving Delja's line of sight.

 Half-Elf.  The half-elf looks to the empty space left by his compatriots with a mixture of surprise and disgust.   "Cowards! I—! Ugh!"   He regards Delja with deep wariness.   "You are not what you seem, halfling!"   He considers his options, then pulls a scroll from under his belt. He lunges forward to grab the fallen Room 20 man by his clothes, reads from the scroll, and in an air-rending-flash, he and the Room 20 man vanish into thin air.

Delja hears noises of alarm below—the men who ran, ran into other trouble it seems. And the four or so with the cart on the streets below, they seem to be shouting. Then an unmistakable series of  snaps  in triplet, the sounds of a crossbow salvo, though outside and too muffled for Delja to make out details.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Thank Selune!   Lorwyn snaps her fingers and the freezing tentacles are unconjured.   "Tend to your wounded, as long as you can speak while doing so."   She says and wills the invisibility veil to vanish as well so the cultists can see her. She stays floating in the air, hand held out and ready, crackling with arcane energy.   "Is there anything that can be done right now to stop people dying from the poison?"   She points her finger at the ritual stone and unleashes another blast at it.

  "And that... thing . Tell me what it's for."   She says.   "And tell me where you were  going  tonight if I hadn't stopped you. And tell me the name of who you  serve ."   She stares at the figure, eyes burning holes in his cloak.   "And tell me  your  name, so I know what soul to conjure for  torments  if I deem you a liar."  
 
 Spoiler 
If her invisibility hasn't ended yet, she'll dismiss it. Hammer Blast the Necromancy tablet again.  (10d6+1)[ 35 ] 

Bluff   (1d20+8)[ 12 ]  She can't actually raise the dead but it sounded good so she's rolling with it!
 
Metastachydium
  I was going to  eat  that.   Delja voices an ultimately fake, if at least quite nonchalant complaint at that thin air. People keep disappearing in flashes of magic at her this day. A rather unpleasant experience, truth be told. Vexing, even.   You still here?   she wonders aloud (one never knows) as she works her way past the open crate, making sure  not  to step on the vials (all other possible properties aside, broken glass is bound to be bad for her feet) and into  Room  20. A stairway chase doesn't feel like a good use of her time, all of a sudden. Maybe whatever's in there can help her shed some light on the whole matter. If nothing else, she can always at least look out through the window, see what's going on down there.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Spot:  (1d20+27)[ 35 ] ;
Listen:  (1d20+25)[ 41 ] ;
and entering Room 20 (no roll), heading for the window unless something more interesting presents itself.

Technically, she could activate her Goggles for a minute of Blindsense, but I  think  that was teleportation, not invisibility, and so does she, so she won't bother.
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana puts on the medallion. Though Divination can be tricksy, it's probably the least dangerous of the schools of magic. There are all sorts of possible consequences to her wearing it, but the upside of access to the Archives makes it worth it.

[Auran] " The whistling wind carries your voice to my ears " she replies formally to Zuleyha, meaning that she has been heard and they will take her words to heart. Syana doesn't speak Auran herself, but her current shape has the gift of universal tongues, so she avails herself of it. Such is the power of magic, coursing through the universe on the cosmic melody of the Dragonsong...

[Common] " We thank you for your kind assistance, Zuleyha. If that will be all " she checks with a glance to Ux " then let us be on our way. "

Once they are alone, Syana feels the need to layer another warning to Ux on top of Zuleyha's. " I was going to say something much like that. Let us not trust anyone here anymore than we need. That includes our generous host, who may have plans of his own, and if he hears me I'm sure he won't be offended by this assumption. "

" Now, let us see if there are live librarians or if they were replaced by a magical construct in this library, " - she has no particular reason to think that but she is giddy and her imagination is running wild - " but we should speak of our goals to as few creatures as possible. "
They have one goal only, but it's already time to start laying some minor misdirection.
" Some steps can't be unlocked without us anyway, because of you-know-what. "
 
 
  
remetagross
Ux Utanar smirks. Hearing a rather childish sentence like "you-know-what" from the mouth of a mighty Solar has a delicious absurdity to it, and he cannot help finding that funny.  
"Uh...yes, you're right. Ahem, let's proceed then. Thanks to that you-know-what, we will be able to look for you-know-where using the you-know-how method, and..."  
  "GAH!"   he lets out after a few seconds of silence, unable to contain himself anymore.  
"Apologies, this was quite a ridiculous bout of mockery from my part. In reality, joke aside, I think you're 100% correct to suggest that."  
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana's face shows growing annoyance at Ux's antics, and the cherry blossoms embroidered on her robe begin to shift, as if swaying in the wind that courses through the palace.

But the negative emotion evaporates after he apologizes, and the robe stills down again, letting one think it was perhaps just a trick of the light. " I'm glad you agree. Neither of us is expert at subterfuge, but we have to take small precautions.. "   though there are degrees, and I'm somewhat capable while you are hopeless, my dear   She keeps that to herself however. 
 
  
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  The main arteries of the Citadel are these great hallways, regularly patrolled by the otherworldly jann in enchanted azure armor, gorgeously decorated with pastel frescoes, verdant flowery blooms, precious metal engravings of wind motifs, and jeweled chandeliers twinkling from above, with floor-to-high-ceiling crystal windows looking out onto the endless blue skies and drifting clouds. Despite being the interior of a palace, and accordingly pristine and noble in character, these halls act almost like the main thoroughfares of a city. There are stalls with humanoids hawking wares, though many more magical than what one might find in Faerûn, and denizens both humanoid and otherworldly milling about. Humans, elves, gnomes, djinn, and jann, of course; but also air and ice mephits darting between feet, walking and winged bird-creatures of proud bearing, the occasional angelic deva draped in heavenly whites, and various species of elementals just... lumbering along.

These main thoroughfares carry Ux and Syana most of the way to the Archives. The rest of it is borne in smaller, mostly unpopulated halls, still royal in character, but with the quiet juxtaposing the colossal distant clouds and sky ships occasionally visible across the skyscape, there is a serene grace to these smaller capillaries.

It is a testament to the size of the Citadel that it took half an hour for Ux and Syana to arrive at the Archives. When they do, the halls take on another character—one of secrecy and almost military intent. The are few denizens here but many jann guards. And at the doors of the Archives, these great, ornate affairs, there no fewer than two dozen guards, and from their arms and armor these look elite, even by the magical standards of the Citadel. They give Ux and Syana a quick look, then the doors swing open near-silently.

Within, the Archives are, as promised, a complex unto themselves. There is not one library or three but perhaps a dozen in all, organized by topic, but each individually larger than what would pass as even a royal library back on Faerûn. It is not just books here, but paintings, scrolls, journals; and magical items and artifacts in museum-like displays. There are well-stocked research rooms, lounges to rest between work, something akin to a café for sustenance, and—as Ux and Syana note—some black rooms the guards do not allow them to access, not even with their medallions. On the topic of which, this is not a public library, this much is clear. Almost everyone here is a guard or archive worker, and there is no shortage of them. The only exceptions are the occasional robed human, elf, djinni, or angel, all scholarly in presentation, and all bearing similar medallions.

What do Ux and Syana do here?


 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn's blast streaks across the dark field and hits the tablet, breaking it into at least a dozen stony chunks. The echoing crack of the attack dissipates quickly in the midnight wind.

The injured man breathes shallowly. He stops and thinks before he heals his disabled comrade, then with a grimace he decides to down the potion himself. Immediately magic begins to mend his wounds. He makes no further move to heal his dying comrade.   "No one should be poisoned right now,"   he says flatly, his voice leveling as he heals.   "If people are already being poisoned, then one of us screwed up. I am Stenn Rookwood, veteran of the Mulhorandi–Untheri War, now mercenary in the employ of the Zhentarim. We serve a... complex command structure. The sergeant is my direct superior—"   he nods at the dead woman, the one who Lorwyn had immediately killed with her opening attack   "—but overall command is given to Lord Captains Aelon Shieldbreaker and Eiriana of High Forest. But the one you are looking for is our client. We're here on a contracted job, that is, to kill off a third to a half of the town by morning. Only the lord captains and above have met the client, so I can't help you there. That focus—"   he nods at the now-shattered tablet   "—there are five in all. I don't fully understand its purpose, but the way it's been explained to me... it acts as some kind of barrier in a ritual, prevents the souls of the dead in town from escaping the physical reality of the town, so that they can be channeled for some blood magic. The client intends on conducting this ritual privately, we Zhentarim have only been contracted to cause the deaths and ensure the foci are in place.

"As for where we were going, it was up to our late sergeant. The best move would have been to vanish into the woods, we had no other duties but to place this focus, but if our sergeant deemed it necessary, we could have checked with the other barrier teams, helped one of the kill teams, or returned to our makeshift command center. It's a lumber mill on the northeastern side of town.

"And before you ask, no, I'm not healing my brothers-in-arms. For talking I'm basically a dead man both to them and to the Zhentarim."   He winces.   "I—I wish it had turned out differently, but I have to think of my own survival. I intend on fleeing east, far from the Sword Coast, if you yourself have any intention of honoring your promise to let me go."  

 

 Delja Utorak.  No one, unsurprisingly, responds to Delja's call-out.

Stepping into Room 20, Delja sees a suite very similar to hers, but this one is filled with half-open crates and their scattered contents, and per her knowledge of natural sciences, they are mostly the ingredients for making potions: ground minerals, venoms, dried flowers and other herbs, a rainbow variety of salt crystals, animal products like tallow, bottled reagents and intermediaries of various colors and consistencies, and so on and so forth. Some of the crates contain vials like the ones she saw outside, perhaps finished potions and oils, also of various colors. There is—and it is extremely hard to tell, but Delja can somewhat see it—a pattern to this chaos. Like is not stored with like. The randomness is almost perfect, intended to conceal something, something she would have to search for, and only if she knew how to spot whatever it is too.

In the meantime, even without Delja's superhuman hearing anyone could discern that a sword fight had just started downstairs on the first floor of the inn, and outside on the streets. A chaotic one. Maybe a dozen blades outside. Just two or three downstairs. Less perceptibly—and this one needed Delja's superhuman hearing to pick up—the neighbors are being woken by the racket. She can hear them putting on their boots, even with the sounds of battle picking up.

Now at the window and looking down, Delja sees the chaos she had heard before. There are twelve hooded figures on the streets, incredibly all in almost-indistinguishable black cloaks and hoods. Three are off to the side, shooting crossbows into the remaining melee of the nine. Of which, the nine are fighting around a horse-driven cart. The horses in question are panicking. In the melee, there seems to be one team of five against another of four. The crossbowmen are with the five... Delja thinks. All participants in the melee wield blades or maces, fight less like militia and more like hunters or duelists.

The more Delja stares, the more it becomes apparent that... none of them are very good. They are certainly a step above the average militiaman, even better than most combat veterans, but Delja gets the feeling that she could wipe the floor with all of them simultaneously. In fact, the one she just fought—who got teleported away after landing a cut on her—could probably take on most of them solo. On top of that, everyone in the melee—actually scratch that, the crossbowmen too—are getting confused as to who is who given that everyone is dressed in the same damned black cloak. Delja is pretty sure the crossbowmen have accidentally shot at some of the swordsmen who a second ago were on their side, or perhaps the crossbowmen mistook them for being on their side earlier... or whatever. The ones in the melee fare little better, some bumping into each other, reflexively almost slashing their comrades before backing off in haste.

It would almost look comedic if not for the fact that they are actually not amateurs in battle, just very poor planners.
Metastachydium
Delja frowns at the assorted paraphernalia of making…  Whatever even is in those crates ; but only slightly. It would take much,  much  more time to figure this out than she'd like to spend contemplating it presently; and the battle outside (as well as the  other  battle inside) is happening now. And the one she sees is quite the thing, too.   Holy…   she begins to mutter, pinching the bridge of her nose, but cuts herself short. Ux Utanar would politely ask her not to blaspheme; and it would seem he has some residual lingering effects on her even as absent as he might now be. How good a thing  that  is would be another matter Delja would rather contemplate later.

Instead, she slides her now unneeded left thumb down onto her belt, letting a pearl flash briefly; pullss the window open; spreads her little black wings and clambers up and out, sailing softly down and touching ground within easy reach of the melee.   If I may have your attention for  just  the moment…   she speaks up, quite loud, but equally casual.   I'd normally find this actually halfway funny, but I was meaning to do  real  things in  real quiet  here, and you're some awful noise, so…   she pushes a foot back to assume a relaxed posture as before.   I'll have to ask you to drop all that ****  now , or I'll  murder  you all.   she pauses   And then the horses.  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Swift action activate Belt of Battle once for an extra move action;
use that to open the window;
standard action activate Wings of Flying, to gain a 60' (good) fly speed;
move action fly down as described, gaining concealment from stance;
and go defensive for AC 72 T 63 (+1 against a crossbowman of your choice, because I still remember Dodge)
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "That's...ok. Ok."   Lorwyn says as she tries to make sense of what she's hearing.   "Ok, that's a lot of names. Wait, you said a  third ? So your client can raise them as part of some undead army, probably? Moonmother, this is too much!"  

She takes a few deep breaths and watches the cultist watch his comrade die.   "I don't actually know if people are being poisoned. I saw a drunk earlier that threw up more than booze, but that's all."   She stares at him but sees someone different in her mind.   "I never said I'd let you go. I said you'd live."   She says, her voice flat.

Her eyes refocus and she shakes her head.   "If I take you back to town, they'll hang you. Which you  deserve ...but I say I'd let you live."   Her eyes soften.   "These deaths are not on my conscience. I lay them on yours. Look up."   She says and nods her head towards the moon.   "See Lady Selune up there? It's by  her  grace that I was saved. Now she is saving  you  as well."  
  "Don't go east, go south. Have you forgot that your Keep is in the East? I kept my word Stenn Rookwood, and let you live. I'm also keeping your name. Time to find a new one. I suggest asking  her  for ideas."   She says as she vanishes from sight and speeds through the air.

 
 Spoiler 
Turn Invisible then rocket straight up, however high she needs to go to get her bearings and find the lumber mill.
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Drifting on the gentle breezes, Syana finds herself humming a wordless tune as she takes in the wonders of the Sultan of Air's domain. She costs them an additional handful of minutes on the way as she gets distracted by the items displayed on sale, and the shouts of the merchants touting them, but it doesn't take much pulling from Ux's part to get her back on the right track.

Once inside, she tries to get some sense of the structure and organization of the library by herself, but soon figures it will be faster to ask for some help, at first at least. " Let's first get our bearings, with the support of library veterans. "
She approaches the nearest worker - or barring one in sight, another scholar: " I'm very sorry to interrupt you, but we're newcomers here and we need some help to figure out how to organize our research. We specialize in esoteric, or at times cosmic topics, often with a link to magic. For instance, my current field of investigation focuses on the Dragonsong. How would we go about finding the works that reference it? Does there exist a kind of magical index? " 
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Diplomacy 32 (taking 10)
 
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  It is easy enough for Syana to locate a janni archivist, who answers her questions by giving a quick rundown in accented Common of the facility's organization of media. It is simple enough: the Archives' multiple libraries are split by topic, such as engineering mechanics, arcane sciences, thaumaturgy, and so on; then for topics with regional demarcation, such as planar or geographic cartography, there are distinctly marked "wards" in each individual library organizing exactly that. After this, there is organization by subtopic, subsubtopic, and so on for another four levels; then organization is by media type, date (Sigilian time, Factol Haskhar's reckoning), author name, and title, in that order. The archivist gives Ux and Syana a quick pointer as to where to locate the libraries for each topic. Altogether Ux and Syana get a +2 circumstance bonus to all Archives-related tasks like Craft, Knowledge, or Search.

There is a magical index, the archivist notes, but it is in actuality an advanced piece of magical architecture, and one typically reserves its use at least a week in advance. As for the Dragonsong, the archivist is unsure whether that would fall under a regional arcane tradition in Eberron or whether it would be in the broader section of general cosmology. The archivist apologizes for it and leaves with a bow.

Before Ux and Syana can be off to try anything more, a different archivist, a bespectacled, probably human woman whose features they barely catch, brushes by the duo. This archivist is carrying a stack of books which knock together clumsily. She says   "Sorry!"   loudly as she scurries away. But just before she does, she whispers a message that carries to Ux and Syana's ears in what is most certainly an instance of magic. In this her voice is calm and accustomed to command.   " Study room CL-T8ZW-19. Be quick. Be discrete. "   With the knowledge imparted from the earlier archivist, Ux and Syana recognize the designation of the room and know how to navigate to it. But just as quickly as this new archivist appears, she disappears among the crystal shelves.


 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn takes to the night air, the dark fields below resolving into some monochrome if textured shade only occasionally broken up by the geometry of Beregost's houses and walls. Rookwood's form, staring at Lorwyn's last visible location as she takes off, dissolves into the black with everything else.

The cold air bites Lorwyn's face as the warm pinpricks of Beregost's lights pass far below. From up here she can make out the general layout of the town. At first it is not obvious what a lumber mill should look like short of there being lumber everywhere—and no building outwardly fits that profile—but with her knowledge of local enterprises, Lorwyn surmises that a lumber mill would necessarily be built like a warehouse and have some power source, whether a wind mill, water mill, or furnace and chimney. Appropriately she finds a warehouse connected to a massive wind mill on the northeastern side of town, just as Rookwood promised, and Lorwyn speeds towards it.

The lumber mill is a three-story tall building at least a city block long on its wider side. An immense windmill, the largest around Beregost anyways, seems to power it, though presently it is not moving, not even in the light breeze that faces it directly. Large doors sized accordingly for the lumber industry are the primary means of entry and exit, but they are closed, and it appears, chained and padlocked shut. Side doors are similarly chained and padlocked. There is no lock internal to any of the doors, which are very thin and basic wooden things, and the chains holding the padlocks are light at best. The padlocks themselves do not seem particularly sophisticated.

One of the side doors appears to have its chains cut. The padlock is lying at its feet. But more interestingly, just under the awning of the tall roof there are gaps for fresh air to cross in, on all sides of the building. They are somewhat slim, but Lorwyn does not have to be an escape artist to squeeze through.

In the meantime, something strange is happening to the sky. Lorwyn observes that thick, dark thunder clouds seem to be rolling in from the distance at an unnaturally accelerated pace, soon to obscure the stars and the moon. They are still far away at the moment, but there is something eldritch about them, and they will pass over Beregost very soon.


 

 Delja Utorak.  As soon as Delja leaps out of the window and glides to the ground, the crossbowmen train their weapons on her. Some of the nearer melee combatants also take wary stances in response to Delja's presence. But no sooner than does Delja conclude her demands do they continue fighting, seemingly ignoring her. One of the crossbowmen shouts at Delja over the din of battle,   "Church business. Stay out of it!"   Before Delja can respond, several things happen in quick succession.

First, from the direction of the front entrance of Feldepost's staggers a cloaked human woman with a blood-soaked longsword.   "Surrender, vile Zhents! You are outnumbered, and your leaders are dead or gone!"   From Delja's memory, she is coming from where the other two hooded figures would have had to flee past after descending the stairs.

Second, one of the horses yelps then bolts down the street and into the darkness, knocking to the ground a number of the melee fighters.

Third, the sky roils as great black clouds in the distance come into view. They are still far, but they seem to be rushing in towards the town at an unnatural pace. They pull over the starry sky like an ominous veil.

Fourth, one of the melee combatants shouts,   "Retreat! Retreat!"   At first there is confusion as to who is supposed to be retreating, but soon the "team" of the four melee combatants recognize that it is they who are at disadvantage, and immediately they begin trying to break through the encirclement of other melee combatants.

If Delja wishes to get involved in combat she must roll initiative. Use the map  Beregost: Outside Feldepost's Inn  for reference.
remetagross
Ux Utanar gazes wide-eyed as they tour but a fraction of the magnificent Palace. Castle Obarskyr, the home of the king of Cormyr in which he spent a large part of his pre-dragonborn life, is but a gardener's hut in comparison. Even when compared to the glittering halls of Bahamut himself, the Citadel does not pale. In addition to this, a place of knowledge and academic research is not the kind of location Ux is very familiar with. This adds to his amazement and his feeling of humility.


 
 Originally Posted by Syana 
 "Let's first get our bearings, with the support of library veterans." 
 


  "Certainly. Thank you for taking the lead around, Syana, because I'm out of my domain of expertise here."  

As they are bumped into by a hasty researcher, Ux's first reflex is to check whether anything he wears has been stolen. He has not gone suddenly naked, and his walking stick is still there, which means 100% of his worldly possessions are still within his grasp. That being said, he double-takes what he has just heard. He looks quizzically at Syana.    Do Solars have telepathy powers? he wonders. Because I sure do not want to speak aloud about what just happened.   
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Unbeknownst to both of them, Syana and Ux are sharing similar thoughts, for Syana would very much like some telepathic powers right now. While some shapes do have them, she decides against switching shapes right now. " You know, I'm not exactly a book worm either. I have some familiarity with magic libraries, but nothing on this scale... "

And again, her mind goes to the same place as Ux when the assistant bumps into them, for the good old "bump and dip" is a classic used against naive travelers across the multiverse. But it takes her longer to check her many possessions and jewels, and while doing so she has time to reason that most library dwellers are not trained in the arts of thievery. She responds to Ux's glance with a wealth of facial expressions: first a grimace, then a shrug, then a devious smile. " Well, isn't this exciting? " Just for fun, she lets Ux think she is going to unsubtle. " ...Let's go find some good books. Follow me. " She heads towards room CL-T8ZW-19. As they near it, she'll pick up a couple of books on two different topics to bring into the study room.

While a trap set by librarians doesn't seem too scary, she's quite interested to know how and why they were singled out, since they've been on this plane barely an hour or two. She pauses briefly outside, checking what her arcane senses tell her about who or what's inside, then she strides in purposefully (assuming it's not one of the rooms they're barred from), her books held against her chest - a poor shield.
 
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
I really did think about both telepathy and getting pick-pocketed. 😁 (For the latter, must be the area we both live in, remeta. 😉)
 
Metastachydium
  Or what, you'll Church me to death?   Delja snarks back, fully aware that the delay in response probably diminishes the punch of it overall. Still, she's too tired of all this to just  take  that.   Anyway,   she begins casually walking towards the melee, passing, in a manner equally casual, by the crossbowman and the longsword lady.   are those crates and whatnot in number 20 yours? I mostly want to murder the owners.   she explains   But everyone's still very loud as well. I don't like that.   She lightly taps the closest combatant with her little left fist for emphasis.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Initiative:  (1d20+14)[ 32 ] ;
move action walk W14–T14–S13, no Tumbling, but on the defesive for AC 72 T 63 with concealment (Child of Shadow), with a +1 dodge against the bloody sword new arrival (Dodge) and +4 dodge against AoOs (Mobility);
then standard action unarmed strike against whoever that is on R13:  (1d20+21)[ 40 ]  for  (1d6+15)[ 18 ]  magical nonlethal bludgeoning, for emphasis;
if she loses initiative in a way hard enough that punching R13 isn't feasible (because R13 leaves), she moves up to 30' and punches the first person within reach as above
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

Slowing down as she approaches the lumber mill Lorwyn spares a glance at the coming storm.   That's a problem for future Lorwyn.   She reapplies her veil before approaching the awning, taking care to be silent as she trespasses into the mill.

 
 Spoiler 
Recast Greater Invisibility to be sure of the duration (17 rounds) and then move at half-speed (or slower if needed) to squeeze through the openings. Intent is to move slow enough to not have any movement penalties for Hide / Move Silently when she enters the building.
 
remetagross
Ux Utanar is amused by their similar train of thought, and is tempted to say so in Draconic to her friend, as he would do on the Prime. However, he refrains himself at the last moment, noting that in such a place of knowledge, it was highly likely that the average bystander was a fluent Draconic speaker. He simply smiles, and follows her to the room that has been indicated to them.
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  For Ux and Syana, searching their belongings—a veritable small kingdom's treasury—takes perhaps longer than it should, but not so long as to be obnoxious. They do eventually verify that they are missing nothing. The duo then make their way through the Archives' quiet halls to the study room. It would have been difficult to navigate as such without knowing the Archives' organization well, since all of the facilities here are lettered in the Draconic–Auran alphabet, but having gotten the rundown just now from another archivist, it is simple enough to interpret the Thorass-derivative Common  CL-T8ZW-19  as phonetic transliterations, numbers included (being representative of some polysyllabic nuances in tone specific to the Auran dialect).

Ux and Syana find themselves in a planar studies library, then further within a cartographic sciences subsection, then finally in a hall corresponding to tracts written around a century ago. Like the rest of the areas of the library, the hall is astoundingly large, even for such a specific topic in such a specific time frame. The carpet-lined mithral-white floors host rows and rows of crystal shelves taller than Ux by five heads, and stairs climb to four, five stories to reach shelves stacked all the way to the lofted cloud-frescoed ceiling. The entire space is brightly lit by a massive crystal chandelier. Open spaces exist with ornate wooden desks. But what Ux and Syana are looking for are the study rooms that ring the main hall.

Syana picks up two books at random along the way, one  Pseudo-Maps at Scale  by L. J. Hewstone, another  Esoteric Cartographic Projections  signed only by one "Z".

Without further ado, Ux and Syana step into the appropriate study room. The thick darkwood door swings open with nary a sound.

The study room centers around one large central darkwood table. Gorgeous geometric patterns engrave its surface. Alone and reclining on a richly cushioned couch at the far end is a human woman.

She is not the archivist who bumped into the duo earlier. Or rather, she shares some similar features, but it is as if she cast off that character entirely. The human woman before Ux and Syana now is possessed of breathtaking, unearthly gravity. She dresses in black-and-gold robes that reach the floor, jewelry speaking of high magic and unfathomable wealth adorn her head, her ears, and her clothes down to the exotic gem-encrusted sash at her hips that shimmer with prismatic light. Her otherworldly, gold-speckled gaze bores into Ux and Syana, juxtaposing her gentle smile. In front of her is a cup of hot chocolate and a book of maps she is idly flipping through. Syana notes that the woman bears no aura of magic whatsoever.

The woman gestures and powerful magic suffuses the room. The door swings closed and an arcane sigil appears on its handle. Noises from without are suddenly muffled. A strange sound that can only be described as trickling magic emanates from the walls. Then the woman speaks. Her voice is simultaneously melodious and commanding.   "I'm Iomei the Eternal Witch, the Mistress of Taifun and First Consort to the Great Caliph."   She looks the duo up and down.   "You are Ux Utanar and Syana, and you are very lucky. When you revealed you sought the Noctuary, it was only in the company of the Great Caliph's most trusted retainers. And after that moment of poor judgment, you have shown reasonable discretion. Yes, you heard me right, I know what the Noctuary is. I even know how to reach it, for the Great Caliph and I have been there.

"We have also decided that it would be foolish to draw attention to you by granting you an imperial audience, but he will know of all we speak of here, so do not think that he is not listening. And in his place I shall grant you a secret audience of sorts. Let us start with this: What are your intentions? Why do you seek the Noctuary?"  

 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn enters the lumber mill from the gap under the roof. (See map  Beregost: Large Lumber Mill .) It is a large and tall room, mostly unlit. Lorwyn is not just invisible but in a patch of deep shadow 15 ft. in the air. Large rows of lumber are organized and stacked lengthwise, while at the farther end two large sawing machines stand still, a complex series of gears reaching towards the roof and the massive windmill outside.

Amidst all this is torchlight somewhere towards the center. Lorwyn sees shadows cast by six humanoid figures, all wearing the same black cloak. They have their hoods pulled down—they are not expecting company. Four of them are playing cards around a table, one is preoccupied with sharpening her sword, and the last appears to be nodding off towards the side, against a stack of lumber. Lorwyn notes this last one has a number of wands attached to his chest rig.

  "Your hand, again,"   groans one of the humans.   "Boss... I wanna kill this guy."   The elf sitting next to him laughs and throws his cards onto the table with a victorious flourish.

One of the humans snorts and responds.   "The lord-captains left just minutes ago and we're already at each other's throats, huh?"  

Their voices echo in the large room.


 

 Delja Utorak.  The long sword lady is clear on the other side of the fray so Delja does not make it to her location, but she does manage to get a sneak attack on the individual at  R13 . The solid  whack  Delja delivers, in combination with already sustained injuries, knocks her target unconscious in one blow.

Seeing this, the three remaining figures trying to flee quickly raise their hands in surrender, dropping their weapons. The aggressors cease their attacks immediately, and take to policing the four—including the one Delja knocked out.

One of the crossbowmen opens his mouth to start saying,   "Thank y—"   He is interrupted immediately by the bloodied woman with the long sword.

The woman approaches and speaks directly to Delja.   "Who are you? What do you know of Room 20?"  
  "She jumped out of the window of the room next door,"   explains another one of the crossbowmen.   "Used magic to fly down... I think."  
  "Huh. Then our sincerest apologies for involving you, stranger. These gentlemen—"   the woman nods at the surrendering figures   "—are acquaintances of your neighbor. But I just looked for this neighbor of yours upstairs, and I didn't see him. As for the crates, they're smuggled poisons. Hate to further impose on what should have been a restful evening, but the Lathanderites will have to take custody of them for the town's safety."   She sighs somewhat despondently.   "What an irritating evening... I think we don't have the manpower to move the crates tonight. We'll post guards until the other teams report back in."  

A murmur of agreement rises out of the cloaked men. Indeed, now that they are out of the melee and have pulled their hoods down, Delja can see clearly they bear amulets of Lathander's symbol, the rising sun. By contrast, the surrendering figures wear nothing. Delja sharply observes that the bloodied woman she was speaking with curiously does not herself bear Lathander's sign. Indeed, Delja senses while observing the woman that while she commands respect from the cloaked Lathanderites here, she is definitely not one of them. She has a bearing less like a warrior of a religious order, and more like an adventurer... or rather, of one accustomed to the cloak-and-dagger world.
Chambers
  Lorwyn  
  Damn, just missed them.   Lorwyn glides into position staying near the ceiling.   Kill the mage first.   She thinks and takes aim at the nodding dwarf, letting off a blast of acidic energy that ricochet's to the elf's bow, the elf himself and then the boss.

  "Where did the lord-captains go? Tell me and live."   She floats back after the shot to change her position.

 
 Spoiler 
Using Flyby Attack to move before and after the attack. Attack takes place at 14Y before moving to 14X, as close to 30ft in the air as the ceiling allows.

Eldritch Blast (Chain Blast, Vitrolic Blast)

Attacks are vs flat-footed, touch AC.

Attack vs Dwarf  (1d20+22)[ 40 ] 
Acid Damage  (10d6+1)[ 37 ] 
Sneak Attack  (8d6+20)[ 39 ] 

Attack vs Bow  (1d20+22)[ 24 ] 
Acid Damage  (5d6)[ 18 ] 

Attack vs Elf  (1d20+22)[ 35 ] 
Acid Damage  (5d6)[ 22 ] 

Attack vs Boss  (1d20+22)[ 28 ] 
Acid Damage  (5d6)[ 13 ] 
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana gasps out loud when the woman mentions she has been  there . For a moment she can't even see what it's in front of her; the books she held clatter to the floor, the strength of her limbs stolen.   So close! So close...   Then she remembers herself, and begins by bowing deeply. She has no idea what etiquette has to say about the respect due to consorts, but she will not miss her chance by offending the witch needlessly. Beyond the need for answers, there is much that is ominous about what woman, the title of "Eternal Witch", the obviously magical paraphernalia she wears (aura or no aura), and of course the fact that she has visited the nexus of power. She does not attempt to defend Ux's slip of the tongue; it's up to him to do so if he sees fit; it is to be expected that people would hold the both of them responsible anyway.

" Iomei, you honour us with your presence. Know that I have been longing to hear such words for many years now. " She is thinking furiously about how she should answer, about what the witch wants to hear, what angle she could work to convince her. But there is too much at stake here, so truth must be her blade and her shield. " We each have our own reason. I am a Seeker of the Dragonsong; this is what I have devoted my life too. The Noctuary would, I hope, let me understand and be One with the cosmic song. My people believe the Dragonsong has created the universe, and that it permeates it still. "   And from there I could master it, and the power that comes with it.   But she leaves those words unsaid for now. It is a subtle balance to say enough but not too much, not because she means to dissemble, but because wishing for power invites suspicion - even though almost everybody does so. And it's not just the power that draws her in. The oneness, even if it lasted just an instant, would be the apex of her existence.

Trembling as she awaits... what? a kind of judgment? she sits down, a dim part of her marveling at the luxurious table and the comfortable chairs in what is after all just a study room. She remembers the book, gathers them and sets them on the table. Then too late, she realizes a negotiation might open later, and that she has given away much. What if the witch sets a price impossibly high?   Then we'll be on our way again   she answers to herself, glumly but resolutely, as her fingers caress the engravings on the tabletop. 
 
  
Metastachydium
  Ah.   It's a good thing she punched one of the guys who were already losing, Delja figures, as her shoulders drop. Longsword suddenly looks altogether too much like her a decade or so ago, and that's not a good thing to look at. She'll probably burn all the way out, in time. No point stabbing her.   That figures. A friend of mine said someone puked the insides all out in… Some other tavern, I think? Sounds like they got a thing going.   she turns around.   You know what, how about we make a couple deals. One, you guard all that crap  in quiet , and in turn, I won't stab anyone else for the night. Two…   she pauses, beginning to move back towards the inn.   Our man 20 I last saw bleeding on the ground. A buddy of his bailed him out. Half-Elf. Used a scroll. Roughly more of what you fought in there.   she motions past the woman.   20 himself… He's a bit of a big fish for your crew. A bit of a big fish for petty smuggling, too.   The Nixie keeps on walking.   Now, if we could all pretend you never saw me and we never talked, that would be sweet.   her blade back under her cloak, she steps inside.   Good night.  
remetagross
Ux Utanar's jaw drops outright when her host mentions she has  been  to the Noctuary, at the same time Syana's books fall to the ground. For a brief moment, he remains speechless, and stares at Iomei with a blank stare, stunned. After Syana has expressed herself, he takes a moment to regain his bearings and ready his answer. No point in being deceitful in any manner, that's not the way he is, anyway.

He, too, proceeds to a very respectuous bow. He then looks at the sorceress in the eyes, and speaks with a confident tone.  
"I second my comrade. I am utterly amazed at learning you have been to this place, and this is a very lucky day indeed for me. I thank you, my Lady, for granting us this interview."   and he makes another, small bow.

  "I have indeed been somewhat careless by revealing outright to the retinue of the Caliph the true aim of our journey. However, I know believe it is the Lord of the North Wind himself that guided my tongue on this moment: had I said anything else than these specific words, we would probably be not standing before you as we speak. Therefore, confident in the destiny he has laid out before me, I will continue speaking from my heart."   Not that I think I could successfully bluff a wyrmling, anyway.  
  "I am a Dragonborn of Bahamut, sworn to the cause of the poor and the weak. My pilgrimage across the multiverse has taught me...sometimes in a very personal way...that however strong one might be, one will eventually face a stronger person animated with harmful intent. Even the mightiest planeswalker will fall to an Obyrith. While the merest commoner will be killed as an innocent bystander in a war foreign to them. I wish to stop that."  
  Now, time to spill the beans.  
  "I do not know at all how my wish can be achieved, let alone how. But I want to access the Noctuary to erase all differences in power across all individuals in the multiverse. If no one is strong, then no one is weak. If a balor is as potent as a shoe-maker, the shoe-maker will not be afraid of the dark anymore. This is the goal of my quest."  
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  Iomei snorts when she hears Syana and Ux's responses. She leans her cheek on one hand while stirring her chocolate with the other, black hair sparkling with gold ribbons cascading like a stream down beneath the table. With a small smile she says,  "Just the language of creation and total cosmic balance? Modest dreams! You do not know what the Noctuary is, do you? You speak in generalities like it's a machine that grants wishes. You speak its name publicly for you don't understand that its name has power. It is true that you found your way here with its name, but know that most seekers of the Noctuary would slay you no sooner than had the word left your lips. You may not understand it yet, but you are competition—to us, and others." 

With icy calm, Iomei elegantly places her spoon to the side and sips her chocolate. Its rich aroma permeates the room. She continues, now without a smile:  "You are for now lucky, as killing without good cause is not our way. I see you have amassed a true wealth in magical articles. No doubt you are strong by the standards of Prime mortals. But His Eminence and I practice true dweomer, as do many seekers of the Noctuary. Are you ready for that?

"And that is where your luck ends. You would only end up dead, lives forfeit to some epic planar mage. And even should you avoid this fate, the Noctuary is not a simple thing. I cannot just bring you there and see your dreams come to be. We assess the Noctuary has not been activated in around three centuries, for it is beyond the means of even epic mages. His Eminence and I—we have not managed to make use of the place. No seeker in this great cosmic game has, not since... well, three centuries ago.

"So what is to be done with you two, hmm? I suggest you forget the Noctuary, forget its name and existence. You two seem capable, you can carve out space for your dreams in the waking world with your own two hands... or more realistic versions of your dreams, anyways." 

 

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Taking the wand-wielding dwarf by surprise, Lorwyn's acidic bolt melts a hole through his upper torso and partially eats into the logs he was resting against. He is instantly dead. The acid leaps and chains among the group. There are yelps among the loud sounds of sizzling clothes and flesh. Lorwyn herself flies 20 ft. up, hugging the rafted ceiling, her wings of shadow taking care to avoid collisions with structural elements. A cool breeze circulates up here.

 Turn Order.  Lorwyn ➝ Human 2 ➝ Elf 1 ➝ Elf 2 ➝ Human 1 ("Boss") ➝ Human 3. It is now Lorwyn's turn.

Lorwyn moves with such speed that she can act again before any others react. She can of course delay her action as usual, if she wishes to hear a response first.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  The woman raises an eyebrow.  "Appreciate the intel."  With a quick series of commands, she has the men search and strip the belongings of the surrendering Zhentarim, then six of hers promptly escort them down the street. The remaining two and the woman join Delja in entering the inn.

The waiting woman from earlier in the day is up in a frumpy night gown, looking down at two bodies—the men who had escaped Delja earlier. She steps back to avoid the slowly widening pool of blood.  "What's this?" 
 "Lathanderite business,"  says the cloaked woman dully, looking around as if expecting more trouble.

 "Oh, aye? You left me bodies, and you got my guests mixed all up in it."  The waiting woman's voice is disapproving, as she takes note of Delja's presence.

 "You'll get restitution tomorrow, I swear it. But now, now we're placing a room of yours under guard. Twenty, I believe. Is it paid for?" 
 "It is paid. Will you bother my guests further? Ah, and I shall have to clean..."  In the entryway of Feldepost's is evidence of battle.

 "For now, ten dragons for the trouble. All I have on me."  The cloaked woman finds the coins after some rummaging and drops it in the waiting woman's outstretched hands.  "Let us deal with the bodies. I'd stay to help with the cleaning, but tonight... tonight is busy. I'm sorry. We'll try to be discrete."  The cloaked woman sniffs and turns to her companions.  "Let's move all the... 'goods' into room twenty proper. The dead ones, we'll stuff them in the stables for now. The militia should be around to pick them up soon. You, go upstairs first, and  you  will help me with the bodies." 

With that, the cloaked woman and one of the Lathanderites pick up the bodies, in the process getting smeared with blood. They do not seem bothered as they begin to carry the bodies down a first floor hall. The other Lathanderite starts up the stairs. The waiting woman looks rather displeased but is somewhat mollified by the coin.

The waiting woman turns to Delja.  "You okay, dear? And your friend, is she back yet?" 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  Slow mages make dead mages.   Lorwyn says to herself.   Better you than me.   She turns her attention to the remaining cultists and spreads her fingers wide, palm facing the ground. She lifts her hand and writhing black tentacles emerge from the floor and begin thrashing at anything they can grab.   "Talk. Or Die."  
 
 Spoiler 
Chilling Tentacles (placed on the map). Scoot over to 12X, same height.

Human 1 Grapple  (1d20+25)[ 36 ] 
Human 2 Grapple  (1d20+25)[ 40 ] 
Human 3 Grapple  (1d20+25)[ 34 ] 
Elf 1 Grapple  (1d20+25)[ 39 ] 
Elf 2 Grapple  (1d20+25)[ 35 ] 


Grapple Damage  (1d6+4)[ 7 ] 
Cold Damage  (2d6)[ 11 ] 
 
remetagross
If Ux had still been human, his ears would have reddened with humiliation. Good thing he's a lizard, now. Slowly, he takes in what has just been said. Slowlier, he starts to muster an answer.

  "...well, my Lady, I must confess that this is, more or less, how I envisioned it - a wish-granting machine. While this might seem childish, in my mind, the use of the Noctuary would have been performed through the will of Bahamut one way or another - beyond my comprehension anyway...or yours. I...must thank you for the gift of knowledge you have imparted upon us by revealing that this was not the case. And while I cannot speak for my comrade, I have no interest in engaging in a fight with anyone either, and least of all His Eminence. Not only because I doubt I could live through it, but also because extracting anything from violence would...pretty much achieve the exact opposite of my goal, wouldn't it? The ends do not justify the means."  

He exhales visibly, having regained his composure.
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape with human alternate form)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana will not let herself be cowed so easily. She  did  expect some competition on the way to Noctuary, for power attracts power, though perhaps not something as... established as it seems to be. Ignoring the trickle of sweat down her back - it's been years since someone has threatened her so dismissively -, she speaks out firmly: " We appreciate your warnings, and the assurance that you will let us live. We cannot be fully ready for true dweomer, as you know full well, better than I. But even I, practitioner of, and believer in high magic, knows that there are other forces at play beyond it. The gods for one. And Destiny. So we will take our chances: speaking for myself, I am fully prepared to fail in this quest and fully determined to keep trying. The way you speak about it, it seems your failure hasn't deterred you either, hasn't it?

Answer me this: do you  know  for certain why you couldn't make use of the Noctuary? Or is all you have a web of conjectures and theories? Because my heart tells me that it is not power alone that unlocks it - otherwise, as you say, one of the many pretenders would have done so successfully more recently. " She is telling the truth, but also using it as a weapon: the more she says, the more the witch reacts to, the more they will learn about their goal.

" And if there are missing pieces, well, maybe luck or Bahamut or the Dragonsong will guide our steps to one, then two... " 
 
  
Metastachydium
Delja leans against the closest table as the other two speak. She'll have to play this out, then, sadly, but  at least  she's actually really tired. That should help make her look the part.   No. Not at all.   she shakes her head most coyly.   Sarah came back earlier; she works with animals, has a light step. You probably didn't notice. But then we had this  disagreement , and she stormed off. I have no idea where she even  is  now.   she makes her best impression of a concerned face.   Short while ago, I hear some commotion, think it's her. It wasn't. It was this… Bunch of armed men, and one of them  stabbed  me.   she indicates the wound with her left, before pulling her cloak back close around herself.   I had luck enough to get out, but then there wa this battle outside, and these church people  being absolute  jerks.     she lowers her voice, briefly, as though afraid they might hear her. She could be, on second thought; they might not be able to tell she's not truthful, but the marked and sudden shift in  tone  from "I'll kill you all" to "scared"… Even a bunch of nitwits like these should have difficulty missing that. She'll have to trust they want to handle this, discreetly, overall.   Who was this guy in room 20, anyhow?   she looks up, just as suddenly.   And do these…  Things  just happen here these days?  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluff, of course, to preserve that sweet incognito in front of the one person present she hasn't yet truly entertained stabbing to death:  (1d20+21)[ 31 ] 
 
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  Iomei considers as she sips chocolate. Then her smile returns, her eyes twinkling gold.  "We are missing some of the ingredients we need to bake this cake. Some of these missing ingredients are... difficult to harvest and process. Others seem unattainable, and the search for adequate substitutes has proven to be an extraordinary challenge. Then, of course, many of the ingredients we only have partial-to-no understanding of. The other players of this great game fare no better. It is a slow and methodical game spanning decades. All of its surviving players have learned to exercise extreme caution.

"His Eminence and I offered this meeting out of curiosity and potential for mutual exchange, but this has confirmed that you are only fledgling players on the game board. We are still willing to deal, of course. Should you stumble on any of these... missing ingredients in the future, or credible information as to their whereabouts, in exchange for them I would happily let you in on all I know of the Noctuary. His Eminence says that he can also put a king's ransom of jewelry on the table. Unless you have something to offer now, though, I consider this meeting to be over."  She finishes her chocolate in one big, unrefined gulp and pats her lips clean with a silken sash.


 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  Light from the flickering candles on the tables push back the great shadows cast between the tall lumber piles. It is between this region of light and dark that the combat proceeds. The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril ➝ Human 2 ➝ Elf 1 ➝ Elf 2 ➝ Human 1 ➝ Human 3.

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Eldritch tentacles burst from the ground, the field spreading to the lumber piles but failing to penetrate past them. They nonetheless envelop and grapple the entire lumber mill group. Human 1 and Human 3 do surprisingly well in almost escaping the vice-grip of the eldritch tentacles with their sheer strength, but in the end fail.

 Human 2.  He attempts to dexterously escape the tentacles but fails. Frostbite sets in as he is crushed by the tentacles. He grunts.

 Elf 1.  He also attempts to dexterously escape the tentacles but fails. Between his acid burns, the frostbite of Lorwyn's  chilling tentacles , and said tentacles' crushing force, he looks to be near death as is. He gasps for air.

 Elf 2.  She very suddenly teleports from  Q12  onto the lumber pile at  Q10 , or more accurately, onto its side then clambering atop it. She is sporting acid burns, frostbite, and deep purple bruises beneath her torn cloak, evidence of Lorwyn's  chilling tentacles . She coughs as she regains her footing, but she is quickly back in motion, jumping down from  Q10  and onto the floor at  Q9 , then scurrying around the lumber pile to take cover at  O8 .

 Human 1.  Just as with the elf, he also suddenly teleports from  U13  to  W13 . He is sporting acid burns, frostbite, and bruises from crushing, but looks to have endured them much better. He seems to shift his stance, closing his eyes for a brief moment, then in an instant he opens his eyes and his head pivots to where Lorwyn is. In a fluid, powerful motion, he sprints  up  the log pile at  W14  and leaps the additional gap between him and Lorwyn, and his pearlescent sword comes out swinging in quicksilver motion—and he hits. Lorwyn takes 45 hp damage.

 "Invis! Here!"  he shouts. He is still 15 ft. in the air and begins to fall.

 Human 3.  He attempts to force his way out of the eldritch tentacles but fails. Frostbite sets in as he is crushed. He makes choking sounds.

It is Lorwyn's turn again.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  If the waiting woman was suspicious of Delja, she does not show it.

Rather, she snorts.  "Fights? Yeah, not the first bit of blood I've had to clean up. Goes back even, legends say some fool in here picked a fight with a Bhaalspawn who passed through. Don't think we're ever topping that one, if it even happened. But I've never seen the Lathanderites up and about like this. Usually keep to their temple-fort, you know. Don't actually know the lady now I think on it, which is weird cause the town ain't that big, but the lads have been around for years. Ah, but anyways, you were asking about your neighbor. Yeah, he came in from Baldur's Gate this morning. Traveling potions and oils merchant, he says.

"Anyhow girl, you're acting  fine  but you sure you don't need that wound looked at? I've dressed cuts aplenty, you know, 'specially back when the Iron Crisis was in full swing." 

The cloaked woman and her entourage have left.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

Though she flinches away from the sword blow by instinct the pain itself is dulled thanks to one of her rings. It doesn't stop her from crying out in pain.   "Awwwyyouch!"   She shouts and then scowls at the swordsman.   "So. No one wants to talk? Fine, watch this!"   She says as she floats away from the swordsman. She makes an obscene gesture with her free hand at him.   Maybe he can see me?   She flies over the crates enough to be able to see the elf who escaped the tentacles.

She glances back at the swordsman and then picks her targets for the jumps. A blast of energy erupts from her hands towards the elf, then jumps to the table holding potions before slamming into the elf and then the shiny sword that's still got her blood on it. She then flies as far away from the swordsman as she can.

 
 Spoiler 
Using Flyby Attack to move, shoot, and move. She's wasting one of her additional attacks to hit the potion table because the other targets are too far away from the elf. Hammer Blast will do full damage to the table and the sword.

Move to T10, Eldritch Blast (Chain/Hammer), move to O10.

Additional Acid damage to Elf 1, Longbow, Boss:  (1d6)[ 3 ] 

Grapple Checks for  (1d6+4)[ 6 ]  grapple damage and  (2d6)[ 9 ]  cold damage.
Elf 1  (1d20+25)[ 42 ] 
Human 3  (1d20+25)[ 34 ] 
Human 2  (1d20+25)[ 37 ] 

Attack vs Elf 2  (1d20+22)[ 41 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (10d6+1)[ 45 ] 
Sneak Attack  (8d6+20)[ 45 ] 

Attack vs Potion Table!  (1d20+22)[ 35 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 20 ] 

Attack vs Elf 1  (1d20+22)[ 28 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 20 ] 

Attack vs Boss Sword  (1d20+22)[ 23 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 18 ] 

Lorwyn has a Ring of Regeneration so the sword does nonlethal damage (and DR 2/Cold Iron). In addition to Invisibility she has Hide in Plain Sight, Darkstalker and a Minor Cloak of Displacement. Some, all, or none of that may be relevant depending on how good sword guy is; I'm cool with whatever. Had to actually check her defenses since this is the first time she's been attacked.
 
remetagross
Upon hearing this, Ux Utanar's instinct immediately warns him that the moment is key in shaping a lot of their future endeavours. Iomei is, in essence, offering them to become partners of some sort in the pursuit of activating the Noctuary. Except she has said nothing of what  she  would do with it, should they succeed. They could very well be on the verge of associationg with a duo of powers with malignous intent.

Except that Bahamut has, somehow, answered his prayer. The general outcome of this interview is not poised to have Ux Utanar fall in disgrace in the eye of his god. That, plus the fact that the witch has been handing out more intel about the Noctuary than the past months of adventuring put together. His intellect is progressively aligning with his instinct - and the defiant stance of Syana.

  "I care little for gems or anything of the sort. And I don't have anything I can offer to you or your consort, my lady - except if you happen to have a generic, as of now unsatisfied, need for the intervention of a champion of Bahamut. However, we shall make good on your terms of exchange."   And he bows one more time.
Metastachydium
 
 Originally Posted by chaincomplex 
  "Don't actually know the lady now I think on it, which is weird cause the town ain't that big, but the lads have been around for years.  
 

  She doesn't  look  church.   Delja interjects with a sagely nod, making sure not to sound too knowledgeable on the matter, nevertheless. She's just some Halfling from somewhere, after all.


  "Anyhow girl, you're acting  fine  but you sure you don't need that wound looked at? I've dressed cuts aplenty, you know, 'specially back when the Iron Crisis was in full swing."  

…so far as anyone can  see , anyway. This much is always an issue. She shouldn't be so frugal about these things. There sure must be some kind of trinket that does this better than her dirty little string. She very nearly sighs. Some days, it's not easy being blue and scaly.   Ah, that?   she makes a show of looking down at where the wound is under the cloak, and to even tap the rough area lightly.   Thank you much, but I got real lucky there. Doesn't even bleed anymore.   She's still probably cursed alright, or whatever else it did, but dressing the thing won't help sort that out.   I think I'll manage.   she nods again, reassuringly.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluffing on to the tune of "no, I'm totally fine and not just a creepy, scaly blue fairy who doesn't want you to know she's a creepy, scaly blue fairy, why would you think that":  (1d20+21)[ 40 ] 
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape with human alternate form)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana, though seated, is trying to think on her feet. " Let me consider the terms of this 'deal', very much an alliance of  un equals, but we do not dispute this is what we are.

You do not mention which ingredients you are missing, so how are we to know whether to contact you or not? It's both disadvantageous for us to tell you about our every find, and bothersome for you. I'm sure you can suggest something smart in that regard based on your vaster knowledge, without revealing anything you want kept secret.

Then you do not indicate how we are to contact you - even though you'd certainly like to hide any find from rivals, so not just any simple messenger will do.

Lastly, I'd request one final piece of information that I believe does not cost you anything: do you know who was the last creature to activate the Noctuary, and what they made of it? "

Whatever answer Iomei provides, she will bow with renewed respect - and a more than a tinge of envy - as the witch leaves the room. 
 
  
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  Syana makes her pitch for more information as diplomatically as she can. She seems to enjoy moderate success in this; Iomei's expression turns thoughtful and the epic witch says,  "No player in this game can claim to have such a grasp on the Noctuary that stating the possible forms of  ingredients  can be done with confidence. The simplest that would be useful are tomes or scrolls that credibly describe the Noctuary's operation in part or in whole, but I'm not aware of any such writings out there, at least none that are within mortal reach, unless you feel ready to dive into Asmodeus's realm. Or it could be the crystallized essence of some metaphysical structure like time or love, if you—or indeed, any of us really—can identify such a thing. If you  do  come across any such an artifact, even should you only have information about it or it should turn out to be unrelated to the Noctuary, I will happily fulfill my end of the bargain. Or, if you can find any good information regarding the whereabouts of the Noctuary's creator—even if it's just verified hints and rumors—I will also consider that fulfillment.

"That is the answer to your last question, as it were. We have determined that the Noctuary's creator remains to this day the only being to successfully activate the Noctuary. Thirty-three times at that. If you want a riddle, we have also determined that the creator never named themselves the beneficiary of the Noctuary's magic. His Eminence and I have been discussing this matter and we've seen fit to share one piece of knowledge with you, that is, the identity of the Noctuary's creator.

"The Noctuary is the work of Nimh the Serpent. Sufficiently learned epic arcanists will know this name—Nimh is behind immense feats of magic such as the Shadowspace Anomaly, the Voidships of Thasia, the Lighthouse at the End of Time, among other things—but they have not been seen in the Arcane Inner Flow or the neighborhood of Great Wheel for centuries by Factol Hashkar's reckoning. The scholarly consensus is that they are dead, given their infamous exploratory deep dives into the Far Realms—such things never end well. However, His Eminence and I suspect that Nimh is still out there, and many seekers of the Noctuary share similar hopes. Most of our disagreement with orthodoxy comes from the immense amount of divination magics we have thrown at this problem, to what is admittedly at best minimal progress and vaguely refined guesses.

"We have several ideas on how to find Nimh, but I have little confidence in any of them, and we will not share them for now to keep our competitive advantage—until you have something of your own to share, that is. And when you do, contact us by  sending . Avoid messengers, avoid coming to us in person. Messengers can have their memories ripped from them, and our activities are under strict scrutiny by our competitors. On that note, we will not name you honored guests after this visit. Strangers being privileged guests of His Eminence twice in a row will attract too much attention. This means, among other things, that this should be your last visit to the Archives.

"Best of luck, Syana and Ux Utanar. You will need it. We will need it."  With a wave of her hand, Iomei relinquishes her grasp on the magic surrounding the room, and it dissipates into the mundane. At the same time, she takes on the appearance of the bookish archivist from earlier. With a wink, she takes her now-empty cup and vanishes into thin air.


 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  The sounds of scattered raindrops hitting the roof can be heard. The scent of wet fields wafts in from above. In the candlelit dark of the lumber mill, between looming 10 ft. piles of logs, the battle continues.

 Lorwyn Suaril.  As soon as Lorwyn flies off, her assailant's head stops tracking her. That is, until she lets off her eldritch blast, at which point the swordsman's head pivots to  T10 . The hammer bolt strikes the wounded elf at  O8 , the sheer energy crushing her upper torso like a rag doll and instantly killing her. The bolt leaps around the log pile—with Lorwyn's guidance and aim—and strikes the potion table, shattering the table in two and causing the vials to shatter on the floor in colorful pools of their contents. Then the bolt chains to the longbow elf, battering him brutally. Finally, Lorwyn attempts to guide the bolt to the swordsman at  W13 , but she loses control and the bolt veers off to dissipate harmlessly.

 Human 2.  Attempts to nimbly slip out from the tentacles but fails utterly. The tentacles reassert their powerful, chilling grip. The man chokes and coughs up blood. His skin, frostbitten and battered from the crushing force, has become gory and slick with blood. He breathes shallowly and quickly. He is nearly dead.

 Elf 1.  Between his acid burns deepening, the frostbite climbing up his neck, and the crushing tentacles that constrict him, the longbow elf at  T12  breathes his last as his eyes dim. He is dead.

 Human 1.  The swordsman nimbly lands on the ground and, in a spurt of incredible speed, runs from  W13  to the log pile at  W11 , dashes up it, then pivots around to  U10 , at which point he leaps 6 ft. straight up and strikes midair at  T10  where Lorwyn had attacked from. There is of course nothing there, but his blade makes a beautiful whistle as it slices through the air.

He grimaces as he shuts his eyes and begins once again trying to perceive with whatever sixth sense he had called on earlier.  "Harpers, always meddling in business that's not yours."  He spits.  "Well, you wish to meet the lord-captains of our little band of merry men? They are off to deal with your comrade at Feldepost's, for that little ambush you sprung on us. This is their cordial invitation to the little slaughter they plan to hold—if you can make it in time! Of course, I'm  more than happy  to keep you entertained until they return, if you'd rather stay. Shouldn't be too long 'til they're back, we'd  hate  to be poor hosts after all." 
 Human 3.  He attempts to force his way out from the grapple but fails once again. He is doing better than his bowman compatriot at  T12 , and seems to still have some fight in him. Nonetheless it is all he can do to withstand the crushing and chilling force of Lorwyn's tentacles.

The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril ➝ Human 2 ➝ Human 1 ➝ Human 3. It is Lorwyn's turn again.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  The sound of rain pattering on the front windows can be heard. The room still smells of the blood that had pooled on the floor, but at least the bodies are gone.

The waiting woman sighs.  "Girl, I'm not an idiot."  For a moment it seems that she saw through Delja's bluff, but this confusion is cleared up in her next line.  "You're just like my late husband. He'd come back from a fight all bloodied up, but laugh it off. Say it's nothing. Thinks he's being strong for us, but what'd we do if he takes a fever from infection? How would Beregost protect itself from bandits? Fine, girl, do as you will; but if that cut starts turning funny colors, come get me. It's better than you passing out while on the road on the 'morrow. Now where'd I leave that mop and bucket..."  She wanders off to the back rooms.

The cloaked swordswoman from earlier reenters the room with the Lathanderite warrior.  "Join your friend upstairs,"  she commands the Lathanderite, who nods and ascends the stairs. Then the swordswoman turns to Delja.  "Still here? If you're willing to chat, I'd like to hear more about this man in Room Twenty. By the looks of things, you fought him, did you not? Well... it's a little late for debriefing. If you'd rather be off to bed, I shan't keep you. Goodnight. I'll deal with the horses, help the staff with cleaning, but I'll be back upstairs to inspect Room Twenty in detail later. We'll try to be quiet."  She sighs and opens a pouch at her side. Delja sees that it is much larger on the inside than on the outside—it is a  bag of holding . The swordswoman pulls fabric from the pouch and begins wiping blood from her sword.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "Did you just call me a  Harper ?!"   Lorwyn sputters, shocked by the accusation.   "I thought your clothing was insult enough but that's really too much."   She shakes her head and floats out into the open before firing off another blast at the swordsman, this one dripping with acid. It ricochets to his sword and then the two remaining humans grappling with the tentacles.

  "Harpers."   She says with disgust and then floats a few feet away to try and confuse his senses.

 
 Spoiler 
Lorwyn, Round 3.
Flyby Attack with a Chained Vitrolic Blast. Trying to keep her total movement lower this turn to reduce her stealth penalties.

Move to P12.
Eldritch Blast (Chain, Vitrolic)
Move to 14Q.
Total movement for round: 25ft

Vitrolic acid damage to Boss:  (1d6)[ 5 ]  damage.

Grapple Checks for  (1d6+4)[ 6 ]  grapple damage and  (2d6)[ 6 ]  cold damage.
Human 2  (1d20+25)[ 37 ] 
Human 3  (1d20+25)[ 44 ] 

Attack vs Boss  (1d20+22)[ 34 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid  (10d6+1)[ 35 ] 
Sneak Attack  (8d6+20)[ 44 ] 

Attack vs Boss Sword  (1d20+22)[ 30 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid  (5d6)[ 14 ] 

Attack vs Human 2  (1d20+22)[ 25 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid   (5d6)[ 13 ] 

Attack vs Human 3  (1d20+22)[ 41 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid   (5d6)[ 19 ] 
 
Metastachydium
 
 Originally Posted by chaincomplex 
 ]
 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  The sound of rain pattering on the front windows can be heard. The room still smells of the blood that had pooled on the floor, but at least the bodies are gone.

The waiting woman sighs.  "Girl, I'm not an idiot."  For a moment it seems that she saw through Delja's bluff, but this confusion is cleared up in her next line.  "You're just like my late husband. He'd come back from a fight all bloodied up, but laugh it off. Say it's nothing. Thinks he's being strong for us, but what'd we do if he takes a fever from infection? How would Beregost protect itself from bandits? Fine, girl, do as you will; but if that cut starts turning funny colors, come get me. It's better than you passing out while on the road on the 'morrow. Now where'd I leave that mop and bucket..."  She wanders off to the back rooms. 
 

It's a funny thing how she'll have to worry about the little things more than anything, these days. Well, apart from strange creeps with cursed swords in the middle of quiet country towns, of course, but still. Thankfully, this woman at least knows what  space  is and will, by the look of it, give Delja hers for now.   Thank you.   she offers a parting nod, grateful, if only for discretion and delivered with a show of looking even more tired than she really is. She kept her edge in that much, at least, much as Lorwyn might disapprove of it: she's not going to just hand out trust left and right and stare all dumb when someone comes to stab her.


 The cloaked swordswoman from earlier reenters the room with the Lathanderite warrior.  "Join your friend upstairs,"  she commands the Lathanderite, who nods and ascends the stairs. Then the swordswoman turns to Delja.  "Still here? If you're willing to chat, I'd like to hear more about this man in Room Twenty. By the looks of things, you fought him, did you not? Well... it's a little late for debriefing. If you'd rather be off to bed, I shan't keep you. Goodnight. I'll deal with the horses, help the staff with cleaning, but I'll be back upstairs to inspect Room Twenty in detail later. We'll try to be quiet."  She sighs and opens a pouch at her side. Delja sees that it is much larger on the inside than on the outside—it is a  bag of holding . The swordswoman pulls fabric from the pouch and begins wiping blood from her sword. 

…in other ways, she's of course way out of it. She  still  hasn't got around to cleaning her own sword, and  now  she can't do it without looking silly. It's a good thing she can always turn it into something that doesn't corrode. But right now, the  nerve  of the church woman annoys her even more than her own various shortcmings.    I don't sleep.    she whispers at her, barely on this side of mencaing, as though she were relaying some sinister secret. Mostly she just doesn't want to innkeeper to hear her, but the sword lady doesn't need to know that.   But…  Debrief  me?   she begins to shuffle around her and towards the stairs.   That's a choice of words.   she grimaces. She's not really one of her farmboy flunkies.   Look, I can tell you're not from here. Got roped into this for some  specific  reason, even, I'd reckon. Wanna tell me what's going on, maybe?   she looks at the woman without blinking.   I might be happier to chat after.  
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape with human alternate form)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana rises up and replies " and luck to you " at the end, with a neutral-to-warm expression and tone. Then she sits back down a little too heavily, and contemplates the table in silence.

The silence stretches.

Then suddenly Syana can't contain it anymore, and she jumps up, almost sending her chair crashing down, and exclaims: " We've done it!! Well, no, we haven't, but we have the best lead we could imagine! Of course, it's going to be much more difficult than we knew, but it's better to know! " She paces back and forth, manic, for she has too much energy and needs to let it out. She stops from time to time in front of Ux to deliver key sentences with more emphasis.

" Right now, we should make use of the Archives. Since we may not come back ever. I don't know about you, but I feel like researching the relationship between the Dragonsong and some oddities, like the Lighthouse at the End of Time. " She's sticking to her public story about the Dragonsong, though she hopes no one but the Witch would spy on them here. Of course what she really intends is to find out more about Nimh. She doesn't expect a major epiphany, but any insight on the Noctuary's creator can only help them understand the Noctuary.

  That bit about him never using the Noctuary for himself... That sounds ominous. Perhaps it can't be used the way you intend, and you should prepare yourself to have your dream dashed, Syana.   
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
What Knowledge(s) skills are appropriate to recall information about  : Nimh, the Shadowspace Anomaly, the Voidships of Thasia, the Lighthouse at the End of Time, the Arcane Inner Flow?

NB: Syana will take 10, and burn as many spells slots (2) as needed on Improvisation to get a +11 luck bonus to each of the checks.
That gets her 41 on K Arcana, 43 on K Planes and 27 on other Knowledges.

Oh, and I'm not sure how ot interpret "they have not been seen in the Arcane Inner Flow or the neighborhood of Great Wheel for centuries  by Factol Hashkar's reckoning ". If the mention of the Factol about time measurements? Or about Nimh? If the latter - or if Syana doesn't know - add him to the list of Knowledge topics.
 
remetagross
Ux Utanar is surprised by Syana's outburst.
  
"What? We've done it?? Ah...well yeah, I guess we did, in a way. I mean, we'd never learnt that much about the Noctuary within such a short span of time before!"  

He paces back and forth with her comrade, though slowlier.
  
"I agree. This place is a font of knowledge, and we'll be hard-pressed to ever find another one with such a freedom of access. Shall we go? And oh, I've just thought about something -"  

Ux Utanar keeps on pacing around.

  "-you can currently communicate telepathically, can't you? Probably like 95% of all residents of this place."  
  We should convene about some sort of signal to indicate to the other we want to use telepathy. Maybe if you call me "Ux Ut" instead of "Ux", as if it were another nickname for "Ux Utanar tibur Randall Amblecrown"? And I need something similar for you.  
  "Let's be on our way. I want to research a couple things about my connections in Sigil."  
namo
     Syana      (Solar shape with human alternate form)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana had readied herself, but she's not fast enough and Ux is able to utter most of the word "Noctua-" before she cuffs him on the cheek. Or the shoulder. Whatever she can reach.
" Uuuuuux.  No more saying that word!  It'll be known as the N-word from now on. No, wait, that doesn't sound right, and it's too noticeable. Let's call it... " she flounders, at a loss for inspiration. " Ah, I know. Let's call it the Kundelich. Like it's a work of art from that draconic artist from Sigil - quite famous, though I can't say I understand his rather amorphous sculptures.

And no, I cannot communicate telepathically, but wait a moment. " She concentrates briefly and turns into a pseudragon.

 &lt;&lt; There, now we can talk mind-to-mind. Note that even that is not completely foolproof in terms of privacy, but really it should be good enough in most situations. I'll need to turn back into a humanoid shape to pursue my research, however. &gt;&gt; 
 
 
  
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  The illuminating crystal chandeliers high above cast no shadows on the books on the table. A light fragrance of chocolate still lingers in the air, as does a certain warmth, both likely of the room's magic rather than any natural process. Syana notes that Iomei left  her  book, an unnamed collection of maps with only the Draconic numbering  CXX.VI.IX  on its robust binding. For now, Syana focuses on what she knows of Nimh the Serpent, and arcana and planar sciences are as good a place to start as any. She  has  run into the name before in the rarer tracts of the great mages. This is what she knows:

 
 Nimh the Serpent is an ancient archfey, their true form said to be a winged serpent, though they frequently shapeshifted into humanoids. Among practitioners of the Art, Nimh was best known for their artifact-making; but they are believed to be long-dead by now, most likely claimed by the Far Realms in an ill-conceived expedition. 
 Unlike other great planes-spanning mages such as Canabulum, Ioulaum, or Sharlee, Nimh does not leave publications or apprentices in their wake; only leaving a trail of artifacts behind. The five best known are the  Codices of Paradox , the  Leviathan Tapestry , the  Lighthouse at the End of Time , the  Made God's Veil , and the  Voidships of Thasia . 
 Some place in the deep Astral Sea in planar conjunction with Shadowspace, Nimh is said to have battled two unknown gods. With certain death—or worse—imminent, Nimh unleashed a cosmic torrent of magic to collapse a section of space and time, and trap one or both of the gods in a time loop; this is the so-called  Shadowspace Anomaly . 
 
Syana knows the following about Nimh's artifacts:

 
 The  Codices of Paradox  are a collection of Nimh's magical studies into how the physical and metaphysical laws of the Material Plane are shaped. It is long-lost, though its last possessor is rumored to have been the baernoloth Harishek ap Thulkesh of the Clockwork Gap. 
 The  Leviathan Tapestry  is a colossal, flying golem-creature, contained within it a demiplane the size of a continent. It is currently under the protection of the god Helm, allowed to wander freely and unmolested in the realms of Celestia and Nirvana. 
 The  Lighthouse at the End of Time  is a work of the highest arcane theory, a beacon built to "find" the "end of time". The meaning and implications of this, both physical and metaphysical, are hotly debated by epic arcanists to today. The beacon is currently in the possession of Mercane Union Council. 
 The  Made God's Veil  is either a robe or a suit of armor—depending on the telling of this legend—that grants divinity to the wearer. It is said that some foolhardy adventurer found it in some forgotten crypt, wore it without identifying it, then tried to cross a planar gateway into Sigil, at which point the adventurer was mazed by the Lady of Pain and never seen again. 
 The  Voidships of Thasia  are five colossal planar vessels built to withstand the most brutal of planar and spelljamming environments. They were intended to travel into the supermassive spheres of annihilation at the edges of the Known Flow. Only two of the  Voidships  undertook this journey before Nimh cut the project short. Nimh would eventually trade the remaining three to, respectively, the Mercane Union Council, Grand Sultan Marrake al-Sidan, and Vulkaran the Dark. 
 
Syana knows as well that Factol Hashkar of the Fraternity of Order in Sigil is the  de facto  timekeeper for the multiverse, at least in the neighborhood of Sigil, and so it is standard practice for well-studied planar travelers to preface subjective times with Hashkar's calendar. She also knows that the Arcane Inner Flow is the quadrant of the Flow (as in, the spelljammer's  Flow ) containing, formally per the original cartography of Queen Amlaruil Moonflower, the worlds of Refuge, Pirtel, and Damannon; though in practice often taken to include Realmspace, Greyspace, and Krynnspace as well, and really most of the crystal spheres that see heavy spelljammer trade.

This is all she knows just off the top of her head, but it is a hefty amount, on par with most any archmage on the Material Plane; she should be proud. To conduct research within the Archives would be a time-consuming task. First she should define her research questions precisely, then make the appropriate Knowledge rolls representing the field whose techniques she wishes to use to tackle these questions, then she will see how far she can get after investing some amount of time she chooses (in hours or days, per research question). Though of course little of this can happen in pseudodragon form given the relative size and heft of the Archive's many tomes, at least not without Ux's assistance.


 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  The rain intensifies, its noise resounding. In the candlelit dark of the lumber mill, between looming piles of logs, the battle continues.

 Lorwyn Suaril.  As Lorwyn unleashes her vitriolic blast at the "boss", the swordsman attempts to deflect the blast to the side with a swift blade parry. He moves with an uncanny speed. Unfortunately for him, the speed of Lorwyn's blast is just a little too much; he is unable to meet the blast in time, and he is left burned and battered. As a kind of irony, the blast leaps back to his blade, leaving deep acid welts in its metal. Then the blast chains to the other two grappled figures, burning them.

 Human 2.  Between his newly acquired burns, the choking strength of the eldritch tentacles, and the frostbite reaching his head, he falls unconscious. He will probably be dead in moments.

 Human 1, "Boss".  He drops back on the log pile, landing nimbly despite his wounds. He looks around, makes a hoarse  tsk  sound, then calls out,  "I have to hand it to you, you took out a squad of Zhentarim elites on your own."  His attitude remains, his wounds ignored.  "And here I thought this would be a boring town."  After a moment's consideration, he comes to a decision. He dashes from  U10  to  X10 , then drops to the ground at  Y11 . He quickly rummages through the dead dwarf's satchel, and in one fluid motion, pulls a vial from the satchel and swallows its contents.

Then, looking around, he huffs in irritation. He still cannot see Lorwyn.  "What in the Nine Hells are you?" 
 Human 3.  He again attempts to resist the tentacles but is utterly overpowered. He grunts with useless effort. The damage continues to stack and he is looking much worse for wear.

The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril ➝ Human 1 ➝ Human 3. It is Lorwyn's turn again.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Without missing a beat, the cloaked woman sits at a nearby table, pulls a flask from her pouch, and drinks from it. The scent of strong cider reaches Delja. The rain beating on the window intensifies as the weather takes a sharp turn for the worse. The cloaked woman speaks in a dull voice.  "Cass Devallon. Waterdhavian Armed Forces, Diplomatic Corps, currently embedded with the Lathanderites. Nice to meetcha."  She takes another sip from her flask. There are deep, dark circles under her eyes.  "We've been tracking a group of Zhentarim out of Baldur's Gate who're smuggling a large quantity of processed black lotus extract. They're staying in multiple inns, part of their independent merchants cover, so we're hitting all of these inns tonight. Yours and the others, so you were just in the right place at the right time.

"The prevailing narrative—the Flaming Fist one, at any rate—is that there is a buyer for the poison down in Athkatla. There are a lot of reasons to be suspicious of this story. I think there is something big, and it's happening in town tonight. You said it, they're not just smugglers. I've doubted that too since Baldur's Gate. If you have anything— know  anything—concrete I can send to my superiors, that would be ideal. The sooner we can get heavy hitters here, the sooner we can shut down whatever nonsense the Zhent have planned." 
Chambers
 Lorwyn
 
  "Aw..thanks, the appreciation of a deranged cultist is just what I was looking for when I got up this morning!"   Lorwyn says before moving foward and releasing more blasts of energy. She pauses for a moment at his question as she watches one of the humans slip into death.   "I'm someone you should believe when I say talk, or be killed. I'm true to my word. Tell me what I want to know and whoever is left can walk away."   She says and then floats away from the swordsman.

 
 Spoiler 
Lorwyn, Round 4.
Flyby Attack with a Chained Hammer Blast.

Move to S12.
Eldritch Blast (Chain, Hammer)
Move to Q12.

Grapple checks for  (1d6+4)[ 10 ]  grapple damage and  (2d6)[ 6 ]  cold damage.
Human 2  (1d20+25)[ 43 ] 
Human 3  (1d20+25)[ 26 ] 

Vitrolic Acid against Boss  (2d6)[ 5 ]  acid damage.
Vitrolic Acid against Boss Sword, Human 2, Human 3  (1d6)[ 3 ]  acid damage.

Attack vs Boss  (1d20+22)[ 27 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid  (10d6+1)[ 41 ] 
Sneak Attack  (8d6+20)[ 46 ] 

Attack vs Boss Sword  (1d20+22)[ 31 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 18 ] 

Attack vs Human 2  (1d20+22)[ 35 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 16 ] 

Attack vs Human 3  (1d20+22)[ 41 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 14 ] 
 
Metastachydium
The scent of cider is terribly tempting, and not in a pleasant way. Delja's not fast enough to keep her body and face from twitching, but it's gone fast.    Quick word of advice, to take or leave. Be careful with that stuff. This line of work, it can bleed one dry quick. I think I see the cracks.    she nods with a grimace.   Now, to the matter. First thing, thank you, that's…   a good reason to just collect Lorwyn as soon as possible, pack up and leave. She needs neither the Zhents, nor the "heavy hitters" in her life right now.   Something. Sheds some light, here and there. Wouldn't say it left me happier, truth be told, but it's something.   she says. Enough to earn an actual answer from herself, anyhow. Thinking back at encounter number 20 will at least keep her mind away from Cass's damn flask. She shouldn't have had the sherry earlier to begin with.   Sadly it'd mean you know a lot more than I do. There's about two things I can tell you, and I fear neither's very helpful on its own, except maybe  immediately .   She pauses.   One: Number 20. Human male. Tricksy. Uses a single longsword.   she grimaces again.   You know how a fresh city guard comes and tries to stab you once with that fresh city sword of theirs? This one stabs  five  times, same timespan, with some nasty rider, but I don't know if it's magic of his own. That's not a  light hitter ; means they can and will commit dogs close to the top.   she cracks her shoulder. She'll actually have to take a look at that wound later. It's a good thing she got those staves. All she has to do is  find Lorwyn , somehow.   Two's vaguer things. I sense some… Contradictions, if you want. If you'd been up in the room, you've seen the whole mess. If it's all just black lotus, they sure wanted it to look a lot of  other  things, and to be able to make that be  here . That's a lot of reagents up there, and they are arranged with purpose. More oddly yet, and I can't quite put my finger on this, they were real antsy not to be noticed  by the nobodies sleeping in the other rooms about . Me… I bothered them  less . They first signalled me, all underhanded, that they are trouble, but not for me, and we may as well let each other be. Then they offered money. Weapons only came after. But they didn't seem to care that I  know , you see? If they figured I'm no local, that'd help your theory, at least.  
namo
     Syana      (pseudodragon shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28  (not updated for her temporary shape) 
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana the pseudodragon takes time to search her memories for information about Nimh, and then pours it telepathically into Ux's mind, until she's shared everything or until Ux begs her to stop the flood of information.

 &lt;&lt; Alright, upon reflection, perhaps I know enough that we would have to dig  deep  into the Archives to find out much more. Especially since the reigning couple is likely to have suppressed or locked away any information even tangentially related to the Kundelich. &gt;&gt;  Even telepathically she avoids naming its true name, the better to get Ux used to it.  &lt;&lt; But let me know if you see a piece of the puzzle I'm missing. And, what do you think our next move should be? &gt;&gt; 
 
 
  
remetagross
  &lt;&lt; Hmmm, well, I agree that all interesting intel has been most likely removed from the library already. We've already learnt a lot here - maybe that's all we were meant to know in this place. How about we paid a visit to the Mercane Union Council? They hold both the Lighthouse and one of the Voidships.&gt;&gt;  
namo
     Syana      (pseudodragon shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28  (not updated for her temporary shape) 
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana pauses to consider Ux's suggestion.
 &lt;&lt; It's definitely an option. But to be honest, even if we were granted access, which is far from given, I'm not sure that I'm accomplished enough that studying them would give me insight into the Noctuary. &gt;&gt;  Syana looks a bit deflated for a moment, but being confronted with powers far above one's own will do that to one's self-esteem.  &lt;&lt; With that said, it would always be a nice experience, and it's not like we have a great lead right now. &gt;&gt;  Thankfully she doesn't stay down for too long; a self-mocking smirk is already playing on her pseudodragon face.

 &lt;&lt; There's also Candlekeep, but it makes no sense to head there without exploiting the Archives first. I know, perhaps we could spend a couple of days here looking up the ingredients mentioned? Crystallized love - where it has appeared in the past, what it looks like? It seems like this could be a worthwhile use of time. &gt;&gt;  
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Assuming Ux agrees, Syana will research the use of metaphysical components, in particular in Epic magic, starting if needed with the two that Iomei mentioned explicitly: crystallized time and crystallized love.
Questions:
What are they used for?
How can they be recognized?
Where can they be found, or where have they been found in the past?

Let's say she starts by spending up to 3 days on it (though she'll take into account Ux's input if he wants it to be shorter). If there are promising leads, she might extend that time.

She has the following options at her disposal to improve her skill checks:
- Improvisation for +11 luck - cast from her slots, so she uses it as often as needed
- Ancient Knowledge (Magic of Eberron) for +5 insight - from a cheap wand, so she can use it extensively as well
- Scholar's Touch (RoD) to read a whole book in one standard action - from a cheap wand, so she can use it extensively as well

Feel free to tell me how many charges she uses in her research. If they do help, she could exhaust her wands and go buy more at the Bazaar.
 
remetagross
Ux Utanar ponders.
  &lt;&lt;Crystallized love? Well, I have to admit that flew straight over my head when our hostess mentioned it - but of course, we're dealing with epic magic now, so this kind of stuff  has  to exist somewhere. That seems a good use of the library, at any rate. I'll also take one cup of snowflaked happiness, while we're at it.&gt;&gt;   A mischevious smile from the big scaly creature answers the sassy look of the small one.
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.  Ux and Syana begin their research; or more precisely, Syana researches while Ux watches, as the dragonborn has no training in arcana and cannot help. Committing several days to this, they must take care of sustenance and rest, and should sketch their general plans for doing so.


 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  The pounding rainfall resonates through the dark corridors of the mill. Combat continues.

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn unleashes another blast. She first targets the "boss", who attempts to dodge with prescient awareness, but he is simply not fast enough. He is taken by the brunt of the acid. The blast chains to his sword, which shatters from the force, splitting into many sizzling pieces. Then the blast strikes the downed dual-wielder, then lastly the grappled swordsman.

The dual-wielder has breathed his last, Lorwyn thinks. The grappled swordsman is still hanging on by a thread.

 Human 1, "Boss".  The man is deeply wounded, his ears half-melted, his nose corroded to the cartilage, his skin peeling, revealing raw, acid-stained muscle underneath. He still manages a ghoulish grin and says, in a hoarse voice,  "I have answered your question, you just don't know it yet. But alas, I cannot stay to humor you longer. The captains have given me dispensation to leave."  With a hand streaked with the white of exposed bone he reaches into the dead artificer's pack, pulls a scroll, and hoarsely invokes its command. The scroll vanishes in a flare of arcane energy, then... nothing.

The man's grin drops off.  "Uhm. That was anticlimactic. Ah well, the end comes for us all."  He staggers back to resume a fighting stance, though now swordless.

 Human 3.  With a resounding roar and an extraordinary show of ability, the swordsman finally forces his way out of the eldritch tentacles. He escapes to  T14 , and immediately runs to  X16 . He is visibly near death, torso deformed in ways telling of a multitude of broken bones, and the only noises he can make at this juncture are chokes and sputters.

The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril ➝ Human 1 ➝ Human 3. It is Lorwyn's turn again.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Cass frowns but nods appreciatively nonetheless.  "I... see. That's not enough to send home, I think the bosses won't be too pleased by what amounts to hearsay, but it does warn us to be far more cautious than we've been thus far. Those that fast with the blade are few and far in-between. We know the Zhents have one such woman based in Baldur's Gate, Eirana, but certainly this one is not she. As far as we know, this one was brought in from Cormyr by teleportation."  She is contemplative as she considers taking a sip of her cider, but stowing it after a second thought.  "Dragons to nibs Eirana's in town too."  She groans.  "Change of plans for me: I need to check in with the other raid teams." 

She stands swiftly, turns to Delja with a small, tired smile.  "We'll deal with the poisons in the morning. If you leave before then, let me do as the Lathanderites and wish you now the joy of dawn."  She strides out into the night, leaving in her wake only the cool breeze wafting in through the doors swinging close.
remetagross
Ux Utanar feels fairly useless wandering around while Syana does book stuff he is incapable of. But, while he needs neither food nor rest, the same thing does not apply to his comrade. After a few hours of research, he thinks about how to proceed.

  "Syana, how about you told my what your favourite food is? I'll see if I can find again the guide that brought us here, and have her explain me how we can stock on nourishment around here."  
Metastachydium
How she wishes. But leaving before dawn is, sadly, not quite what she'd estimate she has on the table currently(,  Lorwyn ). Still, leaving her assorted concerns – including this, and the possibility of  another  stab-happy lunatic like Number 20 in the town (that Cass  mercifully  didn't, at least, mistake her for) – she just rolls her left shoulder with a loud crack and wishes Cass   Good luck, less trouble,   turning to plod off herself. With all the church people and Zhents playing hide and seek, she doesn't expect to get any more work done this night (something would sure try and jump her the moment she gets the book out); but at least, she should get around to poke her stupid wound in  relative  peace and quiet until Lorwyn (hopefully) or someone else (less so) bothers to show.
namo
     Syana      (Djinn shape, then Solar-back-to-humanoid shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28  (not updated for her temporary shape) 
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 For her research, Syana has ended up adopting the form of a Djinn, which has many advantages: she blends in much better on the Plane of Air, she can use telepathy and she does not need sustenance nor sleep. As an added precaution, she changes her appearance every 8 hours or so.
" I can't believe I didn't think about it earlier! " she told Ux. " The solution was right in front of my eyes. Though I  will  need rest eventually, if only to recover my arcane energy - and also because, from past experience, the human mind isn't quite made for this; I end up slightly coo-coo after a little while without any sleep, magic or no magic.

It's different for you, of course, you're all wrapped up in your goddess' blessing. "

So in the middle of the second day, she proposes that they go out to the Bazaar to partake of a local meal - they could get a meal served in their room but then they'd miss out completely on the local sights. Then she intends to rest after that, to be ready for the third and hopefully last day of research.

She asks for recommendations from their guide (or whomever the bell summons) before leaving their quarters at Wind Home to head to Rain Home. Though if Ux would rather they stay in and get done earlier, she will acquiesce to that. 
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 Link to the post with the names of places 
 
remetagross
After a day and a half of research, Ux Utanar is happy to get moving a little bit.  "Bahamut is a male god, actually - though you'll have to take my word for it. Male and female scaly creatures are usually utterly identical - which a dragonborn friend of mine used to great effect to pull practical jokes, by the way...heh. Anyway, Rain Home seems as good a place as any. Let's roll!"  

When at their destination, Ux Utanar asks a merchant about any famous culinary specialties of the Citadel. Not that he can buy any, of course, but it's interesting nonetheless.
chaincomplex
 Citadel of Ice and Steel.  The duo of Ux and Syana make trips back to their suites in Wind Home. They have been afforded spacious villas, palatial in furnishing, opulent but not gaudy in decoration. They also quickly discern how to make use of the magic basins in their quarters. Upon approaching the basins of gold and azure ceramic, pictograms depicting its various functions flash on its crystal-clear surface. The gilded silver bell hanging above is not adorned with directions for use, but pulling its silk string to ring it is obvious enough, and summons well-dressed jann retainers to attend to their needs.

Zuleyha would not make another appearance except in passing, when the duo would see her showing around other guests in Wind Home—usually other genie in their myriad colorful humanoid forms, but sometimes wealthy-looking Prime mortals, or the rare angel or eladrin.

The first day of research goes quite well. Syana needs only cast  improvisation  and  ancient knowledge  the once, at the beginning, when she makes her Knowledge (Arcana) check.  Scholar's touch  is quite useful in its own way, though with Syana's experience in matters scholarly, she understands it is not the panacea that magical students think it is. For better or worse, the reality of research is success comes down to a precise few facts located in the depths of an obscure topic, more than the synthesis of a broad set of ideas from across a field. Not that the latter is useless in any sense, it does help her figure out what to look for and refines her search. How much benefit she gets out of  scholar's touch  really depends on how many uses she wishes to make of the spell. One or two casts per day should suffice to help the investigation process, but if she wishes to commit much more than that, there could be unexpected benefits. Or it could be wasted—after all, as a leading expert in arcana, most of what she is absorbing is trivial to her, even from a library as otherworldly as this.

The first day does not end uneventfully, however. The duo take a walking break around the Archives, to clear their minds and think—Syana mostly, Ux is just a helpful companion here. At most times of day the Archives are bereft of people: there are just the guards out front, some archivists within, and the occasional scholar. The crystal libraries and royal study rooms are mostly empty. As are the elegantly carpeted halls, which are extremely quiet despite their sprawling reach. The duo are stopped in one such hall by a stern, bespectacled elfin janni. Elfin, of course, being relative; this janni stands a full head taller than the average Prime human, and his bulging muscles are still visible beneath his flowing and ornate, gold-rune-laden black robes. The janni's eyes flit between the medallions Syana and Ux wear, the ones that granted them access to the Archives.

 "Excuse me,"  says the janni in perfect, unaccented Common and with a quick head tilt,  "I am Issar, one of the  Monsoon Immortal . You've met a few of us around the gateway to Waterdeep. We've completed a preliminary investigation into the gateway and we'd like to ask you a few questions, if you're up for it. May we step aside into one of these study rooms?" 

 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  Lorwyn has little trouble discerning that the man attempted to perform the spell completion steps to activating a scroll of  teleport . He had the skill to succeed, she thinks, he just flubbed some nuances in intonation.

The turn order is Lorwyn Suaril ➝ Human 1 ➝ Human 3. It remains Lorwyn's turn.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  As Delja proceeds up the stairs to the second floor, she spots the two Lathanderite warriors pushing the crates back into that damned Room 20. She also sees an older gnome man standing in front of Room 23. He is looking a little puzzled, but flashes Delja a neighborly smile.  "Sounded like quite the affair! Glad the good guys came out on top, of course." 

A nagging feeling pulls at Delja. This gnome is puzzled about something, but Delja realizes that she has no idea  what  that thing is. The Lathanderites? No, the gnome seems to have already dismissed them as background noise. The crates? He does not even glance at them. The nature of the fight that just happened? Possibly, yet this answer does not sit right with Delja. It is a very small and subtle emotive discrepancy in the scene that Delja senses, but cannot put her finger on.

The gnome shrugs.  "I must comfort my wife. She is afeared of all this violence, understandably. But please do let us know if you need anything. We are committed to helping this community, after all."  He turns back to his room.
Chambers
 Lorwyn 
  "This is your fault."   It's not his fault.   Lorwyn says to the weak figure attempting to flee.   "Why didn't you take the deal?! You'd have lived, you idiot!"   Lorwyn snarls at him as she fire an acidic blast at the failed magician, then bends it back to smash the table she's flying over and send the energy towards the choking swordsman.

Lorwyn's true anger is at herself. She watched her mentor die at the hands of the feylord while she accepted the pact. Now she is the mysterious enemy, offering 'peace' under conditions she sets herself.   No one forced you to come here and do this. You can't blame this on the Seneschal. This is your bloodwork, look at it!   The heavy rain failing outside gives her something else to listen to besides the argument in her head as she watches the men die.

 
 Spoiler 
Lorwyn, Round 5
Flyby Attack with a Chained Acidic Blast

Move to T13
Attack
Move to V13



Vitrolic Acid against Boss  (2d6)[ 2 ] 
Vitrolic Acid against Human 3  (1d6)[ 2 ] 


Attack vs Boss  (1d20+22)[ 25 ] 
Eldritch Blast Acid  (10d6+1)[ 37 ] 
Sneak Attack  (8d6+20)[ 34 ] 

Attack vs Small Wood Table beneath her at T13  (1d20+22)[ 29 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 22 ] 

Attack vs Human 3  (1d20+22)[ 25 ] 
Eldritch Blast  (5d6)[ 14 ] 
 
Metastachydium
Good guys. That's some fancy words. Well, Cass at least checks out fine, and the solar farmhands are more rowdy and noisome than seriously  bad  in a sense that would leave Delja worried, but Delja herself is part of this quite-the-affair here and she is not exactly sure she'd like to be assessed in such terms. The Zhents here were doing a job, after all, and halfway competently; balck lotus is not something she ever dabbled with, but some of those years back, she might've had just taken this one. And it wouldn't bother her half as much if it didn't bother her  personally , even now. She has business here. Are these things then just matters of timing? Ultimately, the locals cook well, but she doesn't need to eat.

Not that his choice of words is the big problem with this Gnome she has here. Her first instinct is to nod and move on. She's not sure how long he might've been awake, and she spoke to Number 20 and his lackeys. The Gnome might recognize the voice, connect the dots. It's better for her if everyone around just keeps sitting in the appropriate little compartment knowing no more than she needs them to know. Things are out of the bag, to one degree or another, for Cass and the solar farmhands; but they don't have to be for  this  one. Problem is, she was right before, about Number 20. Can she afford to be  wrong  about 23? Delja doesn't like surprises.   Everything's alright with  yourself ?   she quickly steps closer, grabbing the man lightly by the shoulder, careful to touch cloth, not skin.   You seem to handle it well enough. But it really smells like ugly stuff.   she goes on, putting on a mask of concern as she subtly peeks into the room past the Gnome.   All manners of bad eggs get into the best of inns these days, I swear. Are you two from here?   on second thought, a traveller stressing  this community  so hard feels…  Odd. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

A bunch of skill checks, of course: Bluff to pretend all we've here is a concerned fellow citizen who maybe kinda gets half of anything:  (1d20+21)[ 30 ] ;
Sleight of Hand, in case it's neccessary, to keep that hidden weapon (currently disguised as a stick again) hidden:  (1d20+12)[ 20 ] ;
Spot the contents of the room:  (1d20+27)[ 45 ]  and
Listen, because why not:  (1d20+25)[ 36 ] ;
as well as some Sense Motive on any answer or reaction received (I'll quietly assume the narration hinted at a failure/partial success with a previous first impressions check):  (1d20+16)[ 22 ] 
 
namo
     Syana      (Solar-back-to-humanoid shape)
  AC  53 / Touch 20 / Ff 45  |   HP  190/160  |   Saves  Fort +17 / Ref +20 / Will +28  (not updated for her temporary shape) 
 Senses  Arcane Sight 120ft, Blindsense 110ft, Darkvision 220ft, True Seeing 120ft, Detect and identify spellcasting within 60ft; Listen +15, Spot +8 
      
 Syana uses her wand of Scholar's Touch liberally, especially with the thicker tomes, to absorb their content in one wave of the implement accompanied by its incanted command word. If needed, she actually opens the books to come back to tricky or obscure chapters that seem to warrant further study.

When accosted by the janni, she shows some deference, which does not exclude verification: " Certainly. Do you have any credential asserting your position...? " If he presents something that seems valid given her limited knowledge, and there is no red flag indicated by her senses, then she'll follow him into the room. 
 
  
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
She's willing to exhaust the 50 charges of the wand over the 3 days (so 17/day), or even faster if it seems warranted. It costs only 750gp...
 
chaincomplex
 Archives of Glass and Wind.   "Certainly,"  says Issar dryly. On a ring he flashes the sigil of a stylized gust of wind. Syana readily recognizes it to be the imperial emblem of Djinni Caliphate, a variation of the holy symbol of the Zakharan god of freedom, Haku. This does not identify Issar as a member of the Monsoon Immortal strictly, but assuming it is real he would have to be a retainer of Great Caliph al-Balil. The Monsoon Immortal does have an organizational sigil that is not publicly known, so it makes sense that its members would default to the imperial emblem.

Issar leads Ux and Syana into a reading room. He chooses to lean against the back of a chair.  "We have determined that the portal was conjured up to a day prior to your passage. Its conjurer must be a practitioner of true dweomer. The purpose of the portal was to permanently tunnel into the Fugue Plane using the Cynosure's local properties, but the local powers of the Fugue Plane caused the magic to miscast. In the chaos of the Weave, the portal destination ended up in our domain. It was not a strategic threat, but we assessed it could cause some damage to the local planar veil, so we chose to disjoin the portal.

"The caster of the portal was mind blanked, but we are at least certain they never passed through the portal. Indeed, no one had until you two. We assessed that the two of you spoke to the caster prior to this passage. We could only divine your side of the conversation, but we assessed it wasn't of interest to us. There is only one question we wished to ask of you as follow-up: What can you tell us of the caster? What did they look like, and would you be able to sketch them?" 

 

 Beregost: Large Lumber Mill.  The battle continues. Powerful rains cause the ceiling to creak under the deluge.

 Lorwyn Suaril.  Lorwyn fires off the eldritch blast, the energy of which washes over the "boss". The man looks to be accepting of his fate as he is enveloped by acid. His figure slumps to the floor, still save for the flesh sizzling and warping under the acid. The eldritch blast leaps to the table beneath Lorwyn, warping its surface with severe, smoking welts, then leaps again to the man at  U16 . The acid splashes the man thoroughly, he makes a hoarse noise, but he is brought to his knees as acid streams across his skin, then finally he falls completely, unmoving.

Combat is over. Only the thundering rainfall and wavering candlelight keep Lorwyn company.


 

 Beregost: Feldepost's Inn.  Room twenty-three's door is ajar and Delja gets a decent look inside. It is lived-in, there is scattered luggage with enough clothes for a long stay, left lying about the place, hanging over seats, half-folded on tables, and some just lying on the floor. Old cups of tea sit lukewarm on various counters. From this angle, Delja cannot see into the bed area, but she can hear the sniffling of a woman further inside, as well as the increasingly heavy pattering of rain on glass. Astoundingly heavy, building up to a storm, odd considering only moments ago the skies were clear.

If the gnome finds Delja's behavior suspicious, he makes no sign of it. He strokes his mustache thoughtfully.  "You're sweet to ask. Aye, I'm alright, after I finished my studies at Candlekeep—oh, that was a time ago, and the memories are none too fond, I'll tell you, for it was the Year of the Scourge, streets were piled with the bodies of plague and bandit victims. Er, where was I? Oh yes. So, after Candlekeep I worked as a battlefield surgeon all across the Sword Coast, and at times beyond. Violence is not new to me, I'm sorry to say, I am used to this particular mortal hubris. My wife lived sheltered in Cormyr, however, as a handmaid to House Illance when I first met her, but once we eloped we chose to settle down to a private practice in Waterdeep. She is right to fear, to be clear, for violence is an awful thing; it is simply my fault that I am so jaded.

"Ah, but I prattle on. No, we do not live in Beregost, but after half-a-century here we see the Sword Coast wholly as our home. Ten years ago we moved our practice to Baldur's Gate, but staying in a city and serving privileged urbanites can be quite boring, whether that be the North or the Gate, so we often travel about, staying in smaller communities such as Beregost. Do you know this town's history? It was hit hard recently by the Iron Crisis. Bandits used to siege the town for weeks before the town was relieved by Flaming Fist warbands. That's why you'll see palisades built in layers, it's what military commanders would call defense-in-depth. I tell you, twelve years ago I traveled out to Thesk where Azoun IV led the Royal Cormyrian Army against the Tuigan Horde, and  oh-hoh  there did I see a  brilliant  application of defense-in-d—" 

He stops his story abruptly and laughs.  "You should've told me I was rambling, I was about to regale you with the entire story of the Siege of Phsant and its Shou hordes. Ah, but what did you ask me again? Have I answered your questions?" 
Metastachydium
Is this  luck ? Is this what luck looks like? Perhaps. It sure is an opening to keep an eye on. The metaphorical little wheels in the Nixie's head begin to rapidly turn. There's two avenues of approach here, and both appear ultimately safe. A strange happenstance. Still, one is more a job for Lorwyn, maybe, if she ever comes back… If Delja can  trust  her with such, too.    Candle-keep ?   she chooses the perk up ever so slightly, as though just snapped out of being most thoroughly immersed in the wondrous snippets of tales jumbled upon each other by the Gnome by some familiar term.   That's just north, no… North-west of here, right? Innkeeper tells me it has a nice beach. Closest place to hit the sea on a good road.   she puts on a dreamy face for just long enough to let the Gnome sneak a word or several in (he strikes Delja as the type who wouldn't miss such an opportunity); before she'd say her farewells for the night, she might as well find out. What's of more use to her here: the man himself – or his  luggage .

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Bluff of the Awed and Harmless Tourist Only in it for the Beach Experience:  (1d20+21)[ 23 ] ; and a
Sense Motive:  (1d20+16)[ 24 ] , just in case
 
Chambers
 Lorwyn 

The black tendrils flail in search of something to grasp and hurt. Lorwyn watches them writhe, something to look at besides the evidence of what she's done. She loses her focus, listening to the rain and definitely not thinking about memories from her past. Eventually the conjuration ends with an abruptness that snaps her out of her reverie. She shakes her head and looks around as if for the first time.   "What monster did this."   She banishes what remains of her invisibility with a wave of her hands and flies down to dig through the dead men's pockets.

Lorwyn clears the space of the least damaged table and starts going through the process that her mentor taught her.   'Take everything out and see it for itself.'   She thinks in Silvys voice. She empties the packs, pouches, and pockets of the dead and places all the contents of each on the table. Her shaky hands and jitters start to calm as she falls back into the sure movements of a familiar process.   'An old thief is a careful thief, remember that.'   Each weapon that survived is removed from it's sheath, all the coins in coin purses are individually counted and pushed across the flat table.   'One for you, two for me, one for the guild. Never cheat the guild. Actually, to the dark with the guild! Never cheat me!'   She laughed as she remembered him and the loudness of her laughter in the still place of death shook her out of her thoughts again.

  "What secrets were worth your life?"   She asks the warrior who struck her as she searches through what's left of their lives.

 
 Spoiler 
Lorwyn is taking 20 on her Search for a result of 73 (with Trapfinding). She has Detect Magic to sort out the mundane and magical, but she's mostly interested in intelligence gathering. Do these people have any written notes? Clues about where they have been or where they might be going? She'll also take any money they have because Delja doesn't pay for anything.

She has Gloves of Object Reading which she'll use on each of them. I don't expect you to fill out the details for each item for each person; does anything interesting stand out from the divination?
 