(Arc 7-1) Gathering information and odds and ends.

[Anastasia]

Notes: It's been awhile. I'm going to focus on getting logs up when I can, for reals this time. I think I have most anything, excuse any gaps. It's interesting seeing this old stuff.

> ----
> After research, time and effort the group returns to Commander Oberuth. He wears a breastplate and armor today, sitting and waiting. "Sit down, all of you," he waves, "At ease and get to the point. I assume each of you have read the reports by now?"
* Seira nods in response, taking the seat.
<Shamal> "I have," Shamal affirms as she slides herself into a seat.
* Berlioz nods. "I've read the ruins reports, yes. Not exactly thrilled with the idea of getting in there anytime soon myself."
> "I believe you understand better now why the ruins attract such interest and also such words of caution. We don't know what lies there, but the rumors of vast treasure are likely true, or something has gone to a God's amount of trouble to fool us." Oberuth ponders, stroking his wide chin. "You're the intelligent ones, the heads of the class and all of that important stuff and also versed in magic. What do you think of it?"
<Seira> "We are unlikely to get much past the other teams should we venture to the ruins, Sir," Seira responds, "yet I have confidence we can avoid any deaths, armed with this information, proper preparation and, of course, caution."
<Shamal> "Well, we already know that treasure is there, from the mage who found those enchanted warmaces," Shamal notes, steepling her fingers. "Also, we found a ruin in the barbarian lands recently that we believe was made by the same civilisation, and found more than our fair share of valuable artifacts."
<Shamal> "Personally I think that these ruins might even house one of these fabled 'Resorts' - I presume you're familiar with the weapon Lord Khardon found in the far North, sir?"
* Berlioz shakes head. "Balmuria as a country still lacks the man and firepower to tackle the exploration of the ruins. However, there's far too much to just leave them lying there. I believe that fortifying the guard around the ruins would be wise for now. But we are simply sending fodder to die by throwing soldiers -inside- the place."
> "...you have my attention," Commander Oberuth instantly eyes Shamal. "That said...I agree with Berlioz. Normal soldiers are already forbidden from going in. How certain are you that a Resort could be in there?"
<Seira> "This depends on whose we believe the ruins belonged to, Sir," Seira interjects. "Is there a sample of the writing one of the reports mentioned, which could not be deciphered?"
* Shamal shakes her head. "It's merely speculation. But the ruin we found in the barbarian lands mentioned the existence of several, including an all powerful 'final resort'. Considering the scope of defences within these particular ruins, I think what's down there must be incredibly important to warrant such defences. Any one of the 'resorts' could fit the bill."
> "No there isn't. You're referring to the room with engraven pillars?" Commander Oberuth considers, "Hmm. The mission to send you to try and steal Malmuth's magical sword was motivated in part by the fact that we lack magical arms - even a few can change the course of a battle. Khardon's Resort is such a weapon in the hands of the right person. If another was found?"
* Berlioz ponders. "Well... I've seen more mention of such thing as a Last Resort, myself. Alongside mention of the other ones. I've been researching the gnomish matters for the last few weeks, and compiled my notes on the matter. This could give us a few leads..."
<Shamal> Turning to Berlioz, Shamal smiles encouragingly. "What did you find out, Berlioz?"
<Berlioz> "Well, it's pretty scattered as is. I've found a few vague leads regarding King Daa-vid's power, some tidbits over the origin of golemwork... but the most interesting thing is an old transcribed poem that regards the Resorts."
> "Go on," Oberuth crosses his arms, "Elaborate." He waves his hand, a little hurry up gesture.
<Berlioz> "The excerpt I read went... 'The bow, the sword, the dagger, the ring, the shield and the last. Do you ever dream about them again? Dream about the day when you'll go there; where the Eternes awaits? It's so bad that...your dream became your nightmare, gnome.' It's not really that much, but it at least indicates the actual veracity of the Resorts in some way, and how many/which are they."
<Shamal> "So three are weapons, one is a ring, one is a shield... and then that mysterious last..." Shamal hums thoughtfully.
<Seira> "Sir," Seira asks, sitting up straighter. "May I inquire as to the exact powers of the Resort currently in our hands? What is it that sets it apart from the magical weaponry we are familiar with?"
<Shamal> "I tried to analyse it once myself but it defied my knowledge," Shamal offers, sounding a bit depressed.
> "Six of them. One is mighty, two would be..." Oberuth looks downward, brow furrowed. "Seira? The blade is powerful indeed - it courses with twin elemental powers, and Khardon claims it struck a 'fatal blow' even on a large golem of ice."
> A pause at that, "Take my sword, a strong weapon, for example." Oberuth stands, drawing it from it's sheath. It sounds metallic and raspy, yet flies lighter than a puff of air. "It's called Grand Striker, Goblin's Bane. Well suited for goblins - it can slay the strongest one of them even in a blow. While not suited for human warfare very well, it's still one of the stronger magical weapons our nation possesses."
* Seira nods, listening attentively.
* Shamal likewise seems quite interested in this topic.
> "My sword is magical, powerful - yet it barely casts a shadow on the power of Khardon's resort. My weapon cuts through armor well, his slips through it as if it isn't there. My slays goblins, his turns his foes into twitching bodies, stricken by raw elemental might.'
> "Speaking of..." The Commander puts his sword away, "Lyselle, Khardon will talk to you about your sword soon or later. As long as it's in our nation, it's a national treasure in case of war. Make sure nothing happens to it."
> Sitting back down, Commander Oberuth considers. "Seira and Berlioz, as spellcasters, will studying the inscriptions on those pillars of stone help you decode what the meaning of this ruin is?"
* Berlioz rubs his chin, pondering for a moment. "Quite frankly, it won't guarantee anything, but it's at the very least a start."
<Seira> "Sir, while I now see the vast difference between the classes of magical weapons at our disposal, I cannot understand the reasoning for focusing on the Resorts. There is, after all, merit in quantity over quality, in sufficient numbers." As the Commander asks his question, she inclines her head. "A simple spell of the first circle alone would be able to translate the writing."
* Lyselle lifts her eyebrows slowly, nearly choking on the term 'national treasure'. "I hope Balmurai will continue to entrust me with Shamal's work, then..." sahe answers, eyes a touch wide.
<Shamal> "It's my finest creation ever," the blonde witch affirms proudly.
> "Yes...They will, at least." A nod to Lyselle a moment, thinking. "There is truth in that, but even making basic magical arms is expensive and difficult. Finding a truly masterful single artifact can change the tide, or if dealt correctly fund much, much more."
<Seira> "Thank you for sharing Balmuria's considerations with us, Sir," Seira responds, satisfied with the answer.
> "Now then...are there any other matters?" Commander Oberuth asks, "If not, there is a Sir Farmsturt that wishes to speak with you - he contacted me recently. That aside?"
<Shamal> "I have one issue, actually," Shamal clears her throat. "A guest of mine in the city was recently attacked by a Sea Hag at the harbour. Such a creature is far too dangerous to have lurking in our waters, so I would like to investigate and remove her."
<Seira> "With regard to the apprentices of Irenes we captured, Sir," Seira raises another issue. "As there is evidence of mitigating factors, I would like to ask that lighter sentences were given."
> "...what?" Commander Oberuth blinks owlishly, red face turning redder. "I wonder if that ruin is leaking...another magical occurance?" Oberuth considers that, rubbing his head, "Oh yes, and that. We're going to hold onto them for now. I have no intention of letting them go free, and execution them could be a waste of potential use or information."
* Seira nods, before asking, "Which ruin would that be, Sir?"
> "The mysterious one full of magic we spent the last half hour discussing?" Oberuth raises his eyebrow before putting it aside, huffing out. "Alright. As far as a possible sea hag, let it lie for the moment. Instead...We have a vested interest in finding out more about those ruins. I won't order anyone to go in there in good concious, but...you have permission to enter if you choose. Will you?"
* Shamal doesn't look thrilled. "Well, if nothing else, I recommend increased patrols of the harbour to deter... swimmers. The Hag likes to lure people in by taking the form of a beautiful woman before she drains their life force. As for the ruins... I'm still leery, personally, and would prefer to investigate once we have a bit more experience of these matters. Perhaps speaking to Sir Farmsturt will shed more light on them, however?"
> "Yes. We'll spare what manpower we can to increase dock patrols." OBeruth considers a moment, thinking. "In fact...I believe I'll personally go and investigate." Frowning as he thinks a few moments, "Just in case."
<Seira> "It is surely as well as defeated, Sir," Seira says with a nod.
<Shamal> "Er... it's only an illusion sir. The hag's true appearance is quite repulsive," Shamal cautions, before she blushes. "Um, not that I think you needed to be reminded or was implying anything, of course!"
> Oberuth looks at the quiet heroes, "Go on and talk to Sir Farmsturt, and then decide. Hm..." Oberuth considers just half a second, "Seira, come with me for now. The others can contact Sir Farmsturt."
> "..." Commander Oberuth gives Shamal a long, long loooong look...before he throws back his head and laughs. "Yes, how does your foot taste Don't worry, no offense taken."
> ?
* Seira nods silently, quite willing to follow the Commander.
* Shamal just shrinks down in her seat, feeling mortified. "Sorry, but Quapeth seemed quite level headed as well and he was still enchanted..." she mutters.
> "Well then, dismissed. Shamal, I've heard worse and seen worse mistakes. I'll be careful, if that makes you feel better."  With that, Commander Oberuth walks out.
* Shamal nods and rises, letting Seira and the commander leave first before turning to Lyselle and Berlioz. "Well, shall we look up Sir Farmsturt?" she asks, trying to recover her decorum.
> ----

[Anastasia]

> A few minutes of walking, a few minutes of watching Commander Oberuth go into the guard station, a short conversation with Captain Johannes there. It's very civil, but the orders are made blunt and clear.  Once that's done, the Commander heads out, and as you step into the warm air of the coming spring, "Apprehensive about going into the ruins?" he asks to break the silence.
<Seira> "It would be trying on my own," she admits, though it isn't easy. "Better to gather more information to increase our collective chances before making the pitch, as it were, Sir."
> "Yes. You're often very...aggressive about accepting missions," The Commander pauses just half a second, "You took the proposed mission to trick Malmuth with vigor, only to get shot down. Does this one worry you more?"
* Seira frowns. "I do not wish to have that experience again, that is all, Sir. I was sincere when I believed our chances of returning from the ruin alive and relatively in one piece were quite good. Unfortunately, I also do not believe we would be of much good beyond deciphering the aforementioned writings, unless we get a lucky break. An entire plan cannot be built upon luck, so it is merely a matter of how important the meaning of those
<Seira> An entire plan cannot be built upon luck, so it is merely a matter of how important the meaning of those writings is to Balmuria."
> "Yes. It's still a start - as word of this passes onto the capital, interest will continue to grow. If the ruin is a waste of time, finding out now would save us what resources we have." Commander Oberuth takes a long stop, then begins a quick pace towards the docks, the sea wind beginning to blow into your faces.
* Seira keeps up. "I will see whether what new information we can gain from Sir Farmsturt will help me persuade my friends to go on this limited excursion, Sir."
> "I hope so." Commander Oberuth agrees simply, going into silence. The walk to the docks is without interruption, only a few ships in today. It's a bit quiet, clouds rolling in from the sea. "...So. This hag gets your attention and...?"
<Seira> "I'm not sure I follow, Sir," she says, exhibiting signs of mild confusion.
> Walking towards the edge and lookign down at the green sea water of the Bay of Sparkling Stars, "This hag. I did say I'd investigate it myself, even if I have to swim in and drag it up by hand."
<Seira> "I could limit myself to a mere observer, Sir," she says, cracking an excited smile which belies her fairly bland words. "Would that be acceptable?"
> Looking down at the water, as you note a few patrolling guards looking your way with curiosity, "That's fine. If I do find it, arrow ro spell support would be handy." Oberuth kneels, "...though I suspect the trick will be finding it."
* Seira nods, letting him work and content with observing.
> roll 1d20
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20 --> [ 1d20=17 ]{17}
> OOC - Will you be peeking in the water at all, Seira?
<Seira> OOC: Not yet! Observing him, not the water!
> The Commander kneels down, exploring the edge of the water, walking along. About twenty minutes of time ticks by as he does a loop of the docks. Seira also does not see anything notable as they go, the minutes ticking by. "Damnations," Commander Oberuth mutters to himself, "Hmm. Shamal seems to have a knack at finding water creatures. Does she do anything in particular that you've noticed?"
<Seira> "She summoned a sea creature once, but that was only after spotting her target, Sir."
> "Not an option," The Commander snorts to himself, before wiping his brow with the back of his arm. "Well, that does hint that I might need to go into the water myself." As he speaks, her starts fiddling with his breastplate, "Would you hold this, Seira?"
* Seira holds the breastplate!
> Down to red underpadding and light clothes, the Blonde Bear takes a breath. Oh, you're getting some attention, a few soldiers pointing and looking, some sailors pausing duties to peek. "...Seira, do you know how to swim?"
<Seira> "I sink like a rock, Sir," she reports. "I never had reason to learn."
> "Well, even more incentive that I don't," Oberuth smiles just a moment, before kneeling down and diving into the water. Despite his size he doesn't make much of a splash, swimming well before starting to dive down.
* Seira keeps an eye on him as he swims, as well as on any threats.
> OOC- Spot check, I suppose.
<Seira> roll 1d20+5
<Reiko-chan> Seira rolled : 1d20+5 --> [ 1d20=18 ]{23}
> roll 1d20+10 searching
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20+10 searching --> [ 1d20=9 ]{19}
> You see Commander Oberuth take long laps of the bay, swimming with easy energy as he dives deeper in. Around ships he goes, plunging into the clear green depths. Eventually he returns to Seira, soaking wet and floating in the water nearby. "Something's disturbed the sea bed somewhat, but it doesn't seem to be nearby."
* Seira offers him a spare cloak in lieu of a towel. "Perhaps it has fed off enough of Shamal's friend for the time being, Sir."
> "Perhaps," Oberuth takes the cloak and quickly tries, taking his breastplate back. "If it isn't dealt with soon, I'll talk to SHamal about it. She is the expert here."
* Seira nods.
> Smoothing back his now soggy and drooping hair, "I'll pass along any more sightings if anything happens. Dismissed for now, and good fortune with the ruins if you go." With that, Commander Oberuth heads for the nearest set of buildings, a small sailor's pub in particular.

[Anastasia]

> Sir Farmsturt lives just out of Balmuria. It's a small farmstead to the west, a few fieldhands starting to work the fields for the coming seasons. On arriving at the sprawling two story house, you find Sir Farmsturt answering the door. A tall, gangling may well into his middle age, steps swift. "Ooooh. Good! You've come - you're the ones who sold the gnomish artifacts, aren't you?"
<Shamal> "That's right," Shamal smiles genially as she nods. "Lieutenant Shamal Velka, at your service," she introduces herself.
* Berlioz lightly raises his eyebrow. "Berlioz Finley. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
> "Come in, all of you," Sir Farmsturt steps back, hair a mess of silvery gray, well brushed in theory, but spilling all over. It's a nice house, you know - the walls are dark toned wood, a solid stairway leading to the second floor. A few doors down on the secondf loor is a library, a small collection of books and chairs. "Seat yourselves, my wife should bring up refreshments in a few minutes."
* Shamal idly glances over the books to see if there's anything interesting or recognisable as she slowly sits herself down.
> Most of them don't have titles on the spine, but you note a geography book and a history book or two. Scholarly things, mostly. "So, I'd like to ask, where did you find those artifacts?"
* Lyselle paysmore attention to the construction as she follows Shamal's example, smiling and seating herself as she watches their host. He seemed a curious knight, or whatever his actual position might be...he was clearly more of a scholarly bent.
* Retrieving #dunes modes...
<Shamal> "We found a strange earthen dome out in the barbarian lands," Shamal begins, giving rough details of its approximate location. "It was odd enough to investigate further, and we were able to see inside that it was clearly hollow and artifical, and there was evidence of powerful magic having once been used on the interior of the dome, so we decided to explore it - it went rather deep underground."
> "I see, I see, I see." A nod to himself, head drooping low, "That does sound like a gnomish fortress - all the surviving examples I've seen are ones that connect to the surface via a small dome or vent and then expand downward."
<Shamal> "So you've found others yourself?" Shamal asks, leaning forward with interest.
> "A few - there was one discovered in Burksut, a far southern town in Malmuth, and there are ruins of one in the Desert Fiefdoms as well. They're not common, and the ones I've seen had all been found before and at least partially looted. Was yours..." He pauses, breathing out, "Intact?"
<Shamal> "Not... as such," Shamal shakes her head slowly. "I believe it was in the same state the gnomes left it in, however - there was a golem there. It told us little, but did say how most of the residents left, and those that didn't leave..." she breathes out deeply before forging on, "At the very bottom we found a being of pure energy. It spoke of how it had destroyed the mortal heretics; the followers of Daa-Vid."
> "By Helm..." Sir Farmsturt looks on, "That's an archaeological discovery of a lifetime. A golem and...Was that some sort of being connected to why the gnomes vanished?" Sir Farmsturt nods to himself again, thinking. "As you can tell if you look at the world, gnomes are nothing more than a legend to most. Yet all the record I've found point that they were extremely strong in the past."
<Shamal> "From the implications I got, they challenged the Gods, and were struck down to the last for their heresy," Shamal explains, thinking back to her conversation with the luminescent figure. "It would have slain us, but said we were protected by Helm. It did mention those who worship the 'False Ones' would be struck down - I presume that to mean the Gnomish God-King Daa-Vid, but I know of no others."
> "Yes, yes...that would make sense..." Farmsturt murmurs to himself, going and taking a book from his bookshelf, skimming it to a page in the middle, reading. "Yes, yes, yes. The gnomish ruins I've seen also tend to have abnormal...battle scars, if you will."
<Shamal> "We only found a single corpse, which does strike me as a bit odd, actually..." Shamal considers. "It was directly below the being we encountered at the bottom, and we assumed it to be the General in charge of the facility... Oh! And the golem described the place as 'Prison Fortress 19', so that means there's at least 18 others, in addition to who knows how many other kinds of gnomish facilities still out there."
> "A whole mountain of them, if they can be found..." Farmsturt goes to his book, flipping wildly through the pages. "A strong magical aura - it's magic was intact? Any magic in the others had long since collapsed. They were like dusty old graveyard, but you found one with a golem?"
* Berlioz nods blankly. "Yes. And the magical wards were still very strong - as if they've never even waned."
<Shamal> "There was only faint magic on the first level, what I think used to be a teleportation circle, but everything past that was fully intact, yes," Shamal agrees. "Said defenses didn't seem to be triggered by the being that slew them, but we set them off," she concludes a bit sheepishly.
> "Gods, what still lurks under there? A wizard with the time and the proper training - old Irenes would've loved this..." Going back and forth, he paces and goes for another book. "Even the minor leavings are valuable - gnomecraft of various levels is superior to steel masterwork. But even the strongest pales to what whispers are between the pages of the stories..."
* Shamal almost chokes on that, sitting up rigidly. "You know Irenes?"
<Lyselle> "...Irenes?" Lyselle asks sharply, lifting her eyebrows and frowning darkly.
> "Hm, hm? Yes, yes I do, I knew him from exploring the Malmuthian ruin," Farmsturt murmurs absently, "Good fellow, investigating what he could about them. Shame that I can't go there anymore...hmph. Stupid new Malmuth." Scowling as he filps more pages, "But yes, yes. "
<Shamal> "He's wanted for Grand Theft Arcana in Balmuria," Shamal points out as respectfully as she can. "Perhaps you should choose your associates with more care, sir."
> "...really? Really?" HE stops and turns, even if his nose is still in the book, reading and flipping ardently. "...oh. My, my. I did not think him the type, but perhaps he's gotten desperate in his old age."
<Shamal> "Perhaps he has... when did you last see him, and would you have any idea on his current whereabouts?" the blonde asks, hoping he'll be as free with his information as she's been with hers.
> "Oh, it was...ten years ago? Twenty? No, closer to twenty." A savvy nod at that, "It's been a long time. He was investigating the gnomish ruins and magic connected to them."
<Shamal> "Oh, well," Shamal looks disappointed. "Back to these gnomish ruins, then, yes?"
> "Hm? Oh yes, the ruins...what did you find in them? Anything else of interest?" he inquires.
<Shamal> "A few simple magical scrolls - the spells on them are well known even today," Shamal begins to list off, "Some armour, most of which was rotten or rusted to uselessness except from a single buckler. Various documents relating to prisoners and a war against some unknown foe."
<Shamal> "A magical amulet, some potions of remove fear - still fresh after all this time, and some metal which we had forged into a rather nice weapon for Berlioz," she gestures to the bard. "Oh, it probably doesn't matter if you haven't seen him for so long, but if you do run into Irenes again, it goes without saying that you shouldn't aid him with any of the information we've found."
> "Oh yes, yes, I suppose so, in the name of justice..." A pause as he flips int he book, "OH! Did you find Alatrium? Bluish cast? Could I see that weapon?"
* Berlioz coughs. "You mean, my rapier? Um... well... I... guess", the bard stutters, slowly unsheathing the rapier.
> On seeing the wicken, pain inflicting, catch and hook lined weapon, Sir Farmsturt whistles. "Indeed, that has to be made of it - you see, the records mention that it's an artificial alloy designed to make weapons that are excessively painful and crippling and defensive, wizard compatible armor if you know how to use the metal."
<Shamal> "Oh, if we find some more it might make a nice chain shirt for Seira in that case," Shamal notes with a smile. "The blacksmith was confident in making a good weapon with it, but didn't think it would make armour any better than normal."
> "I'm not sure you could make it properly without the right training or learning..." He frowns as he thinks, "It's mentioned as requiring a skilled hand. Yes, yes, if you find more it's still a noble effort. That's a fine weapon you have there, young man."
<Shamal> "A shame no gnomes are left to explain how... I suppose she'll just have to save up for mithral," the blonde nods smugly.
* Berlioz nods with a sigh, and resheathes the rapier.
> "A shame, a pity, such learning could be superbly useful." Finishing his book flipping, "Well then, hmmm. A shame a true relic wasn't left behind. The rumors of what Irenes was tracking down...heh. Now that was a magnificent thing!"
<Shamal> "What was he tracking down, if I may ask?" Shamal prods.
> "A ring." A nod at that, "A ring like no other. He said it had as much protection as even the greatest protective ring, and greatly enhanced the very spirit of the wearer. It was supposed to be gnomish, but I've never found anything that directly comments on it."
> "Oh yes...of course, he got sidetracked later," Farmsturt taps his chin as he thinks, "Those magic gems, and then going off to search...at least I know he came back well."
<Shamal> "Interesting... did he have any ideas on its whereabouts?" Shamal asks, before blinking, "You know about his interest in gems of imbuing? That's what he stole in Balmuria."
> "Oh?" A crook of his head to the side, "A relic one or one of the new ones beginning to appear?"
<Shamal> "It had a rare spell on it, but I'm unsure of the details," Shamal admits.
> "Hmmm. A rare spell...I'm no wizard, but Irenes was certain someone had rediscovered the secret to creating them." A nod, "Of course...of course, if someone had, he said even a normal person could become magical."
<Lyselle> "Seira knew more...she seemed surprised about its presence here," Lyselle offers, shrugging a bit.
> "Seira?" A look to Lyselle, "Young lady, who is that? Another of your friends?"
<Lyselle> "She goes with us on most things," Lyselle answers, smiling faintly. "She was at the gnomish fortress and the like. A half-elven wizard with some rather dextrous extra interests."
> "My, hm, hm. A half elf, you say? Could I meet her?" His interest picks up even more.
* Lyselle glances at Shamal, giving a slight shrug. "We will propose it to her the next time we meet with her," Lyselle offers, nodding. "I do not know how busy Commander Oberuth intends to keep her."
> "I would appreciate it. A half elf..." He muses, going to another book and wildly flipping it's pages, reading at a fevered pace. "So many interesting things going on. I need to talk to her, I think. Could you come back with her?"
<Shamal> "We can ask her," Shamal shrugs herself, wondering a bit at the interest.
> "Thank you." A nod to the party, "I'll be here, so just bring here when the all of you are ready?"
<Shamal> "Er... okay?" Shamal looks a bit put out at the apparent dismissal, getting to her feet. "Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Farmsturt. It was a most enlightening discussion." She'd honestly hoped to learn more, but now it almost looks like she's one of the foremost authorities on Gnomes and no one can tell her anything new and useful. How odd.
* Lyselle blinks at the seeming sharp turn they took on the subject of elflings with nimble fingers, just nodding and following Shamal to stand. "We'll see what we can do," she agrees.
> "Thank you, thank you," he nods once more, "Until then?"
> The next day the party arrives back at the Farmsturt, well, farm. An older woman lets them in, smiling as the party heads towards the library. On entering, they find Sir Farmsturt there, pouring over books, a few dozen sprawled about the cozy, comfortable room. "Sit down...Seira, is it?" he says, on seeing the half elf enter.
* Seira dips her head in the affirmative.
> "Your friends said you knew something about the spells of imbued magic?" he inquires, "And about the gnomish ruins?"
<Shamal> "Actually, Seira saw a bit less of the ruins than myself and Lyselle. But she can tell you about the gem that Irenes stole, certainly," Shamal chimes in.
<Seira> "One of the spells was of elven origin," she responds, shrugging lightly. "As for my knowledge of the goblin ruins, I do not believe it is better than that of the others."
> "Mmm, elven origin?" A curious look there, pondering. "Elven...you see, near the end of his research, before we parted, Irenes was becoming convinced that an elf was involved in the spell gems reappearing. A unique elven spell being in a such a gem would fit that."
<Seira> "His name was Sandalphon," Seira elaborates, sharing what her research found on the ancient mage.
> "Sandalphon...doesn't ring a bell." Farmsturt goes back to sitting, "Hmm. Can you trace the stolen gem back at all? Perhaps it was stolen from an elf in the city?"
<Seira> "It seemed like it legally belonged to a human merchant," she muses. "I had no cause to doubt him."
> "Hmmm, curious, curious..." Frowning as he pours over another book, "Ah well, for the moment then...all that and return to the original issue. Tell me then, are you still interested in the gnomes at all?"
<Shamal> "Most certainly," Shamal affirms.
> "Well then...you've given me a  good deal of information. Do you have any questions? My studies are far from complete, but I can tell you what I've found thus far." A pause, "The secrets of the gnomes. Lost artifacts, metal alloys, spell gems and even more, all somewhere resting in the ground."
<Shamal> "The best way to learn is by seeing for yourself, so do you know of any ruins that have not been fully explored?" Shamal asks hopefully.
* Berlioz kindly interrupts. "Um... if you're willing to borrow your notes, I'd want to take a look at them. I've started some research on the gnomish matters recently, and anything would help."
<Seira> "Any knowledge you would have on the ruin Balmuria is currently trying to investigate would be appreciated as well, Sir," Seira chimes in.
> "Heh...If I did, I would remedy that state myself, young lady," FArmsturt laughs a little, slapping his knee. "You're welcome to them, young man. As for ruins, the Desert Fiefdoms are not adverse to letting you poke in the one they've found if you ask nicely in diplomatic, gold tinged ways. And..hm? Do you mean THE ruin, Seira?"
<Seira> "Yes, Sir."
> "I don't know much, only rumors. But if you seek an unexplored ruin, that place is as unexplored as they come." He strokes his chin, "I've heard nothing near success regarding it's depths. I'm not sure if it's gnomish or something else, but...I wouldn't be surprised at all if it was."
> "It's underground and seems to be long forgotten by all information. That fits the bill, but perhaps this one's magic is still active?" He shrugs, "In that case, you're walking into a well defended fortress. It's not impossible, but the gnomes were experts with magic."
<Seira> "Are you versed in goblin magic, Sir?"
> "Goblin magic?" A quirk of his head, "Shamanism and the like, dimly so. Why?"
<Seira> "Knowledge is power. Knowing what one faces upon entering the goblin ruins may be key towards preparations, and countering the inherent magic."
> "Goblin ruins? Do you think goblins made that place?" Now Farmsturt stops, blinking long, "As in, little goblins like the ones that live in the Barbarian Lands?"
* Shamal coughs. "Ah... it's gnome ruins, Seira. Goblins live in wooden huts," she corrects gently but just a bit smugly.
<Seira> "Ah, so they are." Seira snaps her fingers. "Shamal, you seem awfully smug lately. Did anything good happen with your houseguest?"
<Shamal> "Since catching hag fever can't be described as good, I'd say no," the blonde replies, nonplussed. "Did the commander have any luck tracking her down, by the way?"
<Seira> "No, but his swimming technique was very professional."
> "Yes, the gnomish ruins..." Farmsturt nods again, "If you go to the new ruins, just be as prepared as you can. As for the rest..hm? Swimming?"
<Shamal> "Sea hag," Shamal replies, shaking her head with a stern expression. "Don't ask."
> "Ah yes...right. Anyway," Putting that aside, "Did you have any other questions?"
<Shamal> "Can you tell us about the kinds of gnomish artifacts you're familiar with?" Shamal asks, hoping for an idea of what they might find besides the things they saw in the last ruin.
> "Yes. Firstly are Alatrium weapons. You'll know them because they look like wicked, barb or hook filled. On a solid hit, they'll do more damage than any other normal weapon and generally cause you a lot of pain. The stronger ones are so good at it that they can even make you fall in mid battle, writhing."
<Shamal> "Without magic?" the blonde queries, wondering just what would be involved in that feat.
> He nods, "Yes. Beyond whatever was used to make the alloy. It's amazing stuff if crafted properly." So he goes on, "Anything can have magic in those ruins  - I suppose it doesn't matter since you won't find anything living, but they did invent those spell gems. Magic will permeate it - take suitable precautions."
* Shamal nods. "Anything else on the subject of artifacts?"
> "Yes, yes." He goes to a book, flipping it open. "Magical defenses - gnomes were fond of a basic fear effect. Very potent if you aren't prepared. Past that...there are said to be great artifacts invovled with the gnomes. I mentioned one of them to you, a magical ring. If what is said about the God King is true, they're probably as powerful or more powerful than anything else in the world."
* Seira frowns thoughtfully. "What about traps, magical and mundane?"
> "Traps? There weren't any mundane - only failing magical ones. Poison gas, summoned guardians, loud alarms. Oh yes, visages of fear - portraits of God King Daa-Vid enchanted to strike fear into any that see it. Texts references other grisly things - fire traps, teleportation loops and collapsing and retracting walls."
<Shamal> "What of the gnomes themselves - do you know anything about their activities before they vanished? Their relations with other races?" Shamal asks, recalling the reference to a war in some of the literature she found in the ruins.
> "Poor. They hated humans and elves. I'm not sure about dwarves, despite both living underground." A light, thinking shrug as he goes on. "The society was militaristic, with God King Daa-Vid leading them. His magical skill was said to be without peer, but most of the sources aren't entirely unbiased." A small, soft snort there. "But yes, yes. He was most powerful, then...they vanished. If what you said is true, then the Gods were the reason why. The God King Daa-vid...did he do something so horrible? From magical mastery and creations, to the world of today." (More)
> then the Gods were the reason why. The God King Daa-vid...did he do something so horrible? From magical mastery and creations, to the world of today." (More)
> Farmsturt stands, pacing. "Yes...yes. It does explain a few things, and why..." Meandering to himself, "By Helm...heh. Perhaps it's the will of the Gods - you said you were blessed by Helm?"
* Shamal nods, smiling a little. "The Vigilant One approves of our devotion to our duty," she affirms. "I do worry what would have happened to us without that blessing, though. The being we encountered did not seem friendly at all when we first encountered it."
> "He has never forgotten his duty, even to the half forsaken children of our world. In old texts, the blessings of the Gods were far more common. Such rage, such wrath..." So he considers and goes on, pacing back and forth. "One text mentioned an artifact, a great magical rod that could resurrect the dead...but now, rare is the one the Gods permit to come back. I do wonder..."
<Lyselle> "The sensation of the creature's 'testing' wasn't particularly encouraging at first," Lyselle agrees, shrugging and frowning. "The prison records point to a war in general, though not JUST with the gods. And moreso, didn't the golem say something about collecting the Resorts to 'take his rightful place'?"
<Shamal> "Perhaps the disappearance of the Gnomes and the withdrawal of the Gods are related?" Shamal posits, following on from his thought.
<Seira> "It did," Seira agrees with a nod at Lyselle. "Do you believe it would happen if mortals collected them as well, as long as they were all brought together?"
> "Yes, a war. As I said, humands, elves and gnomes did not get along. There is a reference to the 'Campaign of the Heavens' in a few late texts. Of the God King Daa-vid's march to his throne."
> "Golems..." Pondering further, "Servants to gnomes, creatures of pure magic into matter. They are fearsome guardians - where one is, something great lies, yes." He nods on that thought, "Those Resorts - what of them?"
<Shamal> "They're supposedly powerful weapons, but who knows if they're legend or not?" Shamal says quickly, not wanting a colleague of Irenes, former or otherwise, to know too much about them, or especially the fact that someone in Balmuria has one.
> "Mmmm. Powerful weapons - one of the text makes very oblique references to the vestiments of the God King. I had not thought much of it, as there are many stories of gnomish artifacts." Pondering even more..."Perhaps you will want to see this passage." He goes to the top shelf, removing books and taking out a small scroll from the rear. "It was my best find."
* Shamal leans over to take a look.
* Seira is interested in the book as well.
* Lyselle leans in, if not quite as much. Who knows if she could even read it?
> It's unrolled, put down on the table. There is foreign writing painstakingly copied, with translation in Common below each line. "Be warned, the translation is slightly literal." With that, the scroll is read. "The Heavenquake. Vestiments together, when the final bell will toll on the plate. Our God-King shall rise and reclaim his rightful place in Creation! Sit long on the throne, oh God King!"
* Seira takes a look at the foreign writing, trying to determine whether it's one she knows, or at least had encountered before.
> Seira can tell that it looks like the gnomish she has seen before.
<Seira> "So some survived their God-King's fall," she muses. "At least, for a while."
> "Perhaps, perhaps not," Farmsturt murmurs, "You see...you see, this is a very old document, but in the late period. It could be before it or after, but if gnomes survive, they do not wish to be seen by others."
<Seira> "It is easy to imagine why," she agrees.
> "THough..all things consideres, yes, yes, that makes too much sense," Farmsturt agrees a few moments later, "Very. Then, if you are blessed by Helm...I came to become a worshipper of the Great Watcher a long time ago. I had not thought this story would ever matter to this hobby of mine, but perhaps it does now." He bows his head and considers, "Shamal, I may be able to grant your request after all."
<Shamal> "Hmm... is it implying that Daa-Vid had a contingency in place to ensure his ressurection, perhaps?" Shamal wonders, before perking up. "Oh? What do you mean?"
> "AT the ends of the United Baronies, there are a few small, old churches in the mountains. It was the county of...Pilltain, was it? A Temple of Helm is built there - a strange place, as they do not often see visitors. I chanced on after a long, hard trip in the winter..." (More)
> "Being stuck in a snowstorm, I obtained shelter there. When I slept, I dreamed. In my dreams, I saw myself exploring an old ruin as I had before, but under the floor, I could see that an ancient magical trap was stirring. My foot was about to step down and trigger it, unaware - but at the last moment I paused, suddenly thirsty. I stepped back and drank water, then walked right past it. I had done that 2 years before I came to that temple." (More)
> "I woke up in a cold sweat, remembering...Just...I joined the priests in prayer that morning, and it felt right. I talked to the headmaster of the temple, who was certain Helm had saved me - and that just felt -right-, too. He said that the Watcher protects those who always remember their duty."
<Seira> "A most remarkable tale of survival," Seira comments.
<Shamal> "Perhaps the Gods are more subtle, but no less present in this age?" Shamal murmurs softly. "You think there is more undiscovered in that particular ruin?" she then asks, focusing on the details.
<Lyselle> "How long ago was this?" Lyselle asks, raising her eyebrows at Farmsturt and humming a little.
> "It is. I've always believed that Helm protected me - for some duty, perhaps? I don't entirely know." With this, the older man merely goes on, thinking. "I am not sure about more there, but let me finish my tai-hm? IN my youth. I believe there was a war drumming up, which is why I made haste and was caught in the snowstorm. Apparently that's not uncommon there, or was back then."
<Shamal> "Oh," Shamal nods, chastened. "Please, by all means continue," she gestures for him to go on.
* Lyselle nods, frowning faintly.
> "Hmmm." Farmsturt pauses, stroking his chin thoughtfully, back and forth. "Hmmm. I left a few days later when the snowstorm finished. The headmaster casually mentioned that this temple was very...special place for worshippers of Helm to go, or those that were protected by him."
<Shamal> "What was special about it?" the blonde asks.
> "When I asked him that, he smiled and said, 'The Watcher hasn't forgotten his duty. You'll remember those words to someone, one day. Be well, traveler, and may Helm watch you as he watches here.'
<Seira> "Can you tell us how to find this temple?"
<Lyselle> "If it's still standing," Lyselle adds quietly, still frowning and shrugging a little. "That whole area was a complete mess ten years ago or so...hard to know how much it's improved."
<Seira> "If Helm was truly looking after his worshippers, there is a good chance of that," Seira comments.
> "If you like," He begins, "Pilltain - or what it was, I recall hearing that it was absorbed by another county, thinking on it - It's northwest, past the plains and on the rugged mountains on the rainward side. If you go over them, you'll go right into nasty desert."
> "...Oh yes, you know about that?" Farmsturt asks Lyselle, "I...I suppose so then."
<Shamal> "I think it might be worth looking into anyway," Shamal speaks up. "The Gods do not act without deliberation in this age."
<Lyselle> Lyselle's answering expression is a touch stormy, shrugging and sitting up. "Pilltain was at one point my inheritance. My father conquered it in a blood feud," she answers quietly, just shrugging. "It was divided up later on, there's probably a half-dozen counties with parts of Pilltain within their borders."
> As Berlioz nods thoughtfully in the background, Farmsturt smiles. "I wish you all the luck in the world and heavens if yo-oh. Well. I suppose I see now." Coughing and clearing his throat, "That explains much. Which county was your father ruling?"
<Shamal> "Oh..." Shamal's expression falls, wringing her hands a bit as she seems quite unsure how to respond to Lyselle's revelation.
* Seira adopts a carefully neutral expression herself.
<Lyselle> "Armasea," Lyelle nods, hands carefully clasped in her lap, managing to settle a little of her conflicting and shifting feelings. "I'm still its Countess, if in name only for the moment."
> "I see. Young lady, if Helm watches over you, I am sure your conflict over it will come to an end. But..." A breath out, "Are you going to continue to explore gnomish ruins and the like?"
<Shamal> "Ah... I believe so," Shamal hazards with one last uncertain look at Lyselle. "There's so much to be found in them, after all..."
* Lyselle returns a confused expression to Shamal, most of the darkness passed from her expression. "Mhm...they'd definitely be a good thing to continue with."
> "I hadn't mentioned it because it's the biggest fruit of my labors, but..." Smiling now, openly, "Well, well. I always wondered if I'd ever offer anyone lessons on how to read gnomish."
<Shamal> "I might be interested in learning, actually," Shamal agrees, always looking to add useful languages to her reportoire.
* Lyselle nods, smiling a bit more in return, tapping the hilt of her sword. "Reading is a good pass time...being able to read things you locate in strange ruins is usually more interesting."
> "If you like. When you have some time I'll be glad to teach you," Farmsturt smiles once, "When you wish."
> So the party piles back to Balmuria. A quiet tavern is the place, restful after the long talk and discussion therein...

[Anastasia]

<Shamal> "Lyselle," Shamal begins gently as she gets the drinks in, "You've never really talked about Armasea... what happened, there?"
> Berlioz hangs back, bringing the drinks over and sitting down. He still seems distracted, not there, but he at least works on some wine.
<Lyselle> "War, war, and more war," Lyselle answers a little glumly, taking a somewhat longer drink of her wine and frowning. "I wasn't very old when it all started, and they kept me in the castle all the time," she shrugs, glancing between her female friends and Berlioz. "Mom died in an ambush, dad lived long enough to burn Pilltain to the ground for it," she answers quietly, taking another long swallow of intoxication.
<Seira> "Didn't you say it was part of your inheritance?" Seira asks her, nursing a drink herself.
<Lyselle> "For a while," Lyselle nods, leaning into the table and staring at the drink glumly. "I wasn't old enough to inherit when father died besieging Pilltain Castle, so my uncle took over...we didn't really have enough troops to hold it, though, and politics was a pretty cutthroat and bloody affair in that barony back then, so my Uncle parceled off pieces of Pilltain for safety from the other Counties." (More)
<Lyselle> "We kept a few of the villages that'd been closer to our border - there hadn't been fighting there. It was still looking like there might be another border war, but...then the war with Malmuth came up, Uncle left with most of the troops, and most of our enemies went with them. Never came back," Lyselle expands, pausing to frown. "Not enough soldiers, not enough money, and I was barely into my majority."
<Shamal> Shamal nods slowly, digesting the tale as she takes occassional sips of her own drink. "Do you ever think about returning? You said 'for the moment' when talking about being its countess in name only."
<Lyselle> "Oh, that's my goal," Lyselle laughs, shrugging and taking another sip of her drink. "And why I'm interested in these ruins...find enough money to gather retainers, repay the Baron who's holding the place 'in trust' for now, and settle back into my home," she nods, smiling faintly. "And pray that anyone I knew is still there."
> Berlioz thoughtfully nods at all this, but keeps his peace.
* Seira frowns. "You don't think this baron would relinquish his hold over your land willingly?"
<Lyselle> "I think he would, if I payed him back for the 'burden'," Lyselle snorts, shrugging. "If he doesn't, that makes things a little more complicated, but won't necessarily stop me from trying."
<Shamal> "Hmm..." Shamal looks somewhat thoughtful for a long moment before she carefully speaks up, "You know, I believe Frozen Oath would command an immensely high market price, were you ever to sell it," she observes, leaving Lyselle to draw her own conclusions there. Pride and joy of her art the sword may be, she did make it more by luck than anything, and this is Lyselle's life after all.
<Lyselle> "From a practical point of view, I need the sword more than I need the money," Lyselle admits, shrugging. "Even...ten thousand wouldn't really save me if all it bought were simple mercenaries," Lyselle admits, shrugging. "Prestige, contacts, and resources are all just as important as the gold itself, and buying those is frighteningly expensive if you try...easier to work through the Crimson Guard for it."
<Seira> "If this baron of yours ever needs a bit of... convincing to let go, just say the word," Seira offers sincerely. "If the facts of the matter were presented to him effectively, I am confident this inheritence would be yours once more."
<Shamal> "I'm somewhat relieved to hear that," the blonde admits herself, smiling openly. "I think you can put it to better use than any other, as far as I'm concerned."
* Lyselle frowns suddenly, shivering a bit. "If he does though..." she murmurs darkly, staring into the burgundy color of her wine. "He'll probably be frozen dog meat when I finish with him..." she hisses, intently staring into that dark, liquid red.
<Seira> "Here's to justice prevailing, then," Seira comments, raising her glass.
* Shamal reaches over to pat Lyselle's shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sure it won't come anything so bloody if you're prestigous and persuasive enough, when the time comes."
> Berlioz smiles and raises his glass as well.
* Lyselle raises her glass, glaring darkly into the wine as she drains it, still glaring at the faint carresses of red left on the interior, like blood flowing down stones.
<Shamal> "Ah, of course, it goes without saying that we'll all help out if it does come to that, right everyone?" Shamal smiles encouragingly at Seira and Berlioz as Lyselle glares murderously at the innocent drink.
* Lyselle shakes her head, trying to focus away from that, turning to look at Shamal, then Seira, and even Berlioz. How could she...? There was no reason to! "I feel...odd..." she growls, unable to keep the manifestation from her voice.
<Seira> "I already offered to help," Seira affirms with a nod at Shamal.
<Shamal> "How do you mean 'odd'?" Shamal asks worriedly. They haven't drunk that much, yet!
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+@
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+@ and gets Error: Numeric values only." [1d20=6]
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+2 and gets 7." [1d20=5]
<Lyselle> "Like something's creeping into me..." Lyselle hisses, shaking a little. "Really...angry..."
* Seira blinks, and when her eyes clear, they see beyond the mundane. She takes a look around, first focusing on Lyselle herself.
<Shamal> "Okay, I ignored Quapeth acting weird a few days ago and he came home with Hag Fever. I don't think I'll ignore this," Shamal states flatly, setting her drink down and casting Detect Magic.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+13 and gets 22." [1d20=9]
<Seira> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+7 and gets 12." [1d20=5]
* Lyselle hisses sharply, struggling with it and unclasping her sword from her belt, shoving it and its sheath away sharply in desperation to not enable herself.
* Seira frowns, and looks around.
<Shamal> "By Mielikki's bosom!" Shamal gasps, reaching over to take the sword Lyselle thrusts away and keep it away from the poor woman. "Lyselle, there's a powerful evil aura around you... I can't tell the magic, but I've never known anything so evil in my experience!"
<Seira> "I see it too," Seira comments, her eyes flickering towards the outside. "Wait here and watch Lyselle, I'll go check it out. We can stay in touch with Message."
* Seira connects herself to Shamal via the spell, and heads outside towards the source of the other magical aura, bow in hand.
<Lyselle> "Rope? I forgot mine," Lyselle asks, her voice hovering somewhere between an angry snarl and a whimper, her hands shaking as she grips the table as hard as she can, her jaw tense as she just tries to hold onto her sanity.
<Shamal> "Be strong," Shamal encourages, handing the sword over to Berlioz before she fumbles in her bag below the table to withdraw some rope which she begins to inelegantly tie Lyselle's wrists together with, hoping no one in the bar gets the wrong idea.
> As Seira steps out, detect magic pays off. The air twenty feet up is slightly distorted, like the air on a hot summer's day. It's a strange twisting, very faint.
> Meanwhile, the bar patrons are starting to stare at the strange party. Event he barkeep is starting to look on in incredulos wonder.
<Seira> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+7 and gets 24." [1d20=17]
<Seira> There is a chance all this magical anger is personified, perhaps into that totem-like item she shot back at the goblin village. Then, there's a chance an arrow would have the same effect here as well, and two are better than one!
<Seira> roll 1d20+7 a1
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+7 a1 and gets 26." [1d20=19]
<Seira> roll 1d20+7 a2
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+7 a2 and gets 14." [1d20=7]
> OOC - Your bow is magical now, yes
> OOC - Y es?
<Seira> OOC: Yes
> OOC - Roll damage on the first hit.
<Seira> roll 1d8+1+2d6
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d8+1+2d6 and gets 7." [1d8=1][2d6=2, 3]
> The air flexes like a distorted muscle as the first arrow flies through! Near the end it just stops, falling back to the ground! However, the twisting in the air moves away, in seconds gone! But as it does, a roar fills the street, loud and sending people to holding their heads!
* Seira crouches to one knee, looking around for magical auras just in case, bow at the ready.
> There's fading magic towards the north, the way the strange force fled.
<Seira> "There was something evil outside. I shot it," Seira says succinctly. "How is Lyselle?"
* Lyselle suddenly relaxes, closing her eyes and shivering a little. "It's not there anymore," she nods to Seira, slumped back against her chair, and strugglign a bit with the ropes. "...Can we get these off now? The looks are a little disconcerting..."
<Shamal> "Ah... yes, quite," Shamal blushes, untying Lyselle and sheepishly putting the ropes away. "Who knows what the neighbours might say, eh?" she jokes half-heartedly, before trying to adopt a serious demeanour. "Anyway, what *was* that?"
<Seira> "I think it only retreated. I suggest we follow it, tracking with our magical sight."
<Shamal> "Right you are, Seira," Shamal nods, picking up her pack and rising to her feet. "Let's go!" she declares, eager enough to be on her way.
* Seira leads the way towards the north, following its original direction and glancing at people occasionally to see where they have been spooked.
> So out into the afternoon the party goes! It's still daylight as they head out, magical sights activated! Both Shamal and Seira have another minute or so on Detect Magic, heading down the northern street. People are confused here, many looking to you. "G-guards? Did you hear that?" They ask of you.
* Lyselle doesn't bother answering Shamal, nodding and taking her sword back from Berlioz as they head along with Seira.
> Berlioz runs along - the trail seems to go north and starting to crook northeast. You're hot on it, the aura fading as you chase it.
* Seira nods at the citizens as she runs on, head swiveling ever so slightly left, then right.
> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 and gets 15." [1d20=14]
* Shamal picks up the pace as she jogs along, wishing she had more specifically 'anti-evil' magic, but resolved to make do.
> As you runa long, you come down the street. Amid horses you can hear another scream, loud and deafening! The faint magic is getting closer - you're making better time than it overall, one could speculate.
* Lyselle keeps as much of an eye out as she can without an ability to see magic. That gem was looking more tempting these days.
> OOC - Spot check, Lyselle.
<Seira> "I have a scroll of protection from evil," Seira informs the others. "It would not last long, but should it be our only resort...." She leaves the rest unsaid.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 and gets 15." [1d20=14]
> Berlioz heads along as well, making a dashing figure as he goes along, monocles glinting!
<Lyselle> "It's over there!" Lyselle points to the roof of a moneylender's, pointing it out to Seira and taking out her own longbow, drawing and firing on it.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+7 and gets 19." [1d20=12]
<Seira> Seira's head swerves in the direction, the bow along with it.
> OOC - Since Lyselle spotted it, yes, let's do a round of initiative.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+2 and gets 16." [1d20=14]
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+2
<Seira> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+2 and gets 5." [1d20=3]
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 and gets 13." [1d20=9]
> As you run along, the group of horse riders wince, "What in the name of His Majesty," one of the riders says, garbed in blue and gray Malmuthian clothes.
> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 and gets 7." [1d20=7]
> roll 1d20+1 Berli
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 Berli and gets 6." [1d20=5]
* Shamal skids to a halt and looks up to follow Lyselle's pointing, casting a quick spell! "Wise nocturnal hunter of Celestia, heed my call! Evil requires your attention!" she incants, as a tiny owl with metallic golden feathers appears in a flash of light, diving down at the evil distortion with a screech, intent on smiting the evil!
> "What is it," A passing peasant calls, "Guaaaards?" they look right at you, "It's...it's THOSE guards, the undead slaying ones?"
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 27." [1d20=20]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7 confirm lol
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 confirm lol and gets 10." [1d20=3]
<Shamal> roll 2d4
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 2d4 and gets 4." [2d4=3, 1]
> A small metallic owls appears from the Higher Planes, diving down at the energy above! A flash of light occurs as it's small claws rip into it, holy power devastating impure evil! OOC - Seira.
<Seira> It had worked twice so far, and she likes shooting things with her bow to begin with. This time, however, Seira decides to try the magical property of her bow.
<Seira> roll 1d20+4 a1
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 a1 and gets 15." [1d20=11]
<Seira> roll 1d20+4 a2
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 a2 and gets 7." [1d20=3]
> But Seira's arrows miss, the first narrowly going above it and the second just way too wide! On that, the mass of energy flees over the building, hastily trying to escape! OOC - It's fleeing over the roof. Berli and Lyselle will still have it in visual range this round, but it's moving away and out of sight quickly.
> Berlioz calmly draws his bow, narrowing his eyes and firing!
> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+5 and gets 9." [1d20=4]
<Lyselle> Lyselle's large composite bow is out, an arrow knocked and then released with a powerful whistle of its yard long arrow flying through the sky.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+7 and gets 11." [1d20=4]
> But his arrow just tinks off the side of the building, down into the alley around it!
> Lyselle also does a bad performace, missing altogether! It's out of sight, behind the building now! OOC - Shamal, the owl can pursue and attack if it likes.
<Shamal> The owl flutters off after the evil sin against nature, hooting balefully and clawing once more before it vanishes back to whence it came! Shamal meanwhile sprints along the alley around the building so she can keep the thing in sight herself.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 27." [1d20=20]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7 threat lol
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 threat lol and gets 17." [1d20=10]
> OOC - Crit.
<Shamal> roll 2d4-2
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 2d4-2 and gets 1." [2d4=2, 1]
> The blessed claws of the owls rake at the fleeing miasma of darkness, causing it to twist and writhe as it tries to move! Meanwhile Shamal runs along to the other side of the building, seeing another long road going east and west. To the north is another line of businesses, the energy in the air and looking to keep going, fleeing!
* Lyselle follows Shamal at a quick pace, after this darned anger inducing hate thing!
* Seira sprints after Shamal, her eyes seeking out the owl and the magical aura!
> OOC - Shamal, you used a move action. You can finish your turn if you like.
> OOC - Shamal, you used a move action. You can finish your turn if you like.
* Shamal claps her hands together, her hair seeming to float around her face as a breeze seems to spring up around her. "I now send my call to the vast plane of elemental air! Mielliki send forth a guardian to heed your faithful servant!" To her words, a barely discernable whirlwind not much bigger than the distortion springs into being above the witch!
<Shamal> "Grab that thing!" she calls in the unearthly cadance of Auran as the summoned air elemental soars upwards to enfold the distortion and bring it down to ground!
<Shamal> "Grab that thing!" she calls in the unearthly cadance of Auran as the summoned air elemental soars upwards to enfold the distortion and bring it down to ground!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7 charging touch attack to start grapple
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 charging touch attack to start grapple and gets 24." [1d20=17]
<Shamal> roll 1d20-1 grapple check, lol
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20-1 grapple check, lol and gets 2." [1d20=3]
> roll 1d20-2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20-2 and gets 11." [1d20=13]
> The winds howls and scream, the air elemental trying to bring the energy down, but it fails! OOC - Seira.
* Seira takes careful aim of the swirling evil, hoping this one shot would not go to waste.
<Seira> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+6 and gets 10." [1d20=4]
> With a good shot, Seira flat misses. It's a good shot, hitting the taxidermist's abode  behind the strange power of rage! So being pursued, it flows down into that shop, through an open door!
> Berlioz gives pursuit, pushing up his monocle with one hand. "Oh great poets of old, stories of bravery," he begins, telling a potent tale of courage!
<Lyselle> Lyselle takes that last instant of sight to aim her bow, drawing the string back and unleashing hopefully destructive steel and wood death~.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+7 and gets 13." [1d20=6]
> Plunk! It lands in the doorframe proper, arrow making the wooden door's slats flex back! But it's a miss! OOC - Shamal.
<Shamal> Shamal's air elemental follows the thing inside, still trying to carry out its commands, while Shamal follows into the shop to see the situation before she acts further.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 touch attack to try and grapple it
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 touch attack to try and grapple it and gets 13." [1d20=8]
> OOC - Touch hit.
<Shamal> roll 1d20-1 grapple for hilarity
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20-1 grapple for hilarity and gets 0." [1d20=1]
> roll 1d20-2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20-2 and gets 10." [1d20=12]
<Seira> As soon as she's reached the doorway to the store, Seira takes a quick glance around for any civillians.
> Winds whip the inside of the place - there are animal heads mounted on the wall, deers, bears, boars, cows and the like. But it can't manage to grapple with the mysterious force! As you watch it go, you can hear, "Calm down! Guards are coming!" Commander Oberuth's voice carries from down the street. OOC - It's Shamal's normal action now, Seira. Lemme deal with you on you rown turn.
* Shamal sighs. "Never mind, elemental... at least it's on the ground, now," she notes, casting another spell of summoning before a black bear into the shop, which roars and promptly tears into the thing!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 24." [1d20=16]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 10." [1d20=2]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 and gets 12." [1d20=9]
<Shamal> roll 1d4+6
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d4+6 and gets 10." [1d4=4]
> The black bear's fearsome claw comes crashing down! In the shop are also a few full animals stuffed and on display - a cow, a dog, a cat and a boar! They look on mutely as the bear's claw passes through the image! It makes it shimmer a moment, shifting. It lets loose a lighter howl, more of a soft baying. OOC - Seira.
<Seira> As soon as she's reached the doorway to the store, Seira takes a quick glance around for any civillians!
> There's two people inside. A man wearing a brown tunic and with a bow slung over his shoulder, talking to a middle aged, plump man with a gray mustache and balding hair. They're doing the obvious - staring in mild shock.
<Seira> "This is the Guard!" she announces, ducking inside. "Stay down and head for cover!" Having taken care of that, she loosens another arrow at the magical aura.
<Seira> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+6 and gets 20." [1d20=14]
> OOC - Hit.
<Seira> roll 1d8+2
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d8+2 and gets 5." [1d8=3]
> This arrow flies true, shot well! The scream of rage echos throughout on this hit, a faint, familiar feeling of rage stirring in everyone! A faint memory of a destroyed village, a towering bear, roaring battle and seeing red! Meanwhile, the energy is floating around, before flowing into the nearest thing - the stuffed boar! As if it was alive, it begins to move, an angry snort coming from it!
> Berlioz continues to sing and talk, filling his allies with courage! OOC - Lyselle.
<Lyselle> Lyselle rushes past Seira, her composite bow dropped and sword drawn as she comes into melee with the posessed image of the boar. Glad that she HAS money, since this will probably involve reparrations, Lyselle slashes viciously into the posessed figure!
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+11
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+11 and gets 31." [1d20=20]
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+12 crit confirm *I forgot Bard*
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+12 crit confirm *I forgot Bard* and gets 28." [1d20=16]
> OOC - Mmm. This is pretty much a construct. Mmm, it's animated, so I'll allow the crit.
<Lyselle> roll 2d8+12+1d2
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 2d8+12+1d2 and gets 22." [2d8=7, 1][1d2=2]
> With one mighty downward cleave, the boar is nearly cut in two! The energy is where the boar was, as it's split sides fall away! Ice lines where the cut is, the air turning colder as Frozen Oath strikes! OOc - Shamal.
<Shamal> "Oh, I think only magic can hurt it... but I don't have any actual magic attacks..." Shamal frets, feeling rather useless even as her bear and elemental launch their futile attacks on the energy.
> The stunned patron and owner do just what they were told to do - they go to the ground, diving down and for cover! Meanwhile, you can hear yelling and chaos outside!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 elemental
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 elemental and gets 11." [1d20=6]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8 bear
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 bear and gets 14." [1d20=6]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8 bear
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 bear and gets 21." [1d20=13]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3 bear
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 bear and gets 8." [1d20=5]
> The bear's second claw swipe passes through the energy, but all that happens it making it ripple! Meanwhile, you hear, "What's going on?" Commander Oberuth comes to the door, blade out. OOC - Seira.
<Seira> "A magical, mind-controlling aura of evil, Sir," Seira responds without turning away, firing twice at it.
<Seira> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 and gets 19." [1d20=15]
<Seira> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 and gets 19." [1d20=15]
<Seira> roll 2d8+4
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 2d8+4 and gets 14." [2d8=8, 2]
> "...another one?" Commander Oberuth says evenly, "Magic must swarm towards those that can use it!"
> The twin arrows rip into it, both passing smoothly through the dead center of the energy! The howl makes the walls shake, rage seeping into each of you, the magic aura expanding, diluting out but growing all around you!
> OOC - Lyselle's in melee. Will save.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 and gets 14." [1d20=13]
> Berlioz keeps his spell up! OOC - Lyselle, declare your action or whatever you're doing/reacting, but don't roll anything yet.
<Lyselle> That stupid THING keeps getting in her way, it keeps attacking them and making their lives UTTERLY MISERABLE. Her towering rage sends her at the floating object, trying to lash into it with her magical sword and send that annoying shitty magic to its grave!
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+13 and gets 29." [1d20=16]
> OOC - Hit.
<Lyselle> roll 1d8+8+1d2
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d8+8+1d2 and gets 12." [1d8=3][1d2=1]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 52." [1d100=52]
> roll 1d4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d4 and gets 4." [1d4=4]
> OOc - Will save, Lyselle. Since you're berserk already you gain a -2 circumstancial bonus.
> OOC - Penalty, rather.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20-1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20-1 and gets 11." [1d20=12]
> WIth a flash, Frozen Oath slices through the energy! With a rippling wink, it spreads out and disspated, but lots of the energy goes towards Lyselle, almost sucking into her!
<Lyselle> Lyselle lets out a maddened, psychotic scream of unthinking fury and ahte, looking around for her next victim~.
> OOC - Free action.
* Seira squints her eyes at Lyselle and the aura of magic around her.
<Shamal> "Ahh, Lyselle, are you okay?" Shamal asks, not seeming at all reassured after that scream. The bear just lumbers past Lyselle towards Shamal before the spell ends, leaving itself open by walking around her.
> "Lyselle?" Commander Oberuth inquires, stepping inside, "Report. What...?"
* Seira lowers her bow, hodling her palm towards Lyselee. "Stay back!" she warns the others, before her eyes lock with Lyselle's, flashing.
<Lyselle> Lyselle snarls viciously, turning on the bear, the symbol of her hate, and lashes out with a snarling and hate filled string fo curses!
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+16
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+16 and gets 30." [1d20=14]
> OOC - We both know that's a hit. Ow.
<Lyselle> roll 1d8+1d8+9+1d2
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d8+1d8+9+1d2 and gets 22." [1d8=4][1d8=7][1d2=2]
<Lyselle> roll 1d8+9+1d2
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d8+9+1d2 and gets 17." [1d8=7][1d2=1]
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1 will save
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 will save and gets 16." [1d20=15]
<Lyselle> *gets 14
> With one epic slash, the bear's hear is removed from it's shoulders! It shimmers and vanishes, summoning spent!
<Seira> "You are victorious," Seira tells Lyselle calmly, slowly placing her bow on the ground and backing away a step. "And among friends."
<Shamal> "Mr bear!" Shamal shrieks in horror, not having seen that coming.
<Lyselle> And her sword sort of slumps at the end of that bloody arc, staring at Seira and smiling. "Kill..." she growls, still staring at Seira.
<Lyselle> And still smiling, we mustn't forget her happy, even friendly smile of wonder as she murmurs towards the half-elf.
<Seira> "Your enemy is dead, slain by your hand," Seira assures Lyselle honestly, before repeating, "We are all your friends."
> "Lyselle, it's over. Put your sword down and report," Commander Oberuth approaches as well, calm. "Breath deeply," he says, but you notice his legs are tensed, posture ready.
<Shamal> "I'm not sure she can hear you, Seira..." Shamal murmurs, somewhat glad she didn't bring Laika along. If that had been her in the bear's place... The blonde witch tenses alongside her commander, preparing a spell if the need arises.
<Seira> roll 1d20+12
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+12 and gets 30." [1d20=18]
<Seira> "Lyselle can hear me," Seira insists, not breaking eye contact with her. "She must remember our promise of help to her. The timing of it was merely relegated to the here and now."
<Lyselle> "Kill..." Lyselle nods along, smiling blissfully in a dreamy, bloody sort of way. "It whispered to me, we can all kill together," she agrees cheerfully, smiling, almost bouncing. "We can kill lots!" she nods, some part of her insisting on the happy side of things, trying to hold off the rage and bloodlust in favor of this more enjoyable mood, tring and struggling to focus on Seira.
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 and gets 21." [1d20=20]
<Lyselle> OOC - Er...-2, yah, blah. Reflex.
<Seira> "You don't need your sword for that," Seira suggests. "It heals, does it not? How would that help?"
* Shamal keeps quiet and leaves this to Seira, still tense in case words fail.
> "Sit down," Oberuth instructs, sternly staring Lyselle down.
> Meanwhile, you see the two poor, normal citizens in the shop peek up in horror, making little faces of shock.
<Lyselle> Lyselle pauses, blinking several times and dropping her sword, staring hard at Seira. "...oh..." she mumbles, slumping down and just staring off into space. "That was...that is...close..." she mumbles, looking down at her hands.
> Commander Oberuth approaches, kicking Lyselle's sword away. "What in the Abyss's name was it?"
* Seira makes a waving motion at them to stay hidden for the moment, observing Lyselle with her sight.
<Seira> "Lyselle," she speaks, her suspicions confirmed. "You are under a spell. I am going to remove it."
<Lyselle> "Some...I don't know..." Lyselle mutters, taking deep, shaking breaths. "Some kind of...it wanted to...it wanted us to kill things...it posessed the half-orc and bear, I think..." she murmurs slowly, taking deep breaths again.
* Seira closes her eyes for a long moment, before reopening them. "Do you feel yourself now?"
<Lyselle> "The...urge was already fading," Lyselle nods, shivering and pushing away the rest of those bloody thoughts and impulses. "Um...just...yes."
<Seira> "You will be alright," Seira assures her, collecting her bow and approaching. On her way there, she looks around for a sign of any totems.
<Shamal> "It's like that thing from... when Rin died," Shamal murmurs softly. "How did it come here?"
<Seira> "We should discuss that at a different setting," Seira proposes, with a meaningful nod in the direction of the civillians.
> Seira sees a lot of animals and the like - mostly stuffed. Nothing quite like a totem. "Good. Breath deeply...so we don't have to restrain you," Commander Oberuth goes now, taking Lyselle's sword up. "Berlioz, get guards and deal with this," he instructs.
> Berlioz nods blankly.
<Lyselle> "Followed us, probably," Lyselle answers Shamal, frowning. "It was the same thing...I could see that bear...which is why attacking your bea-ohgodsI'msorry," Lyselle rushes out, staring in horror at Shamal.
* Seira takes the moment to do a more thorough search.
<Shamal> "It's... it's alright, Lyselle," Shamal replies, shaking her head. "That bear has returned from where I summoned it, with no harm done." She smiles crookedly, "It's such a nice, guilt-free spell, that one."
> There's a lot of dead, stuffed animals here. Notably, you find a goblin's head, stuffed, in the rear. There are a few carvings of animals well in the back as well - decorations, a bear, a panther, a cow.
* Seira estimates the damage to the shop, cataloguing it mentally.
> OOC - Do you have apprasial, Seira?
<Seira> OOC: No, but I can approximate, can't I? A general area is fine.
<Lyselle> "I think it's gone," Lyselle nods, smiling weakly at Shamal and clambering up to her feet. "It just all kind of...rushed me, and then Seira was...it's all really hard to explain,  because it makes no sense at all, but the feeling sort of disappeared."
<Seira> "I naturally inspire deep feelings of friendship and trust," Seira quips. "Shamal, do you think you could fix any of this poor merchant's wares? I'm afraid I did not memorize the appropriate spell today."
<Shamal> "Do you think it's really gone, now? Or will it come back again?" Shamal asks worriedly. "Um... yes," she nods to Seira, looking around for anything that could be repaired by her magic and proceeding to do so.
> The boar's rather split in half.
* Seira approaches the owner of the shop, then, and holds out a golden piece. "For the damages and the inconvenience," she tells him.
<Lyselle> "There should be a spell around me if it will, shouldn't there?" Lyselle notes, biting her lip. "It seemed like I killed it that last time..."

[Anastasia]

<Seira> "You are safe now, Lyselle," Seira tells her. "I confirmed its disappearance."
> "Uh...uh...thank you..." He licks his lips and takes it, "Uh..."
> Commanber Oberuth nods, "Let's go," he shakes his head, "This is going to be a good report, I can just tell."
<Shamal> "Um... yes, this is too big for me to mend," Shamal apologises, leaving the boar alone. "Such trophies are painfully gauche, anyway..." she adds under her breath with a wince. Poor boar...
> So the party returns the the garrison. It's evening now, a few mugs of and food delivered on the Commander's request. He sits down, rubbing his brow. "Alright. So there was this mysterious force that did damage and turned Lyselle into a berserker. Sit down, at ease and tell me what the hell is going on. Again."
<Seira> "We were off duty when Lyselle felt a magical effect attempt to take hold of her," Seira reports. "Shamal and I confirmed its presence, and then I went after it to eliminate it. Once it left Lyselle alone, we pursued. She got hit with it again near the end, as it expired."
> "So, that begs the question," Commander Oberuth ponders, "Why?"
<Seira> "It could have followed us from our excursion into the forest," Seira theorizes.
* Lyselle takes a deep breath, folding her hands and nodding, keeping them clasped and focusing on happy things. She was hungry, dinner was nice. "It...wanted to kill. I could see the half-orc and the dire bear we killed on our adventure into the wilds...we'd berefited it of those, so it wanted us as replacements," she states clearly, sighing softly. "I could hear its voice when it rushed me at the last moment...that's what it wanted."
<Seira> "It was out of luck, then," Seira says with a light tugging of her shoulders.
<Shamal> "Did it follow us through that bone thing you found after dispersing it in the forest? Do any of you still have it?" Shamal asks, not having actually stuck around to find said item herself and only knowing of it from talking to the others as they sold things off back in Balmuria afterwards.
> "Good," Oberuth smiles ever so momentarily at that, "It goes without saying, but if this bone...thing is related, dispose of it."
<Lyselle> "I didn't keep the bone with me," Lyselle shakes her head, smothering a frown, focusing again on being in nice company. "I can still feel a few twinges now...like a broken bone after its healed or achey joints," she offers. "I'm trying to focus on nice things."
<Seira> "I don't believe we brought it back," Seira muses, genuinely confused.
<Seira> "There is always another option," she suggests then. "That person, Donald, claimed he was being attacked in his room by a ghoul after their spread was stopped, correct?"
> "...yes, I remember that," OBeruth nods, quick. "Do you think they were related?"
<Shamal> "Yes, he mentioned that when I saw him leaving the city," Shamal agrees. "But we've had no reports of undead since then otherwise, have we?"
<Seira> "The commonly accepted outcome is that he was wrong," Seira responds, nodding to Shamal as the latter speaks. "However, it could easily have been true. Or, alternately, he could have been in a similar state of rage as Lyselle. His perception of events would have been altered, then."
* Seira frowns. "One high-level mage made his way into the city, and used his presence here to affect other people and recruit them into his criminal ring. It is possible he is responsible, as he is likely to hold a grudge against us. And if this is unrelated to him... if one powerful mage could get here unannounced, then there may well be another."
> "Regardless of it this is coming from one source or not a moment, a lot of this sort of element has occured. The one was related to Malmuth..." So he ponders, "I wonder. Now, I wonder."
<Seira> "It is worth pointing out that there was no material focus this time. I found nothing at the scene."
<Lyselle> "We ran into some Malmuthian representatives or merchants in the street following the thing, though that seems unrelated," Lyselle offers, shrugging a bit.
> "Hmmm." Oberuth considers, taking a long drink from his mug. "That's the devil of this. How much is related and how much isn't? Is it a few unrelated events or some grand scheme, or somewhere in the middle."
<Shamal> "There's an unfortunate lack of evidence," Shamal agrees sadly.
<Seira> "There might be a chance to find out," Seira muses out loud. "A slight one, but it is not zero."
> "Seira?" Oberuth looks onto her, "If you have an idea, go on."
* Seira gives Lyselle a mildly unconfortable look, before saying, "Sir Farmsturt mentioned a temple to Helm where he believes he received a cautioning vision from Helm himself. According to him, the place is sacred to Helm and his chosen. As he has spoken to us once before, we may qualify, and traveling there on a pilgrimage of sorts might give us some of the answers we seek."
> "...hm. You want to go there?" Oberuth asks bluntly. "Where is it?"
<Lyselle> "Next door to Armasea," Lyselle provides, making a clicking sound with her tongue.
<Seira> "I would not suggest it if I did not think it could aid us," Seira says, glancing at Lyselle again.
> "Oh!" Oberuth looks at Lyselle with a half mixed smile, "...Very well. If you wish to go, go."
<Shamal> "I think it could prove enlightening," Shamal offers her support.
> The Commander pauses, "I can't say you aren't capable, and you may very well be our best recruits for a long time. If I don't trust your judgment and information gathering...so go."
> Berlioz nods in silent agreement.
* Lyselle just offers a light smile to Seira, seemingly unbothered. "There could be some niceties to being in my home barony again," she adds in agreement.
> "Well then, go," The Commander stands up, "By the time you get back..." He ponders a moment, "It's a week's travel if not more, so, hah, hah. You should get back in time if all goe swell."
<Shamal> "In time for what, sir?" Shamal asks curiously, likewise rising.
<Seira> "In time for what, Sir?" Seira asks, looking troubled.
* Lyselle refrains from joining the chorus, but looks curious regardless.
> "Let's see now. You've defeated an onset of undeath, created a noted magical sword and generally excelled in a few months. You've attracted attention, even with potential political gaffes." A long, wide shrug. "Khardon's not the only one that's taking an interest in what's going on here."
* Shamal looks a bit put out, trying to think of what gaffes she could have caused.
<Seira> "Gaffes, Sir?" Seira rises to the bait.
> "There were some political hats on your potential mission into Malmuth," Oberuth shrugs, "Fools, the lot of them, but sometimes you can't escape politics."
<Seira> "That still does not tell us what we will be in time for, Sir," Seira respectfully reminds him.
> "Lord Salman's official visit," Commander Oberuth says with aplomb. "It hasn't been announced quite yet."
* Seira nods. "It will be an honor to be present for the occasion, Sir."
> ---