Library: Let's Negotiate Terms

“The Friggin elves are pushing in. By the time this is order well all be speakin’ that slanty tongue. It's like listening to a crow lick a donkey’s ass and then bragging about it.” 

The voice was in the softest tones – barely louder than a lover’s sweet cadence, though as sharp as an angry rebuke from the heaven’s themselves.

Branches whipped unimpeded against Whisper St Claire’s weather worn face as he crashed through the thick woods. His diatribe seemed to fueled his strength. For three days straight he had ranted and pushed through the thick underbrush, the staccato steps propelling him against nature itself.

Whisper never acknowledged the badly burned man who he dragged behind him in the make shift sled.

You should have let me die. Whisper couldn't read the man’s mind nor could he decipher the moans.

“No. No. No.” Those were the only words the man had screamed when Whisper applied salves to the terrible wounds.

Whisper continued to crash through the underbrush. A single man dragging another single man - nothing for warring factions to note.

“You can hide the outside,” Whisper ranted, “you look into an elves’s eyes an they’re evil.” Whisper continued to will himself forward and Radegast continued to will himself to death.

“Fuckin elves. Always the damn elves.”

Radegast watches the battle end. Where ever his mind is. Who really knows where a warrior’s mind goes?

"A coward. I knew it. Well it figures that bastard would disappear as quickly as he appeared." Elby sniffs the air and notices a scent of smoke. "Fuck not another fire Stones." He turns to where Stones is face down on the ground. Elby hops off the base of the statue, a slight grimace from the wounds sustained in battle crosses his face. 

He rushes over to where Stones lies. "Radegast, we need to deal with that fire and heal Stones. I can do either, provided you get rid of that barrier. Which do you want to deal with?" Elby rushes to Stones and is ready to either heal him or douse the fire with his cloak. “Move quickly my friend, I don't want a repeat of the Happy Swallow.”

Elby rolls Stones over until the warrior is flat on his back in an unintended funeral pyre as books burn around him. Noienna has vanished and Stones has a dream-like expression on his face. Perhaps at peace for the first time in his life.

Radegast wordlessly lowers the barrier.

Elby uses his cloak to put out the fire that is Stones. Years of dealing with camp fires provides the Halfling with the skills to avoid burning himself. Taking herbs, ointments, and a few spice rubs he manages to bring Stones back to consciousness.

Stones eyes open slowly. “I am grateful to you as well Elby, for bringing me back from the brink.  Please allow me to return the favor.”  Stones attempts to heal the others as best he can.

Radegast continues to eye the damage in the room. He seems unsure.

The group rests. Using surges to get back to maximum strength.

 “Noienna…” Stones mutters aloud, “if I die with you inside of me, I’m sure one of our friends here will cut you free.  There is need to fear such a fate, unless we all perish.  But it seems you are not willing to let that happen, for which we are all grateful.” 

Noienna slowly ascends from Stones’ neck. Once again the odd two-headed beauty and the beast. “It’s about time I got a little gratitude.” It is in her haughty over-sensitive manner that you have all become used to.

 “Now, about this place….” Turning around the room, Stones soaks in the fact that upon these shelves sit lifetimes and lifetimes of knowledge.  “There must be thousands of souls trapped in here!”  His anger rising at this awareness he becomes the Stones you have grown to know, quick to anger, and dangerously impulsive.  Then something slows him almost immediately and his face becomes a twisted mask of indecision with a tinge of fear.  “How will we find Suresh among all these volumes?  And how to protect them while we search.  That book…” He looks to where the ashes of the burned book were scattered.

“That soul…Noeinna, is it gone forever?  Is it…?  My actions…”  Stones balls his fist.  “This is an EVIL place!  We must free these souls, but how?!”  He gazes up, not realizing he has walked over to the statue of Noeinna, and realizes how beautiful she appears, “And you Noeinna...how do we free you?”

He walks back to the crumbled ruins and examines the books on the shelf, careful not to touch anything, and tries to interpret and mystical symbols or magical patterns.  He draws upon everything he learned from Suresh, hoping to gain some understanding, some insight.  With Suresh at the forefront of his thoughts, he makes a methodical tour of the room, looking for anything that may give him an indication of the book that holds Suresh’s soul…

Radegast calmly announces. “I am going to burn this entire place to the ground.”

Noienna finally speaks.  “All you need to do is – oh no!”

Her voice rises in alarm, causing the hairs on your necks to stand on end. She disappears into Stones’ body.

Archers appear in the room on the balconies. Adorned in bright red outfits including masks they are identical save for their locations. Bow strings have been drawn into position. Even with the bookshelves they have positioned themselves where the group is in the middle of a kill box.

Stones draws his sword and tries to put his back to the statue.

The friggin elves. Caudata grinned in a half crazed expression. May be all elves descend into madness. Elby had never met an elf before. He had heard stories of course. Though no stories included a wild eyed elf who drank dwarf spirits.

Caudata stared over the pungent waters of the swamp. Elby had expected a sweet elven voice when he first met the elven ranger, not the thick noise of what sounded like a wheel less cart being dragged across gravel. “This is a good place to die - these waters change a man. Old magic. Demon magic. God magic.”

Caudata was naked now, only a long bow in his hand. Nearly seven feet tall and completely hairless he gave the impression of being an oversized reed in the swamp.

“Everyone calls it something different. Only an elf can walk into the madness and come out sane.” He looked over the waters.

It’s a swamp. Elby kept the thought to himself. It’s like arguing with my father. Pointless. Instead the Halfling tried to see what Caudata saw. He saw nothing.

Caudata handed his bow to Elby. “Yours. I don't need it where I'm going. I'll walk with demons.”

With those last words Caudata disappeared into the swamp.

There are times in a person’s life – man, woman, child, or anyone else – when he questions his or her sanity. These are one of those times.  

Elby examined the bow he held the bow in his hand. A good bow.

Elby slips off the base of the statue where he was sitting to the ground (J11) and quickly notches an arrow.

Five others walk into the entrance, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and all are in the room. Even a simpleton can recognize confident warriors – especially armored warriors with swords already drawn. In the front is a woman – that is about the only characteristic which sets the group apart from one another.

Cold eyes dart about, though to the warrior on the far right his eyes linger on Elby for a moment.

The leader is a woman - she is still stunning, though her beauty is fading, having been marked by crow’s feet around her eyes and a face that holds the placidness of a frozen lake. She is adorned in chain mail and a holding a quarterstaff. Her eyes widen in surprise as she says, "Radegast?"

The woman that calls out Radegast gets Stones attention as well as she seems to know Radegast.  Stones turns to the warrior, "Radegast, are we gutting some more flunkies here, or what?  Because I can just as easily burn the whole place down..."

Elby glances over to Radegast, "Um Radegast, friend of yours?" He then turns back toward the woman and her group.

Radegast’s cool mask has slipped and a tidal wave of emotions seems to wash over him. This is a conflicted man. Disbelief. Horror. Shock. Joy. Anything is possible.

Stones seems to have forgotten about the statue, but is mumbling to himself and you know he is talking to Noienna, "what the hell is going on now?" 

Fuckin elves. Always the damn elves.

Stones shifted his weight to his right leg, careful to avoid too much pressure. The last three blows from Brin d'amour had not drawn blood – though each blow resulted in blood congealing just below the surface. The blood would then lead to knots, then to terrible cramping, then to Stones defeat.

Stones did the calculation in his heads. If Brin landed no more blows the muscles in the calf would spasm first, then the quad; within one minute the right leg would be useless. Stones lifted his own quarter staff - he hated this weapon as much as he hated sparring against the elf. I’ll land a blow if it kills me.

The reward for an attempt at offense was that Stones noted the short shuffle of Brin’s leather boot as the elf shifted his weight forward. It was nearly indecipherable – the result of an elf’s natural physical gift combined with military training. Most people wouldn’t have even registered the movement.

Not that it helped Stones. The quarterstaff whistled through the air once again, landed in the exact same spot as the previous blow.

It gave Stones only thirty seconds. The two continued to circle one another. The feet tell everything. 

Fifteen seconds. The pain was excruciating.

Stones drew his quarter staff up once again, providing the same whole in his defenses as before. He watched Brin’s foot shuffle forward slightly. Instead of attempting to defend the blow Stones took his quarterstaff and tossed it straight at Brin.

Complete instinct. Brin was so surprised he barely deflected to blow.  The slow defenses gave Stone an opening. The warrior snaked his arm forward, grabbing the elf’s staff and yanking it from him.

The open hand slap caught Brin squarely. More humiliation than brute force the elf opened his eyes wide. The punch from Stones that followed...THAT was brute force.

Brin crumbled. Stones grinned, which turned into a grimace as his leg gave one final spasm before giving way completely beneath him.

Stones sees the woman’s boot move. It is only the slightest of movements. The woman takes a single step toward Radegast. To some it could be a harmless step of friendship. To a warrior trained in the pits and with a thousand battles of experience it is an aggressive maneuver.

Stones blinks out of existence for a moment. He reappears behind the woman and puts his sword to her throat. All it will take is one simple movement.

The woman’s eyes widen in surprise. The surprise of a seasoned warrior caught off guard. The second the sword touches her throat the archers in the balcony disappear.

“Let’s negotiate terms,” says Stones with a grin.

Note
A few moves ago you picked up

Two ritual scrolls: a scroll of Raise Dead (this should be Animated Corpse) in a bone tube and a scroll of Consult Mystic Sages wrapped in leather. 

·  A small glass vial wrapped inside the Raise Dead scroll holds 500 gp worth of residuum—just enough to perform the ritual once 

Library: How to move a statue

"Maybe we should drown em." "Or toss 'em. Cena pays good money for 'em." "He ain't a dwarf. He pays to toss dwarves." Elby listened to the two men argue over his fate like he was some sort of post-dinner snack. I do not want to die on my first adventure. He brushed the thought aside. Breathe. Steady. Those words were the best advice his Uncle had even given him, coming in handy in so many situation. It would be embarrassing if word got back to his sister that he had died on his first solo outing. Okay, maybe clearing his head didn’t always work. He tugged at the robes. It was no use though. The two drunks were clever enough to have hog tied him tightly. Not to mention the pounding sensation in his head from having had drinks with these two fools in the first place. Though who is most the fool? The drunks or the halfling the drunks had tied up. He had paid the bill after drinking with Cena and Orton - happy to have enjoyed a night in the city so much. He did not think anything of it when the two had joined him outside the bar. That was until one of them clubbed him in the back of the head with a piece of wood. He woke up outside the town being argued over. He would have tried talking his way out of the situation except the two of them had added a gag to the effort. Elby had one thought. Towns are dangerous to halflings.

Elby wanders over to the statue and starts looking around the base. Then he hopes up and starts looking at the statue closer. "Do we have to bring the WHOLE statue to the portal? What if we just broke off some of it?" Elby starts pushing and pulling on the statue to see if there's any give.

None. At least for him by himself.

From his spot next to the bookshelves, Stones looks at the statue and then to the door that leads to the portal. "25-35 feet to the door. I imagine the statue weighs a good deal more than I can move myself. Radegast, how do you feel?  Up for moving a statue?" He walks over and joins Elby at the statue.

Radegast remains near the books. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering. Suddenly, a laugh escaped him, sounding half-hiccup, half-giggle.

Radegast laughed. It had been so long since he laughed the sound was foreign. "The monkey brain's, Very tasty for me and good for me, not so good for the monkey though." A terrible joke. Radegast couldn't help but laugh. Maybe the torch light causes tricks on my mind. He was deep within a Berkshire Mountain. Deep enough that he lost count of his steps, lost count of the twists of the passageway, maybe deep enough that he had finally lost himself. Geo's joke was not even funny. On an intellectual level Radegast knew that. "Double-or-nothing," that was the bet Geo have offered while knitting (what dwarf knitted anyway?) over the campfire two nights ago. Only bet when you have nothing to lose. Those were words Radegast's wife had once said, and he recalled them with ease. With nothing to lose Radegast had double-downed. As a result he found himself deep within a mountain's belly with Geo. He already owned the good half of Geo's brew route; many people would have considered it suicide to go with a competitor to such a foreign place. Radegast had long ago cast the fear of dying aside therefore he did not consider it a problem to have such a journey. "Da mushrooms is da best."

"Let me light the way." Radegast fingered his weapon expectantly.

"NO!" Geo was not fond of the flaming weapon. Geo had long ago dismissed the cliche of dwarves not liking magic. It was not magic he had issue with, his issue was that his ingredients were so sensitive that the slightest change in temperature could ruin them and the flaming weapon certainly changed the temperature. 

He sounds like a cheese monger my wife once knew. The cheese monger was constantly complaining that the best cheeses were worth more than a cow, or sheep, or wheat in trade since it took so much more. As a brewer Radegast could understand the thought. As a brewer Radegast also knew that experimentation was also useful. He smiled to himself. A smile and a laugh all in one day. He continued to follow Geo into the heart of the mountain. Despite his 200 plus years Geo could move with great stealth when he felt like it. Then suddenly Geo was gone. A moment before he and his torch had been in front of Radegast. Radegast did not panic. Instead Radegast turned the flame on his sword on.

Stones examines the statue, looking at its size, balance, checking for indications it has been moved before, sub as scratch marks on the floor. "Noienna how are we to move this?  Is there a trick, or do we gather the rest of our party and muscle it across the floor?"

“I have no idea. I always just liked the statue. It is very pretty.” Noienna’s voice echoes deeply from Stones body. The voice never seems to come out the same way twice.

Stones aded a push. The statue did not move, though it swayed…slightly. Between Stones and Elby they found that there was not enough brute force they could snap the base of the statue from its base. They would need Radegast’s strength to snap it.

Elby gives up pushing, well aware the two of them cannot break it off alone. "So where is the portal we're supposed to use for your statue? I saw a set of doors on the upper level."

“Yes, that is where the sacrifice takes place.” Once again Noienna's voice echoes out from Stones, slightly different than the last.

Elby decides to take a seat and begins to check over his arrows and bow. Taking care to ensure each will be able to hit its mark. His mind starts to wander.

It was a cold, snowy day in mid February. No good for hunting, there would be nothing stirring on a day like this. So Elby was in the living room of his parents house checking his arrows and bow. He was enjoying the warmth of the main fire place. As he re-strung his bow, he was listening to his sister give grammar and spelling lessons to a few kids from the village. "When the o and the u are together they make a special sound." Shaleesa was droning on. "This is the same sound we use for words like outside (pointing to the word on a board), south, and mouth. Now repeat after me; out, south, mouth." One student in particular is practicing making the right sound as he reads. Little Trich, the town chemist's son, raises his hand. "This is like the jars at home. My daddy gets some of his dirts from Portsmouth. That's what they say on the side." Shaleesa covers a quick smirk. "That's a tricky word, Trich. Like your name, it's not pronounced the way it looks. Instead of pronouncing it Portsmouth, it sounds more like Portsmith." "But why is it like that?" Asks the young boy. "Well, when we see names of places, they come from different languages and sound different."

Elby snaps out of his day dreaming and places the last arrow he was checking back in his quiver  Elby lowers himself from the base where he was sitting and walks over to where the others are examining the books. "Say, ya ever been to Portsmouth? Know why it's called that? Do you think a portal could come out there?"

Radegast’s ears perk up slightly at Portsmouth. “I’ve been to a Portsmith before. No idea why it was called that.” He looks irritated. Not at Elby specfically but at everything.

Noienna pipes up from deep within Stones’. Her voice does not disguise the surprise and excitement. “Portsmouth?! I was born there. No idea about a portal though. Though with all of the beauty, wonder meant and greatness I would not be surprised.”

Stones waits to see if Radegast will join them. "And what of these scrolls?  I can cast the rituals, and can hold them in safe keeping. Unless one of you has a desire to hold them...?"  He leaves the question hanging.

He leaves the question hanging. Where are they going? Stones watched the ships in the bay slide by. Every day he climbed the 402 steps to tower that was buried into the side of the hill and watched the world continue on without him. Suresh's home had been full of surprises. Books. Journals. Servants that keep the grounds perfect and were happy to fulfill Stones every need. Each morning the pillow had been fluffed, the luxurious bed made until Stones had set that man away. Each morning breakfast had awaited, always steaming as though it had just come from the oven and the smells tempting his most mouth until Stone had dismissed that woman. The chamber maid had promised to fulfill Stones most wanton needs until she had taken the hint of his steely gaze, never to step into his house again. When he climbed the steps to the observation tower he stopped those people and so many more. He had no idea if they knew he could see them, only that the servants continued to work hard to maintain Suresh's...no Stones property until they disappeared into their own small homes as the sun set. The 402 steps were Stones only connection to the outside world. The observation toward was so cunningly cut into the hill that even when he knew where it was Stones could not spy it from far below. 402 steps to know the sun still rose and the world still existed when Stones would have been perfectly content if it had ended. Stones never bothered to inquiry where in the world he actually was. He only knew the magic to take him here any time and really that was all that was necessary. For a while he had not bothered to shave or bathe, until he recalled Suresh's voice, “You will always shave and bathe!” So he did. Stones saw that there game was plentiful on the Sur--HIS grounds and he hunted accordingly. Sometimes with a bow, sometimes with magic, and sometimes with his bare hands. When the cold winds came he fashioned himself a fishing rod and took advantage of the streams and the salt water to fish for game. He ate well...storing enough for the days where he would spend the entire day in the tower. From the tower he could see the neighboring village that shared the island with his lands. Perhaps it was an unspoken agreement. Perhaps it was a magical enchantment. The people were so concerned about the sea that they never looked North toward where Stone's dwelled. He recalled a story about ten ancient towns - located in a perfect line 2 miles in between each of them - that no one bothered with because all eyes were on the sea. Everyone recalled the towns when Sorn the Necromancer had raised the dead and invaded the port city. Perhaps one day the town would rise up and come for me. That might be a good battle. Who  would protect the people taking care of his land. Probably. They had never done anyone wrong. Instead Stones climbed the 402 steps daily and watched the world.

Even to the most casual observer Radegast’s face contained a barely contained mask of rage as he half-listened to his comrades. This is not the room I wanted. This is not the library I meant. He suppresses it as best as he can, though the wrong word could set him off like a powder keg.

Radegast finally walks over to Stones and Elby. He stares directly at Stones chest.

“Noienna,” begins Radegast, trying to keep an even temperament, “are any of your words true or are they all twisted?”

It looks odd sometimes, Noienna’s voice coming from Stones’s chest. This time Noienna’s head slowly seeps out from the top of Stones’, giving it a stacked appearance. She looks pissed.“You asked for the library.”

“For the records of Chulme and the history of the Priests.”

“I had no idea who that is.” She still looks peeved. “In these books,” she nods toward the rows, “are the histories of the people who stepped within this temple. If the Chulme’s stepped inside the stories are here.”

Radegast considers for a long, long moment, he walks over to Stones and Elby. “Okay, after we move out this statue I am going to stand here and burn these books one-by-one to find out what I need.” He is staring at the two bookshelves. 500 books in total. More than enough to kill him.

DM Note:

• Let me know what people would like to do

Hedge: Reinforcements

Voss grabbed his brother's arm, yanking Damian hard toward the door. "We only have minutes." Clarissa, holding her new born babe, had a shocked expression on her face. She had worn it since Voss had come into the room with blood covered weapons and a wild look in his eyes. "Hello nephew." He said it to the surprisingly quiet package she held. He must be only what - two, three months old? Definitely a strange introduction to his newest family member.

"He is the rightful ruler." His brother's words pierced the tense silence.

"A dead rightful ruler." Voss said it matter-of-factly. Even growing up Voss had been matter-of-fact in that face of Damian's designs and schemes. Damian pulled his arm away - Voss had two choices, tear the arm out of the socket or let it go. He let it go.

It was instinct that led Voss to grab his brother first. If I had any sense I would have grabbed the babe and the parents would have followed. The opportunity was well past, the sister-in-law Lady Carissa pulled the child tighter to her breast. "I will die with my people." She had a certain regal stateless to her, giving commands as though it was presumed they would be obeyed.

"Die a thousand times raped. In battle men have no control over actions. You. Will. Die." Especially to one so beautiful, especially since the men had been bigger each other since no women were available.  

"Fine." She turned away as she said it. Facing the window where assailants were certainly going to kill her sooner rather than later.  

"Fine." The words were his brother's. He knew his brother always schemed for this type of position. To believe his name would be on the mouth's of bards. "

"Fine." Voss repeated the words as he stepped toward Carissa's back. The point drove through the back of her neck - a blow where no scream for help could escape. With his other hand he reached around, grabbing the child from her. She collapsed at his feet, his hand firmly holding the child. He turned toward Damian. "She made her choice, brother. The child has his own life and death. What are the terms of yours."

Voss held the child while pointing his sword at his brother. "You've lost your damn mind." "Your job is protect your child." Voss's brother stared at him. "So you killed my wife?" The statement sounded ridiculous. The statement WAS ridiculous. I just killed my sister-in-law, Voss realized. His brother continued to stare at him. "She would have gotten you all killed." Voss sounded defensive when he said it. Regretful even. His brother mumbled something. Voss lowered his sword slightly in order to drink the strange stight fully.

Voss lowered his bow slightly in order to drink the strange sight fully. Remsfeld stopped, nearly colliding with Voss. EVERYONE stops. A woman tied to a fountain will do that to a man.

"Krom. What devilry is this? Qwyn. I'm shy with women. You have a way with them. Find out if they live. Why they linger here. And if they have seen the shard we seek."

"Gents, I think I've seen this type of honey trap before. Keep your guards up and cover me." Qwyn hiked up his pants and moved forward. Every sense on edge for something out of place.

Qwyn hiked up his pants. Every sense was on edge for something out place. "The best lies have an ounce of truth. The best traps are not traps at all but lies wrapped in an ounce of truth designed to pull at the most base instructions of man." Qywn nodded in agreement while the rest of the class looked around quizzically. Actually that part was not true. The buffoon Rhaul looked focused for once, more than a glimmer of understanding on his dwarven features. Ethical Philosophy was Qwyn's favorite class. There were no right or wrong answers, only the application of information to any given situation. If your child was starving and you had no money for bread, would you steal? That was the simplest question asked in the class so far. As the only one who ever HAD been starving and attempted to steal Qwyn had surpressed his snicker at those in the class who were too honorable to steal. They spoke of doing chores for food or proving the worth to the baker. When your stomach hurts so much you can no longer think, tell me your answer then. Qwyn continued to focus on his instructor's words. As a former tax agent Instructor Hayes often had an interesting tale or to illustrate his point. Once a small villa, the man had a wife who looked like a horse, six ugly daughters and no sons could not pay his takes. What excuse do you think he gave?" Qwyn's hand shot up. It was the only one. Instructor Hayes gave the slightest indicitaiton to the halfling.

"He had no money to pay his three copper taxes since the dowry's for the daughters were so large."

Instructor Hayes smiled. "Correct, dear Qwyn." There was a pause before the next question. "Have you been with a woman, Qwyn?" Qwyn's mouth opened in surprise. He felt his ears turning red, scarlet creeping up his neck. The rest of the classe snickered at the question. Qwyn shook his head no. The good professor then continued. I will tell you something that will keep more coin in your pocket than any other information. Are you interested, Qwyn. Of course! The scarlet disappeared. Well, Qwyn, all women look the same in the dark, a good whore costs five copper, and a fat ugly woman with a family in danger will work to please you like no other. I saved myself two coppers that day and the man kept his farm."

Voss added, trying to break the tension, "And refrain from slipping her YOUR shard. Ha ha." Voss draws full and aims at her as he steps forward towards the fountain with caution.

Qywn continued moving forward, checking perception. Is she awake? Anything? From ten feet away his keen eyesight lets him know she was indeed breathing. Qwyn moved closer. Not exactly sure what he planned. Only that he planned SOMETHING. Magic? No, I would have sensed it.

"If this is what I fear it is I'd be more worried about it getting loped off at this point." Qywn tried to keep it glib. The fountain itself was about ten feet tall. He would have to climb up cut her loose. Though a few well aimed arrows might get her down too. Though it would drop her into whatever is in the fountain.

Alion thought before speaking. It was his way. It was also a difficult question. "You don' believe in God then?" It was more of a statement than a question as Preacher Maine's pin-like black eyes bored holes through Alion.

"No God would let that happen." Alion glared back as hard as he could. It was the glare of a boy up against the glare of a seasoned man.

"Hah! The lament of the weary." Preacher Maine's laugh was deeper and darker sounding than the coals the dwarves dug out from the earth.

Only two weeks and his man laughs. I will never laugh again. Alion promised it to himself. Only fourteen days since they had fled Bridgewater. The first two days were spent traversing small game trails that ran between the small viallages and ponds that the Preacher knew by the back of his hand. The Preacher promised these were good, honest people who would help them. The Preacher had been correct, though Alion noticed he always lied when he said he was traveling to next when he left the villages. The villages had provided two mules for them, along with enough food for a day.

"I have brought God to these people. God has rewarded me." The statement had started the argument when Alion asked where this God was. "See," Preacher Maine said, "I don't save these people. Honor these people before. They don't save and honor us now. That is how God rewards." Alion had become furious. It sounded like a piss-poor reason for his parents and Tiara's death, along with a piss-poor thought that someone they were to blame. He told Preacher Maine as much. "I can see why you think that. I would have thought that are your age." Preacher Maine added emphasis to "at your age" in the same way his father did when he father would lecture him. Though now his father was dead.

"At what age will I think my family dying is just?"

Preacher Maine's eyes widdened at those words, "Never, boy. It never goes away. When you believe God is completely just then you will recall he is not--just--at--all. If you want to survive in this world take no sides, piss in no one else's pot, compliment every ugly maiden because it is all practice. All practice to make sure it comes out friendly and it will sound friendly. You understand?"

"Yes, make people feel better about themselves like a jester in the court." Alion was not sure where the words came from. Only that they came out.

"Yes. You laugh a the jester. The jester always eats. You don't laugh at the jester the jester dies. It is a much easier way to live than coming home with a cheese wheel to take an arrow in your back. Because the Jester, when ain't no one laughing he knows what he is about to get."

"I still don't believe in God." Alion snapped it off.

"God believes in you though. God doesn't test ANY man. A man tests himself when he reacts to how the world treats him. A man makes those decisions. God, God always listens. When you compliment everyone all the time and it becomes second nature...well then God always takes you at your word when you compliment HIM. That is when you can really help others."

Alion took in the words. "When you fool yourself, you fool everyone, everyone including God." Preacher Maine let a grin reveal his rotting teeth. "See. You have religion inside you. I knew it." Alion continued to think.

Alion continued to think. Can we tell if the fountain holds plain water?  Finally he spoke. "Maybe we should test the waters by throwing some bits of boar in."

Qwyn's eyes widdened. "Alion, you are a genius." Qwyn reached into his bag, returning with a fleshy, sapping fresh piece of plant tree. He quietly droped a piece of boar in the fountain.

It made a nice plopping sound as it met the water.

It made a nice plopping sound. Remsfeld heard his left wrist snap with a pleasant plop a moment before he felt the dull pain. I have had sprains hurt worse than his. He lifted his left arm to defend, his shield tilting at an unusual angle since he could no longer control it. I would take the pain of the sprain if i could control mu shield. He saw his opponents mace would make ot past his defenses easily. He compensated by twisting his body sideways. The mace impacted his shoulder, reverberating through his body and crushing his shoulder. Strange. I never expected to be bludgeoned to death. Remsfeld brought the bloodied short sword into position - he had started the battle with a long sword though who knows where it went. He knew where his helm had gone. The nose protector was currently crushed, digging deep into his nose with the resulting gash forming a fine river of blood. The New England Legion had appeared out of nowhere in the dew covered morning. According to the dwarves the Berkshire Road was free for trade. The New England Legion disagreed. Such were battles born from. Remsfeld was acting as a guardsmen for the shipment of ore - one of four guardsmen when the battle began. Now he stood alone, a pile of New Englanders at his feet. The New Englander smashed Remmy's right wrist, the shockwave traveling up and down his arm. Completely spent Remsfeld dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and awaited death. "You will get no ransom for me." Remmy spit out the words between his moments of spitting out blood. The New Englander - one of twenty or more still remaining - picked up Remmy's short sword. He was a dark man. A man as dark as midnight. Behind him the New Englander's were looting the bodies and reading the ore train to move once more.  "May you survive the night, dwarf." Remmy felt his orbital bone collapse under the chain mail fist before blissful unconsciousness overtook him.

I am blind in one eye. Remsfeld tried to remember. Found he could not and the darkness overtook him. I am blind in one eye. Remsfeld tried to remember. This time he could. I should be dead. With his remaining good eye he glanced about. Heavy worn drapes. An open window. Cool air. A stone ceiling. Definitely not a wood elf. Or fey. Most likely human. He closed his good eye, fatigue overtaking him once more. Remsfeld woke once more. He moved his toes slightly, not looking around this time, instead checking his body for permanent damage. He could move - slightly - though it hurt terribly. Several broken ribs, his face was numb, and his left shoulder was immobile. Tears trickled down his cheek from his good left eye - relief or anguish, he was not certain. He felt the breeze touch his neck. My beard should warm me there. He recalled a slash in the battle where a long sword had trimmed his beard and shaved his neck with the same swipe. He recalled the New Englanders shock when Remmy had slashed HIS throat in return.

The rumbling awoke Remmy again. It was dark. Were those stars? His body slide slid slighty as whatever he was layong on jarred and jerked. Pain shot though his ahoulder. Darkness. Night? Or was he just passing out again? He passed out again.

He was mercifully stationary this time.  His good-eye fluttered open once more, his vision obscured by dried crust floating along his eyeball. He squeezed the one eye tight, hoping to wash away the debris. I am not quite a cripple yet. He pursed his lips slightly - dry and cracked. If whoever has me wanted me dead I would be dead. Water, he said.

"Common? Has my Son gone that far?" The second to last thing he had expected to hear was dwarven; the last was his father's voice.

It was not a full surprise. Everyone was too far on edge to be surprised. Still, the beautiful woman began to melt before Qwyn's very eyes. The transportation with slow, though the tiefling could swear it was instantaneaous. The vines became ropes, ropes she used to hold herself high in the air, looking down at the party. The beautiful woman became a hag. Everyone has been told the child stories of the ugly woman who could defean with but a simple scream.

She opened her mouth to yell. Fully prepared, Voss loosed his knocked arrow at her (28 to hit), the blow sinking deeply into her leg (17 hit points). His second arrow went wide (15 to hit).

At the same time the bushes crashed loudly. Another Arborean. This one larger than all the others. Running up behind the party, swinging a scythe and definitely not pleased. Remsfelt readied himself to engage.

DM note:

• Map later but...Qwyn it at the fountain. Voss is in the back. Next to him is Alion. In front of them is Remmy. There is ten feet between Qwyn and the rest of you

Library: Where are the missing souls?

Stones walked back to the crumbled ruins and examines the books on the shelf, careful not to touch anything, and tries to interpret and mystical symbols or magical patterns.  He draws upon everything he learned from Suresh, hoping to gain some understanding, some insight.  With Suresh at the forefront of his thoughts, he makes a methodical tour of the room, looking for anything that may give him an indication of the book that holds Suresh’s soul…

I have to explain it to this fool again. For the fourth time that day Stones provided information on why the Hudson Army would fail. For the fourth time the Commander shook his head in disgust. "That is opinion, Stones, not fact. We needed this man's army. We need this man."

Stones could not help but growl, "Fact is his men did not respect him. Fact he is going to get his men killed. If not this battle then eventually." A strange thought slipped into Stones's mind and he failed to keep it from escaping his lips. "You are not interested in the truth. Only complaining about everything." Stones found himself digging shit holes for the next week. Better to clean shit that listen to that idiot anymore.

Stones struggles. Quietly you all hear Noienna’s voice. “Let me help you.”

Elby wanders around the first floor collecting his arrows.

It has been so long since I have seen her. I yearn to be with her again. To stare into her sparkling green eyes. To run my fingers through her light brown hair and caress her body. I miss the smell of lavender that filled the room every time she took a bath. The way she would snuggle up to me and whisper her dreams of the future as we drifted to sleep. If only there was some way I could be back with her and not be trapped in Portsmith. I know she wants me to be happy and realizes the only way that can be is if I'm free to come and go at my own choosing. Damn her family for trying to trap there. If only there was a way I could show them that my intentions for Amelia are pure and that I have no desire to hurt her.

Stones continued to pick through the books. Not opening any. He had an idea of what they would do. Noienna’s knowledge helped. Nestled among the books he found a bone scroll case. An index system was what she had described. Patterns in the bindings on the books.

After collecting the arrows from the first floor, Elby climbs a ladder (C13). He walks to where the western bowman was. He collects his arrows and checks the dead body for anything of interest.

Nothing worthwhile. The bow has vanished. The body had liquefied. Actually it was pretty disgusting.

This guy is one ugly fuck. It reminds me of that portrait Mosk showed me in his family’s home. It was next to an uncle of his, Boelles, who once worked with the Chumbe priests. He was a successful trader who had a reputation for twisting the deal to his favor. There was a rumor that he finally pushed his luck too far in a trade with the priests. Shortly after that, he was never seen again.

Radegast continued to gaze into the nothinginess. Caught up in thought. Watching Stones wander across the room searching. Searching. Searching.

The ale was strong. Strong, sweet, and thick enough Radegast could slip a spoon into it and it would stand on end. Geo inspected it with a practiced, skeptical eye, as though the bubbling head would provide insight beyond his bulbous nose. A bulbous nose he skimmed atop the head of the ale like a dragon fly going across the water. Radegast understood the skepticism - it was Geo's recipe he was imitating. As a dwarf Geo’s recipe had been passed down from generation-to-generation on deathbeds, at weddings, when a dwarf became a man. It was a simple bet. Radegast had received a sip of Geo's ale. If he could make the exact same brew Geo would give up half his trade route; if Radegast failed then Geo received half his route. Geo sipped. Geo lost half his route.

Elby goes back down the ladder and rejoins the others. “How can you tell what each book is?” He starts looking at the bindings, hoping to come across something he recognizes. 

“So Noienna, are you saying all these books represent souls taken by the Chumbe priests?”

Maybe I could find the book of Boelles’s soul and set him free. His soul is bound to Portsmith in death, so it should return there. Then Mosk and his family would stop hunting me. Then I could be with Amelia again.

Radegast walks over and joins them. “Let me help.” He is quiet, thoughtful. Intense.

Your combined magical knowledge (26, nice roll) puts it all together as you search the room. Deciphering patterns. Checking the strength of the magic. Making sure to be careful. It takes half an hour but you finally get there.

When Noienna was alive – indeed the statue is of her – the older books were among the Western wall. Three hundred years of knowledge. After so math, looking at a various bindings, and that the legend of Lolo is only twenty years ago then the bookshelves where Radegast and Stones fought the Mind Strike…those are the shelves which would contain the souls of the departed if they are even there. Noienna emphasizes the last part. She also reminds that in order to finally release the souls the statue of her must be transported to the portal.

Portsmouth. The name had never made any sense to Elby. There was neither a port nor a smith to be found. His fiancée Amelia laughed when he asked her the question. "It keeps people away." The usual mirth in her voice was present. Always mirth, never gloom. "An army would look at a map and see no water. He would think what sort of fools name the town such. I am a great commander of an army who will not slaughter fools!" She raised her hand into the air as though hoisting a sword, her voice rising as she turned the final phrase into a proclamation. She then collapsed into a fit of giggles. Elby grasped her playfully around the waist, digging his fingers into her body so she would laugh harder. "All you need is an equally foolish captain to attack." She broke his grasp, slipping away like an eel before spinning with a cat-like grace to be in her feet. "Then they would invade a swamp? What fool falls in love with swamps?" This fool, Elby thought. Though he would have bet she already knew that.

Note:

• Buried on the shelves of the library are two ritual scrolls: a scroll of Raise Dead in a bone tube and a scroll of Consult Mystic Sages wrapped in leather. 
• A small glass vial wrapped inside the Raise Dead scroll holds 500 gp worth of residuum—just enough to perform the ritual once 
• Maybe if you destroy the books you will survive the psychic backlash. Who REALLY knows.