Nights of Steel and Fire (D&D)

[Cynical Cat]

"Certainly," said the guard. "Go right in and present yourself directly at the keep."

[LadyTevar]

"Thank you!" Torma said, smiling politely (which meant not even the barest hint of fang showed). "Shall we continue, gentlemen?" she asked Malk and Gar, striding forward without waiting for an answer.

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris nodded politely to the guard and followed Torma inside.

[SirNitram]

[Removed, as I don't actually have any books on my sheet.]

[LadyTevar]

((Dammit... removed reply))

[Cynical Cat]

Candlekeep's courtyards were busy with the normal activities of the day, shoeing horses, tending animals, repairs, and so on and so forth. The massive keep loomed over all, standing patiently for another in a long line of suitors. Few people came to Candlekeep for its lore, the price was simply too high. But a few did and they came from every corner of Faerun so the visitors were more numerous than they might be.

The adventurers climbed the steps and proceeded through a door. A dour guard waited both without and within. A middle aged woman in a plain robe, her blond hair going to grey, looked up from her lecturn in the antechamber as they entered. Her eyebrows raised when she saw the dragon. "Weclome to Candlekeep," she said. "What have you brought us?"

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris stepped forward and reached into his cloak, opening the pouch containing the book Justiciar Krelben had given him. "Reader, I bring this. It is an illuminated manuscript of the Journey of Tyr, and it is in most pressing need that I present it to you.

[LadyTevar]

Well... Gar did have the book, so Torma let him speak. The fact that he was covered in mud might even lend credence to his claim of 'pressing need'.

[Cynical Cat]

The reader accepted the book and opened it on her lecturn. She carefully flipped through the pages, examining the content before raising her eye. "How may Candlekeep be of assistance?"

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris briefly considered some form of obfuscation, but dismissed the thought as foolhardy. The monks of Candlekeep were hardly likely to be even remotely in league with their pursuers. "I am Lord Gaheris Trollbane of the Church of Tyr. My companions and I seek knowledge of an entity known as Mak Thuum Ngatha and any cult it may have in the mortal realms. All we have to go on are names; we can't make heads nor tails of it. Our need is dire because we believe cultists of this being have kidnapped one of our high church lords, and done so with the aid of summoned fiends."

[Cynical Cat]

The reader raised her eyebrows in surprise. "The name is unknown to me, but that does not mean it is unknown in Candlekeep. Can you tell me any more about it so I may narrow the search?"

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris nodded in acknowledgement. "We don't know much. The cultists who were first sent against us were sent by one Zrem Hedar of Elturel, called Last of Nine and First among the Speakers. We couldn't learn what our... informant meant by 'the Speakers,' but the Nine are apparently the heralds of Mak Thuum Ngatha, which was referred to as the Way Made Flesh. That's all we've been able to learn so far; every lead before now has come up dry. The pit fiends who attacked the Abbey of the Blinding Truth this morning, of course, weren't answering questions."

[Cynical Cat]

The reader considered her response. "This being sounds quite unusual. Go through, take the first corridor to the right and then descend three levels. You will find Davorik Cass down there. He is our expert on otherworldly esoterica."

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris nodded. "Thank you, Reader," he said courteously, "though I should like to clean up a bit before going to the tomes; I would hate for this mud to damage a volume," he said with an icy glare at Torma.

[LadyTevar]

Torma ignored the glare as if Gar was invisible. "Thank you Reader," she said, with a bow of her head. "First corridor to the right, descend three levels. Master Davorik Cass."

She turned to look a Malkamar. "We should not waste any time, the abbot is in great danger," she said, paraphrasing Gar's on words.

((Cantrip on Gaheris, to cleanse the mud from his clothing and body))

[SirNitram]

"We'll get started, Gaheris." Malkamar commented. "Catch up once you're clean. Thank you, Reader."

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris did not thank Torma. After all, she was the reason she'd needed to do that in the first place. "Never mind, then," he said to the Reader instead, and followed the other two down the specified corridor.

[Cynical Cat]

Candlekeep's corridors were narrow and lined with bookshelves. The lighting was soft and weak, but sufficient to allow the adventurers to find their way. The descended to the appointed level and saw a young human, perhaps in his mid twenties, transcribing a book in the corner of a very large room. He was dark haired and clean shaven.

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris hesitated for a moment, not wishing to interrupt, but then, he, or more accurately the church, had paid the fee for Candlekeep's service, and then some.

"Excuse me," he said in an instinctively low voice. "We're looking for Davorik Cass."

[Cynical Cat]

"You have found him," said the young man. "How can I help you?"

[Rogue 9]

"We're told you're an expert on extraplanar beings, so we have some questions to put to you. We're having difficulties with cultists of a being called Mak Thuum Ngatha, and so far nobody's been able to tell us aught of it save vague references to other names and organizations."

[SirNitram]

"We... think it means 'The Way Made Flesh'." Malkamar spoke up. "And we think it's involved with some powerful fiends. Anything you can furnish us with will be immensely useful."

[Cynical Cat]

He sighed. "I guess it was inevitable that the tsochar would reach this world. Yes, I am familiar with the followers of Mak Thuum Ngatha."

[SirNitram]

"Okay... Yea. That's not a good way to start the conversation." Malkamar rubbed his nose. "Tsochar. Religion? Critter? Horrific things from beyond the realms normal humans can comprehend?"

[Rogue 9]

"Tsochar?" Gaheris' brow furrowed. "Never heard of them before."