Infernal Interruption

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It was a room full of wizard. Well... Wizards and sorcerers and mages of every variation. The room is also filled with books. Books line the walls. Books in carts. You stand in the Arcanists guild at their request. Their request was exceedingly vague, and you're not the only ones that have shown up. There's a few other guild members, and this host of mages rubbing shoulders with one another.

This is one of their lesser-used libraries, tucked away and rarely ever used much less used for the purpose of a gathering. Finally, the senior-most mage clears his throat and gathers the attention of everyone. "The king of Verbalt died last night. It's a small island-nation, which is rich in resources enough to warrant a small kingdom, but this is not our concern. The concern is that this nation is now in turmoil and in-fighting over who their next leader will be. You see..."

Here he hesitates and looks at his notes. "It seems that Charn kidnapped their heir-apparent some years ago and is trying to say that they have the heir in their possession and thus the kingdom should revert to them. This is a bit troubling, but you might wonder still why we've gathered you today." The mage looks around the room. "It seems that we might actually be able to solve this turmoil if we can locate Asmark's Prophesies. Even notes on the Prophesies would be useful to us. Which is why you're here. Each and every book has to be gone through."

There's a general groan from everyone. "That includes the Restricted Area. Assuming you can pass the test to get into the room. If you can pass the test it's requested that you start there." Another low murmur of irritation, but this time more interested. "And if someone starts behaving oddly after going through a restricted room, or for any other reason, please pull the emergency anti-magic bell in the room with you."

He motions to the cord nearby him and seems to look tired. "This will cast an anti-magic zone and tell everyone that there's an issue. Don't hesitate to use these as we'd rather error on the safe side. Work in groups and don't wander off."

An unusual request, to be sure, and Seldan's eyes narrow a little. It's a touch unusual to ask one such as him for research - usually that is more Mal's speed - but as the explanation rolls on, he settles, listening closely. A search for prophecy, and some things amid the library that might be risky in nature. He nods his understanding, and goes for his weapon belt, to remove it and set it aside near the entrance to the library.

"As you will," he agrees, "it is in my mind that such a test will not require the use of a weapon, and thus shall I ask that others watch over Reunion."

Restricted libraries within the Arcanist library. This seems rather aligned with Verna's interests. Still, there are concerns as of late. She arrives with the (courteous) escort of at least one Silverguard. It is possible that she experienced one or more rough evenings as of late; doffing her hood reveals heavy dark circles below her eyes... and around them. The indicated cord is keenly regarded and noted. "Intriguing."


Well, if you're looking for someone with solid decision-making skills and an iron will... you're probably not looking for Jinks. Still, he's pleasing enough to look at-- if you're into that sort of thing-- and knows a thing or two about a thing or two. And Lesta would probably love to hear a story about restricted books on restricted shelves of the restricted room in the generally-neglected corner of the library.

"The Stygian Empire really knows how to make the dead work for them," observes the gnome aloud. "... and the Verbalti monarch isn't even lumbering around setting cobbles down for their roads. I wonder if anyone has ever tried this with hostages before," he chicks at his painted lip in thought. "Why keep the peace with one when you can ransom a nation?"

The silverguard that came with Verna salutes Seldan and nods. "I would be honored to watch your weapon." He replies simply, standing near the door and willing - obviously - to do what Seldan has asked. Obviously he's not here to help look through books. Meanwhile the various mages are heading to and fro. Some heading for the restricted section from which a few curses can be heard given by those who fail the 'test' to enter the room. Seems there's a lot of people eager to enter it, but not so many who can.

Seldan inclines his head politely at the other Silver Guard, a small smile playing around his lips. He takes a deep breath, and reaches for the crescent and sphere symbol around his neck. He murmurs a prayer, quiet and heartfelt, his skin glowing silver-blue for a brief moment, then fading.

When that is done, he turns towards the others. "Where is this test to be?"

GAME: Seldan casts Protection From Evil. Caster Level: 8 DC: 19

"Silverguard Seldan," Verna greets him with a nod, followed with a similar gesture to Jinks. "Those that have twisted Charn should not gain any further land nor power, if solely for the well-being of all. Shall we?" She gestures ahead to the section from which the curses emanate and begins to step towards.

After a few strides, she pauses to look to Seldan. "Should you encounter issues that require containment, I shall do my utmost, Seldan, though I cannot guarantee success."

Jinks grins a greeting back at Verna and wiggles the many rings on his fingers at her. The one she'd crafted is in there skulking amongst the army, no doubt. The gnome follows in the mourner's wake, taking a good scan of the room to make sure there aren't any ever-masked and - armored paladinas present before slipping out a flask for a quick nip. The cap scratches quietly as he twists it back into place before tucking the whole thing under his fine coat.

"Oh, I do agree. The paperwork of their guildhalls alone is enough for me to hope those borders are content with staying as they are." He sucks at the spirits-taste lingering on his spittle and savors it, abysmally dry at his tutor's request. "With the caveat that I'd be quite happy to see them contract as much as they'd like."

The black-eye gnome begins to hum quietly, bobbing his head to the rhythmic curses of the disgruntled. The delicate platinum chains draped between nose and ear piercings sways and glitters along.

One of the mages is happy to direct you all to the short line leading to the restricted book's area. The test looks simple enough. Some kind of purple forcefield has been erected between the outside and the inside of the room. The mages simply walk up and bounce off. Walking away disgruntledly or trying a few times before giving up. You will find that none of you have such difficulty walking into the room, and you are not the first. There are four other mages quietly at work reading restricted books.

"Mourner, Her light upon your path." Seldan seems to have been distracted, but turns towards Verna now, inclining is head politely and somehow including Jinks on it. "I understand, Mourner, and I shall do likewise for all. The spell is a shield against evil." His eyes lower, but he does not give voice to the thought behind them. "It is for that reason that I have laid Reunion aside. Fear me not."

Verna need not read Seldan's thoughts to infer much of them, and simply nods. She states nothing further until they cross the violet threshold and she approaches the next nearest unoccupied section. "If all must be perused with no starting point known, we would be most thorough and efficient to work systematically," she suggests. A gloved hand then reaches up to begin with the first tome on the topmost shelf her chosen section.

A finger probes the illuminated forcefield carefully before the gnome passes bodily through. Jinks has no desire to walk face-first into blockage, regardless of how fond he is of the color purple. He gives a sniff from the other side and turns 'round to squint up and down at the thing, sucking at his teeth curiously. No doubt he wonders by what measure the wizards have fallen short. 

Glittering hands rub together as Jinks selects a rack to one side of Verna, pursing his lips and running his finger along spines until whimsy takes him. He hooks the top of the binding and drags it free to inspect the cover and flips through a few pages...

Seldan, too, moved cautiously at first, but after a moment, the forcefield did not oppose him, and he steps through, glancing briefly back at much as Jinks does. Once inside, he listens carefully to Verna, and nods. "Even so. I shall begin at the next shelf." So stating, he moves one shelf down, and imitates the Mourner, although reaching the topmost shelf is doubtless a touch easier. In fact, he selects a small group of five or six books, rather than just the one, and brings them down to a table to read.

The first one he selects, he skims quickly enough, and a shudder ripples through him. He sets it quickly aside, upside down on the table.

GAME: Seldan rolls will: (14)+32: 46

"In hindsight," Verna admits, "perhaps I should have left the upper shelves to you..." Whether this is due to her vertically-challenged stature or the fact that the tome she opens begins to ... bleed, is left unsaid. She skims it briskly before closing it, setting it down, and collecting others. These she takes to a table for easier viewing and collection of those read. Another more logical option noted in hindsight. Perhaps she remains somewhat concussed.

"I am sensing a theme today," Jinsk grunts, easing the book closed and replacing it on the shelf. He turns and tilts his head to blink up at Verna, "Though if the Harpist's agents ever want to know the advantages of animating a corpse on the 323rd day versus the 32-4-th day, oh my, absolute page-turner. I wouldn't even think of spoiling what new developments arise on day 325."

Jinks makes no notice of Seldan's reaction to the first book, too busy being bored almost to the point of being a prospective subject of his ill-fated choice. This time he closes his eyes, dragging his finger along spines. "Coyote laughs," he mumbles before selecting the next book and pulling it lose. Only then does he open his eyes to inspect the title.

A few more books, quickly skimmed for content. Seldan sets them aside one by one, these face-down in reverse orientation to the first book. Why, he does not explain, but it is quite clearly deliberate. "I am certain that that information is of use to someone," he tells Jinks mildly, setting the latest one atop the stack and picking up the next to bottom one in the pile.

This one he opens, skims a little, then slows down, finger trailing down the page and lips moving silently. Suddenly, he stops, and draws a deep, slow breath. "Mourner." The word is sudden, almost a warning. "The kingdom of Verbalt was once known as Recif. I may know more of Recif, but not here, and not now."

"Intriguing," Verna notes concerning Jinks' discovery, "but I would not wish to know more of such blasphemous re-vivification." She continues her own skimming until Seldan's call. Head and eyes snap to him. "Understood. I-" she pauses and her lips purse at the familiarity of the name. "Yes, perhaps not now."

She waits to confirm Seldan's pause on that thread of thought before she resumes skimming of her tome. Another pause and her attention snaps away from the material to the others. "I believe that I have located one of the prophecies."

Jinks slides the books to create space next to the previous tome, placing the newest next to it and, thusly, start the collection of sleep aides. He plucks the next book from the shelf but turns to quirk a whisper-thin eyebrow at Verna before folding the cover open.

Seldan gently, carefully lays the book aside, in the same orientation as most of the other books, and is about to open the last one, nodding his agreement with Verna, when she speaks again. "Even so? Read it, for all of us." He glances at the other mages in the room.

Verna begins to recite directly from the page, rather than read ahead and share. It may be an overabundance of caution, but such is rather justified in her opinion.

"He laid his hands upon the bloody sword, Pull that sword from your soul kid, Pull that sword from your soul. It will save your life. Sharpen the sword, On your bloody hand, Even the gods know. You got to pull that sword from your soul. Pull that sword from your soul."

After she completes the stanza, there is a brief pause before she adds, "There are notations in the margins: near the first mention of 'soul' are the words 'dark' and 'well.'"

“The dame del Haranna seeks an innocent swordmaster... as you know," Jinks offers Seldan a shallow nod. "She says the quest was given to her at the bottom of a well. She is quite fond of talking about it while she helps me with Neighsayers."

"Something about a sword she wasn't... 'worthy' for." The gnome sniffs and glances down at the spine of the book he's holding briefly, then turns to consider the cover. "But it seems awfully thin on thematic connections. It's just right here--" he lifts two fingers to tap under the onyx set into his circlet-- "because she talks about it often."

Seldan inhales slowly, again, and lets it out even more slowly, nodding soberly. "Yes. Do not ask me here or now, Mourner," he warns Verna, turning back to his book and skimming through it carefully. He lays it carefully aside, on top of the others, and stands.

He has stacked the books in such a way that when he picks up the stack and returns it to the shelf, it is in the same order as it was when it was removed, save only for the first book, which is reversed such that the spine faces the back of the shelf. He them picks up the next group between his hands, and carries them back over to the table. "Master Jinks," he explains carefully, "to ask on these topics may occasion a repeat of our previous meeting, a thing I dare not permit here."

GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (5)+25: 30
GAME: Verna rolls perception: (3)+27: 30
GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (7)+7: 14

"We dare not recollect nor delve too deeply, but there are yet clues to be gained..." Verna concurs, despite the concept of avoidance of knowledge being rather counter to her normal preferences, if not a core facet of her being. Another page is recited.

"In Taara's maw sits I. The soul of twins now divided. The hand of dark it seeks to take. To tear what was whole asunder. In Taara's maw sits I. Reborn from Gray Halls. King of Prophecy. Hand that Wields the Sword. She seeks to taint the innocent. She seeks to become innocent. Divided now the twins of souls. In Taara's maw waits I."

The combination of references to both The Gray Harpist and Taara sparks a resonation of personal memories. Given the current danger of memories, perhaps even in general, The Mourner pulls her focus from the pages to Jinks. She stares at him for a long moment, as if observing the gnome might be a tactic to empty one's mind. Her eyes then shift to just above him as something catches them "The shelf you cleared. I believe the back is false. It is too shallow."

"Tht," Jinks sucks at his teeth again and then turns to look at the wall. The gnome knocks at the backing to-and-fro listening to a hollow report. Then, reaching up and under the back of his coat he produces a flat-handled stiletto and looks for a seam to pry open. "There's a fun bit of apocrypha that says the Sly One was birthed from Coyote," he muses idly as he fiddles, "but even if Tarien is Deimos' 'pa' I don't know who Mulria's mother is." He snorts.

GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+15: 16 (EPIC FAIL)

Seldan had spotted it also, but Verna is quicker, and he sets the pile of books down, watching Jinks fiddle with the compartment and re-seating himself. "The stories say naught of her parentage, and yet may it well be that she spawned from the head of ...." He pauses, blinks, and smiles ruefully. "Forgive me."

There's a yawp of surprise from the gnome and then his hand dives into the cubby after the sound of an ignition and his own cursing "Mulria's--"

"Water! The damned thing's alight," in go the glittering fingers as he tries to grab at the books on either side.

"From the head of a pustulous boil on the a-" Verna starts to share one theory that might fit Seldan's initial words, but it is cut short by Jinks' yelp and call. "Alight?" She blinks. Fire in a library is a horrific thought. She makes a reflexive gesture towards Jinks... or, rather the compartment. A quite simple incantation that does not require the items from which she had intentionally relieved herself previously.

All to answer his call, bringing what is an only marginally less blaspheme to written repositories of knowledge.

The requested water.

GAME: Verna casts Create Water. Caster Level: 17 DC: 17 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17

The four wizards leap to their feet at the word 'water' and they look at one another. "We can't use water!" The first one says, quickly dispelling Verna's magic. "The other books will be harmed!"

"We should use an invulnerable sphere!" Says the second - and the fight between the mages is on. Each one of them with their own idea as to how to put the fire that Jinks is dealing with out and scoffing at the other's idea.

Seldan had been about to reach for parchment and ink, intent on setting the prophecy to paper for inclusion in Her temple's records, when the fracas breaks out. At once, he bolts to his feet, grabbing the heavy woolen traveler's cloak from the chair where he'd left it - the silken one beneath it he had kept on his shoulders - and forcing the damp cloth into the cubby, stuffing it as full as possible to snuff out the flames.

Magic is not always required, after all.

"That'll keep the fire at bay for now but we need something to cancel the effect or it'll come aflame as soon as you remove the cloak..." Jinks suggests, chewing at his painted lips once again.

GAME: Jinks rolls Spellcraft: (3)+8: 11

Verna blinks. The other magi are not wrong. While items could theoretically be dried rather than un-incinerated, it is still a surprising thought and poor choice. Or was thought involved? It is not until Jinks' comment that its nature is revealed (another possibility she did not even consider first). A magical effect she can potentially counter, and without causing physical harm to the materials.

"Of course..." she voices with both revelation and self-directed annoyance. She then makes a less reflexive and more controlled utterance and more involved gesture, repeating the same spell cast by the other magus a moment past, though directed at the near-smoldering compartment.

At this moment a mul'niessa mage woman enters the room, blinking at the conflux of issues she murmurs to Verna. "One of the mages sent a message that you had found a book containing prophecies? I have come to collect it on behalf of the magus in charge of this search..."

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+17: (6)+17: 23
GAME: Verna casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 17 DC: 20
GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (11)+19: 30
GAME: Jinks rolls Perform/Sing: (15)+22: 37
GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (11)+7: 18
GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (6)+15: 21
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (4)+25: 29

"I think the Silver Guard has it well in hand." Jinks does his best to sound confident after almost burning a wing of the library down. His eyes narrow subtly and his head tilts. "Have we met before? Maybe in the dormitories? Or the dining halls? I'm a friend of Lesta-- Deddendaplethaleste-- graduated Illusionist and continuing scholar. Blue-hair. Person." He taps at his sternum, clearly meaning Gnome.

The spell completes, and Seldan, cautiously at first and then with more confidence withdraws a slightly singed cloak from the cubby. "A moment, if you will," he calls to the woman approaching Verna. "My service to the Dreamer demands that I keep records of prophecies set down, and I would set them down for my temple, ere it be lost in the search. I shall be swift."

The cloak is carelessly tossed in its chair, and he resumes his seat, reaching again for parchment and ink, and then for the book, beginning to set the words of the prophecy down on his own sheet.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (19)+24: 43

Verna slumps somewhat afterwards, promptly lowering herself into a seat at the table. It is not from the effort of the spell, per se, but rather the series of events leading to it. "Take your time, Silverguard." She is in no rush, even if the comment was not directed at herself.

Speaking of, she turns her attention to the mul'niessa as Seldan scribes (and perhaps it is best left to him at this moment). "The magus shall receive the materials soon enough." Her focus then pans to Jinks "Was anything further discovered there?"

The woman smiles at Jinks thinly and imperiously. "I do not know any blue-haired gnomes." She turns her eyes toward Seldan briefly and then snaps her fist out at Verna like it's nothing - without even looking. Grabbing the book from her hand where it rests on the table and then running down the hallway as fast as she can run. Which as it turns out - is VERY fast.

"Mulria's sideways fucking smile," Jinks was a pinch too subtle-- which probably hasn't ever happened before. The gnome snatches a hand through the Weave and finds the silver thread tying Verna, Seldan, and him together. He sings out the accelerando and taps a matching rhythm in the air. "This'll help."

GAME: Jinks casts Haste. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20
GAME: Seldan casts Wall of Force. Caster Level: 16 DC: 23
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+22: (18)+22: 40
GAME: Verna rolls ranged: (17)+11: 28
GAME: Verna casts Enervation. Caster Level: 18 DC: 22
GAME: Jinks casts Gallant Inspiration. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
GAME: Jinks rolls 2d: (9)+2d: 9
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4: (3): 3

The mul'niessa is quick, but Seldan's magic-fueled feet are quick, too, and his spells are faster still. A black and angry scowl twists his features, and he bolts to his feet, vaults the table, and from the hallway, draws several complex sigils in the air with angry and focused gestures. The sigils burst to life, not before him, but blocking the hallway in front of the fleeing woman.

"You ought to have known better than to show your face in this city, friend of demons," he snarls. "I have not forgotten that it was your doing that Eclavdran walked the halls of the Dreamer's holy temple, and that you have sold yourself to him."

The woman ducks into another room, Seldan hot on her heels as she slips behind one of the researchers and puts him between the paladin and herself. "So NOW you're ready to get off your silver ass and act?! Is -this- one worth saving, after you left the others to rot?" She sneers at Seldan, her face twisting so that it look even more like the Aya he once knew... and yet it's different still. Not quite her face.

Verna is not fleet of foot, even if she had not just sat down. She is also a moment slow in realizing the book is snatched. Having unavailed herself of her components for safety reasons, her active repertoire is limited. As well, mass destruction is still certainly not an option. Thus she snaps off a quick bolt of negative energy, pooled from her own knowledge rather than her Mistress' Hall (though there is ample supply there, as well).

She is left blinking again at Seldan's words, and then those of the woman. Oh. My. Now she stands back up in attempt to follow after.

GAME: Seldan casts Liberating Command. Caster Level: 16 DC: 19
GAME: Jinks casts Break Enchantment. Caster Level: 10 DC: 21
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20: (9): 9

The mul'niessa's words are like a strike across the face, and Seldan's expression is very akin to a turned head. Still, he does not relent, instead chanting another, simpler spell whose golden-blue-silver sigils wrap around the hostage researcher for a brief moment. "Let him go!" he shouts, then takes two strides forward. "Oh, you did indeed act, Aya. You sold yourself - nay, _gave_ yourself to Eclavdran. Willingly. You now serve him, keep company with his minions. The book's prophecy relates to his dealings!" he adds to the researchers. "I shall keep to you the word that I gave you, when last you knew yourself."

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+24: (1)+24: 25 (EPIC FAIL)

His pace accelerated by magics, the gnome scrabbles out of the protected room and into the hall. Jinks catches sight of Seldan's trailing cloaks and follows-- catching himself on the doorframe to keep from overrunning it. His black-on-black eyes bulge at the confrontation unfolding and he waits...

When the researcher slips the mul'niessa's grasp he sings, reaching forward and curling his fingers as he pulls back. The outline of this Aya facsimile comes into sharper focus and stutters but no auras or shadows pull away for his efforts. He's crestfallen.

"Just subdue her! We can fix this, tallman!" So pleads the bard.

The woman unhinges her jaw and _eats_ the book. The pages grotesquely shift her mouth and throat and then disappear into her maw. It's disgusting. At the same moment she grabs a second time at the researcher but his friend grabs his arm and pulls him away to safety.

Seldan's cry is having some effect however, and several of the researchers are giving Aya nasty and considering looks. If she weren't against a wall of books at the moment... Well she'd probably be suffering from a multitude of spells.

"Their deaths are on your head Seldan." She warns. As if she intends to kill all the researchers _first_.

Verna's legs may be longer than Jinks', but not by so much. The accelerando aids her, but she is the last to catch the others and round the corner. Assuming Seldan's accusations are true, she only just learned further details of the situation a day or so past. Which shortly thereafter to led to-no. No. She cannot analyze and deconstruct this. The only rational, logical course she can discern is that she should not attempt to properly discern a logical course of action.

-TBC