Gareth then offered them to Alvin, D'aden, and Olven.

Alvin took one and pinned it to her outfit too.

D'aden takes the brooch from Gareth, then holds it to one side of his face and gives it a long look through his peripheral vision. Finally, he eloquently expresses his informed opinion by saying "huh" before pinning the thing to the black cloak he's wearing.
"At least the colors complement each other," he says.

Olven takes the brooch he has been given and clips it to his shirt. He turns to Tomas and Michel and says, "Wait for us here. We'll return shortly."

"Very dashing," Gareth responds to D'aden's comment.

Olven's followers acknowledged his orders and the heroes followed Gareth into the Shoikan Grove towards the tower.

As they walked, they started to hear strange and horrific noises from nearby. There was movement in other places, though they couldn't see what kind of creatures were moving behind the trees.

”Interesting security system you have here,” Olven remarks dryly as he follows behind Gareth. The former mercenary stays alert for trouble, but the brooches should protect the group from whatever lurks beyond the trees. His knife, the lone weapon he wears, will provide little protection against horrific monsters, but he trusts he will not need to use it.

D'aden begins to whistle, then hum, then quietly sing. It is quickly apparent he's composing on the spot, probably to help with his nerves.
"There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going
Is it raining, is it snowing
Is a hurricane a-blowing
Not a speck of light is showing
So the danger must be growing
For the path just keeps on going
And there aren't any signs showing
no, no, that's not right
Neither town nor inn is showing"

"There's nothing to fear but fear itself," Gareth said. "Fear keeps the locals out. Fear of this grove. No one can pass through the grove without permission. Not even the fearless kender."

”Fear, eh?” Olven Wolf looks toward the trees and listens to the hideous sounds that come from the grove’s depths. ”Doesn’t seem like much of a deterrent without something real to back it up.” He imagines the path ahead and behind consumed in fire, the flames licking at his hands and feet, the heat melting his face and turning his hair to ash. He growls and shakes his head. ”Let’s just keep moving,” he says gruffly.

Roisin glowered at Olven "Fear? Fear is the only thing that makes the stalwart crumble. Even bravery, idiocy and determination crumble in its face. Fear can make someone betray all of their ideals in a heartbeat. What greater defence could there be?" she looked around her. "This place has remained inviolate throughout time. Other towers have been destroyed or fallen into ruin. This one remains. A testament to fear. I know my limits. I reached beyond them during my Test, yet I would not dare set one foot in the grove without permission. Be afraid, be very afraid. In the grove...no-one can hear you scream."

"Fear has always been interesting, to me. I can recall my tenth season party, we'd had a good harvest and the entire stead was celebrating. But, the night before I'd been in the south pasture and had to fend off a pack of dogs that came after the sheep. After the dogs had gone I was sweaty and shaking, expecting some sort of disaster."
"The next morning, I felt the same way. Sweaty and shaking, anticipating something big. Only I wasn't afraid, just anticipating the celebration. Made me wonder, just how real is fear if it makes you feel the same as anger, or joy, or the beginning tremors of love?"
D'aden continues to hum, and occasional test out phrases on his pan flute (some of which sound suspiciously similar to a ballad about brave draconians that was becoming a minor hit on the tavern circuit).

Olven snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. “There we disagree, Roisin. If a man crumbles in fear, I’d call him craven, not stalwart. I’m not denying the power of fear, but cold steel, a monster’s venom, a spell’s paralyzing touch - these things can hurt and kill, have decimated nations and peoples. Dying of fright - I guess that can happen, but I’d say it’s pretty low on the list of things that can do you in.”

”All of that - “ He waves a hand toward the grove, the horrors it promises, the terrors unseen. “If it were merely fears… Now, fear made flesh — that would be terrifying. All your deepest fears, coalescing into material form — that would be enough to drive one mad. All men have fears. To face one’s fears, to look them in the face and see them for what they are — that reveals who a person truly is, defines us.”

Again he imagines the grove ungulfed in flame. That would drive him mad, he knows this. But kill him? Never. He grits his teeth. ”I would never, under the pain of death, betray what I believe and hold dear. Fear as a defense will ultimately fail once it meets one who will not crumble in the face of it. It only protects as long as it holds power over those it would cower. Once fear is faced and overcome, it is toothless.”

At D’aden’s words, Olven Wolf cocks an eyebrow. The man continues to surprise.

"You wouldn't want to experience what it is like to enter the grove without the protection of a nightjewel," Gareth said. "It is not pleasant." A strange expression crossed the bard's face; as if he had personal experience in making such an attempt. "Fear doesn't need flesh, exactly, to push you away from its domain. It is difficult to explain to those that haven't experienced it."

Nodding his head in agreement, Olven Wolf smiles wryly. "I believe you," he says simply. "I'm sure I can survive whatever fears, either real or imagined, lurk within those woods, but I'd rather not have to test myself."

The sounds and movements continued at the edge of perception as the heroes past through the grove. The tower was surrounded by another safeguard, a black fence more than 15 feet high. It seemed to have been by the same material used for the pin Gareth was wearing.

He unlocked the gate with a movement of his hand and a couple of command words in the language of magic. In the center of the tower was a shaft leading up further than the heroes could see in the darkness. And the staircase that hugged the wall of that cylinder was narrow and without a railing. Meeting anyone on the stairs would be perilous.


[OOC: There are a number of images of the tower on the internet. My description was made from something like the image at http://dlnexus.com/fan/art/10734.aspx, but I like the image at https://thousand-years-of-slee...s/tower-of-palanthas more. Even though it doesn't show the domed roofs. The text on the second page talks about how the tower was moved to Nightlund. Which of course didn't happen in this timeline.]

D'aden cranes his head back and squints up the stairs, "I wonder if it's possible to gather the energy humans use to climb stairs for the purposes of casting spells. Just a fraction from each foot everywhere within the horizon, depending on the number of people, could be phenomenal."

"From miles in every direction? That kind of force could power practically anything." Olven Wolf peers up at the curving staircase that winds its way around the tower. "I'll go first," he offers, and begins to ascend the stairs.

The heroes went up the stairs several levels before Gareth instructed them to enter a corridor. It ended in a 3-way intersection with a door in the intersection. The two other corridors were curved.

Gareth knocked on the door and they were invited inside. Gareth opened the door for them and gave a short introduction. "Some visitors are here to see you Master." Before he closed the door.

Inside, Nathan Evardson, the Master of Past and Present, was seated in a nice and comfortable chair behind a desk with a stack of books.

Nodding in thanks as Gareth shows them in, Olven Wolf walks through the door and takes up a position on the left. He gives a short bow. "Olven Wolf, sir," he says simply, leaving the others to introduce themselves.

Mirroring Olven, D'aden steps through the door and bows before taking a position on the right. But he adds to the introduction with a gesture towards Roisin, "I'm known as D'aden Tor, we've accompanied Roisin Uth Bannator who wishes to speak to you."

"I see," the blue-robed man said. "What can I help you with?"

Olven waits for Roisin to speak, but when she does not, he clears his throat. "You currently have in your possession the icon of truth, my lord, and its owner has asked it to be returned," Olven says. "We also ask leave to do some research in your library for information on an affliction we wish to heal. In addition, we have come to ask for a nightjewel to repay a debt that Roisin owes to Mistress Caladen in Kalaman. Gareth tells us that none outside the Tower may keep a nightjewel in their possession, but perhaps an exception could be made in this case."

OOC: Olven wants to let Roisin take the lead here, but I'd like to keep the story moving forward. He will defer to her during this visit.

"There is nothing under the heavens that will convince me to give Caladen a nightjewel to do with as she pleases," Master Evardson said. "But anyone who is willing to read the Icon of Truth and pledge their allegiance to the High God can study here as much as they like." He looked at Roisin and Alvin. "And to let you return it to its owner, I need you, all of you, to do me a favor of my choosing."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:14, Thu 03 Jan 2019.

"Who is this High God," Alvin asked.

"Read and find out," the Master of the Tower said.