In reply to GM (msg # 78):

OOC: As requested:

14:35, Today: Tegan rolled 18 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 16.  Dexterity Saving Throw (Fireball).

Our paladin, the assassin.

Le sigh.

R B D M

In reply to Tegan (msg # 79):

The localized inferno completely engulfs Lady Shadesworn, catching her entirely off-guard. You, however, have been through enough combat situations to know how to adapt to sudden changes. Throwing yourself backwards just as the flames erupt, you manage to toss yourself almost completely out of the way of the fireball. Singed and with a bit of excess heat radiating through your armor, you come out of the blast comparatively healthy...

Lady Shadesworn, however, caught the full brunt of the blast. As the flames die out, you see two thirds of her right arm and the hand of her left, both of which had been clutching the book itself when the spell erupted, have been completely incinerated. Little more than blackened bone and sinew remain. Her face is a mess of freshly-charred flesh, but you can still see her mouth moving; taking in pained breaths as the damage sinks in. Her robe is surprisingly untouched, clearly protected by some manner of enchantment upon the cloth itself. It seems only exposed flesh and non-magical equipment was directly damaged by the spell.

You can hear a quiet gasping for breath as you survey the area. Lady Shadesworn is still very much alive, but has taken a grievous amount of damage.

---

14:27, Today: GM, for the NPC Fireball Trap, rolled 33 using 9d6. You take only 17 fire damage thanks to your save.
Paula, meanwhile, in the tradition of my important NPCs always having the worst luck:
15:04, Today: GM, for the NPC Paula Shadefang, rolled 1 Dexterity Saving Throw using 1d20 ((1)).
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:15, Wed 02 Dec 2020.

Tegan was already moving as the fiery magicks erupted out of the book that Lady Shadesworn was holding, and the force of the blast flung him even further away from the desk, where he hit the floor with a grunt of pain and a great rattle and clang of his armor. His Cerulean-blue tabard was now blackened and smoking, but between his quick reaction and the protection afforded by his heavy armor, he instinctively knew that he had been lucky -- he could have been injured much more severely, if not killed outright.

From flat on his back, he stared about with a blank look on his face. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like unto a fish that had suddenly and unexpectedly pulled from the water.

With a grunt of effort the Half-Elf laboriously pulled himself to his feet, his look of consternation turning to one of horror as he got a good look at Lady Shadesworn.

"Oh . . ." he gasped as he stared at the unfortunate woman. Suddenly realizing that his mouth was still open, he shut it.

Clearing his throat, Tegan reacted as he would in a battle -- by addressing what needed doing first. He stepped around the desk, but did not touch the Librarian.

Clearing his throat, Tegan addressed the other victim of the fiery magicks. "Lady Shadesworn . . . I know that you are in great pain, but I can help."

"You must allow me to touch you, as my healing magicks require it. I . . . I think that I can heal the worst of your hurts, although mayhap not all of them."

"You need not speak -- merely nod your head if you will allow it."

Normally, there would not even be a question -- anyone who had suffered serious hurt would be eager to receive any healing that would ease their pain. But in this case, Tegan was uncertain as to whether Lady Shadesworn might suspect him as being involved in an attempt on her life -- in which case she might not want him anywhere near her.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:49, Wed 02 Dec 2020.

In reply to Tegan (msg # 82):

She pulls in a few more agonized breaths before finally nodding slowly toward you. Her eyes fix on you and you realize for the first time since meeting her that they are clearly prosthetics. Some form of carved crystal orbs set into the sockets. They acknowledge your presence, but seem to see little else at the moment.

Her eyes slowly travel down the length of her arms, now seeing the full extent of the damage done. From her mouth you catch a few strained whispers. “S...Sul....Thor... Bring... Sulth...or...”

Bartimaeus shielded his eyes from the blast, taking a few steps back as a wave of pressure and heat passed over him. Blinking, he regained his composure to see Tegan moving to Shadesworn’s side.

~~ Book. Explosion upon opening. Or upon reading. Assassination. ~~

~~ Town Square librarian compromised. ~~

~~ We are the patsies. ~~

~~ Shadesworn must live, or we die. ~~

Bartimaeus ran back to the reliquary doors and shouted, “MEDIIIIIIIIIC!”

---

OOC:
15:55, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  Arcana.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 84):

Though you aren’t intimately familiar with the spell, you’re confident the book was set with some manner of glyph or contingency which would have caused the fireball to trigger. The trick is determining what exactly caused it. Because depending on how specific the requirements for detonation were, their could have either been a trap meant specifically for Lady Shadesworn, or simply one meant to cause as much collateral damage as possible. If Tegan or Yshtar or yourself had opened the book, would it have detonated then? In whatever crowded, public space you’d been standing in at the time? Or was it set specifically to only go off in Lady Shadesworn’s hands or when she read it?

Unfortunately, without the book in question, it would be fruitless guessing.

Racing out of the Reliquary, you find there is already a small crowd of curious attendants heading your way. Amongst them come a trio of the robe-wearing imps, who immediately set their sights on you. You hear one let out a feral snarl at the sight of you. As your calls for a medic go up, a few of the curators suddenly find their legs and race over to you; inquiring as to what has happened.

Bartimaeus scowled back at the imp, pointing a finger at it. "Tear me to pieces later, you flying fanged pedant!" To the gathering crowd he said, "Your mistress needs medical attention IMMEDIATELY! Fetch a jolly jumping MEDIC."

He paused. Then shouted again, louder, holding his hands palm-outwards.

"STOP: GUARDS! GUARDS! Theft in the reliquary!"

In a lower voice to those before him he said, "Because that's what will happen if you all rush in here."

He turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on the crowd, "Yshtar! There'll soon be a crowd pressing on me with the door open. Help! Tegan, does she live?"

---

OOC:
11:25, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Intimidation, crowd, "stay back".
Cast Mage Hand (no somatic or verbal components, invisible hand); prepared to use reaction to shove non-imp, non-guards away from the door.

Tegan could hear Bartimaeus shouting for a healer, but he did not hear the cleric calling for the person whom Lady Shadesworn had requested -- "Sulthor " the Half-Elf believed the name to be, although the Librarian's badly cracked and blistered lips, as well as the obvious strain that it was for her to speak, had made it a little difficult to understand her.

~Curious . . . Bartimaeus calls for a healer, yet he has done no healing himself. Mayhap the clerics of Oghma are scholars, but not healers -- at least not all of them.~

Turning to Yshtar, Tegan said "Lady Shadesworn has requested that someone named Sulthor be brought to her. Can you stick your head outside the door and call for him -- or her? If you need to reach out and grab someone by the scruff of their neck in order to make them listen to you, well . . . obviously, 'tis urgent."

"Aye, she yet lives," he called out the door in response to Bartimaeus' inquiry. ~And I am about to make certain of that.~

Thinking that mayhap Lady Shadesworn was lapsing into shock -- if, indeed, she had not already done so -- so that thinking clearly or expressing herself would become more difficult for her, Tegan resolved to be more assertive about pressing his own healing upon the Librarian -- for who knew how long it would take for aid to arrive from outside the room?

Turning back to Lady Shadesworn, he spoke gently and said "Aid is on the way, Lady Shadesworn. In the meantime, I am going to touch you lightly on the shoulder, so that I may heal you to the best of my abilities. It will . . . repair at least some of the damage that has been done to you, and should ease your pain somewhat."

OOC: Unless Lady Shadesworn obviously rejects Tegan's healing, he will employ his paladin's healing touch.

Stepping closer to Lady Shadesworn, Tegan lightly touched her nearest shoulder. He knew from using the same power to heal a burn that Mains had suffered in the forge that he did not need to touch the wounded area in order for his power to function, and he reckoned that even a light touch upon the Librarian's ruined hands might well cause her additional pain.

"May this healing be a balm to your hurts, and bring you relief from your pain," he said. A flash of radiant white light, tinged with an undertone of violet coloration, erupted from underneath his gauntlet, where it rested upon Lady Shadesworn's shoulder. ~I wish that I could call upon my Patron by name as I employ the boon of my healing touch . . . well, hopefully one day, 'twill be so.~

Given the way that Mains had described it, Tegan thought it likely that Lady Shadesworn felt the healing as a cooling balm that was flowing throughout her ruined body, along with a great, calming sense of well-being.

---

OOC: Unless Lady Shadesworn rejects his ministrations, Tegan will lay on hands for 15 hit points of healing.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Thu 03 Dec 2020.

OOC: Asuming that Lady Shadesworn has accepted Tegan's Lay on Hands healing, he will follow up with the casting of Cure Wounds spells.

"And now, Lady Shadesworn, I am going continue healing you by means of casting spells," Tegan said, still speaking quietly and calmly.

"I am empowered to cast thrice today, and I shall continue until my power is expended or you are fully healed, whichever first occurs."

So saying, Tegan shifted his hands so that his left rested atop Lady Shadesworn's shoulder, and with his right he traced the appropriate sigils in the air. "May these healing boons knit together flesh and bone, cool your o'erheated blood, and bring you relief from your pain," he intoned.

With the casting of each set of magicks, another burst of radiant white light (tinged with violet) erupted from underneath the gauntleted hand that rested atop Lady Shadesworn's shoulder.

---

OOC:

13:30, Today: Tegan rolled 8 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 5.  Cure Wounds: Casting #1.

13:31, Today: Tegan rolled 5 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 2.  Cure Wounds: Casting #2.

13:31, Today: Tegan rolled 5 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 2.  Cure Wounds: Casting #3.

Total Healing Available: 18.

Notes: The Dice Roller did me no favors (eh, mayhap Tegan's making his Dex save when the fireball erupted used up his Luck for the time being), so I believe that all three of his Cure Wounds spells will be needed.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:08, Thu 03 Dec 2020.

Tegan: Lady Shadesworn’s condition does not seem to improve and you immediately fear the worst. She lapses into a light bout of tremors, her entire body wracked by them. Then falls ceases moving at all. Her eyes roll back and close.

Her breathing, however, continues. Still remaining sharp and pained, but steady. You’re quite certain she’s unconscious, or on the verge of losing consciousness, but she begins to stabilize as you pour wave after wave of healing energy into her. You’re confident she’ll survive. The severity of the wounds, however, is far more concerning than her condition overall. Both hands are gone. The majority of one entire arm is incinerated down to blackened bone. Her face is heavily singed and charred raw. Yet nothing about the damage appears life-threatening. This could clearly have turned out worse...

---

Bartimaeus: The group pauses a moment as they near, now about a dozen concerned curators and three shelf imps. You’re not entirely certain your display had the intended effect, but it at least hasn’t caused any of them to speed their advance. Some even come to a stop where you tell them to. The imps, however, and a pair of elderly, robe-clad archivists continue forward.

The first of these men strides up before you. You see now he is a goliath of advanced age; likely nearing 80 if he’s not already beyond its borders. When he speaks it is in a deep, gravelly timbre, but his words are articulate and carefully chosen.
“Enough. Enough! Lower your voice, you pestilent little fool! You’ll cause a scene!” He stands a good foot-and-a-half taller than you; a single deep-crimson tattoo dividing his bald head in half down the center of his face. “Who are you and what’s happened? Speak plain before we toss you from the balcony and find out ourselves!”

The human woman behind him (of a similar age, but significantly shorter and frailer-looking) simply nods along in a “what he said” fashion. The imps cling to the sides of the goliath’s robe, bearing their teeth at you with a collective hiss.

Bartimaeus lowered his voice, narrowed his eyes, and addressed the Goliath, “I forgive you because of your ignorance, else you’d not spew idleness. Urgency is required: the Lady has been subject to an assassination attempt, and clings to life within. A courier delivered a book ensorcelled with contingent evocation. But a crowd must not enter: the reliquary defenses are laid open and the priceless artifacts vulnerable during such a distraction as this.”

He stood up to his full short height, knowing the likely consequences, and declared, “I am Brother-Scholar Bartimaeus Gianakos of the Oghmanic Monastery of Q’kwarm; I am here by the Lady’s grace and under her protection; and my actions are guided by the interests of your institution and your Lady’s life. Touch me at your peril.”

His voice became lower still. “Now: Get. A. Medic.”

Tegan felt defeated and deflated, like an empty wineskin. Based upon Mains' reaction to his healing magicks back in Saltspire, he had expected to see a significant improvement in Lady Shadesworn's condition, but he had witnessed no such thing. ~Have I done something wrong?~ he wondered. ~What could it be? Did I not get the sigils right?~

He had pushed the pain of his own burns into the background as he concentrated on Lady Shadesworn's hurts, but now they throbbed with a vengeance. And seemingly using so much magicked power in such a short period of time had severely drained him, for he now felt light-headed and wobbly on legs that threatened to collapse under him. Tegan steadied himself by putting a hand on the desk as he waited for his head to clear, at least a little.

The Half-Elf could hear raised voices outside the door to the room, but the words eluded him as he put his primary effort into not falling down.

"Sulthor . . ." he croaked in a weary voice that he scarce recognized as his own as he turned and glanced at the door to the room.

"Has Sulthor been called for?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:09, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 90):

Bartimaeus: The goliath squares up with you, now pushing himself about an inch from your space. Even in his old age, you can tell that the figure beneath the robe possesses an intimidating build. He glares down at you with teeth now bared in much the same way as the imps fortifying themselves behind his bulk. “You want to try giving me another order, little man? I’m familiar enough with your brotherhood to know that history dictates the only one we need be worried about lifting something from our reliquary is standing between us and it right now.”

You can see the others gathered here looking on in some concern now. They are clearly looking to the goliath for direction here and are likely to follow his example.
(Roll an intimidation check for your previous command.)

---

Tegan: In your moment of desperation you feel your faith begin to slip. For even the briefest moment, the sudden shock of the situation and the seeming ineffectiveness of your healing sends an unexpected wave of doubt through you. It is minor. Barely more than an afterthought of what you are focusing on. But it is there...

And it resonates.


As you pour the final bit of healing into Lady Shadesworn’s unconscious body, you become vaguely aware of a change. The final spell tugs at you in a way the others have not. Drawing from something you weren’t expecting. You feel a momentary lapse in your awareness, as though your body has skipped ahead several seconds without your mind in tow. The light emanating from your hands as the spell connects takes on a pale, light purple hue. And as you watch, some of the burn marks begin to recede.

 It isn’t much. Not yet, at least. But it is something. It is more than what was present before your moment of doubt. And you feel confident that, whatever it was, you can replicate it.

---

(From here on out, you can add the paladin class feature Enlightened Sutures to your character. With this feature, any time you heal a creature other than yourself, you can add your Wisdom modifier to the total amount healed, regardless of the source. The target of your enlightened healing is then also healed again for just your Wisdom modifier’s amount at the start of their next turn.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:07, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

00:10, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Intimidate.

---

"You don't like me standing in front of you?"

Bartimaeus steps to the side, holding his arms wide open, gesturing him to enter.

"Now, kindly, if you please, with a spoonful of sugar on top..." just as Bartimaeus was about to begin using colorful metaphors, he heard Tegan's croaking voice. "... somebody get Sulthor."

---

OOC:
00:25, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  Perception (hear Tegan).
Nuts! Coulda used that Nat20 just a bit earlier!

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 93):

The goliath’s hands are on your shoulders before you even know what’s happened. Old, wiry, but still very much bound with muscle, you can feel the pressure grow as he grips you with both hands and attempts to lift you off your feet.

The mention of Sulthor’s name gives him pause for a moment. “What are yo... What purpose does that drunkard hold to you? Just tossing names about hoping we’ll be impressed now?” Whatever he was about to do, he seems to forget it and instead simply shoves his way passed you into the reliquary.

Spotting the scorched stones of the desk and its surrounding decor, he suddenly begins looking about for Lady Shadesworn; his view of her body blocked by the bulk of the desk itself.“What in the Nine Hells has happened? Where is she?”
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:21, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

Bartimaeus straightened out his robes as the Golaith began shouting. He looked at the frail woman and said, "I did say, 'ensorcelled contingent evocation assassination attempt', did I?"

"The Lady called for Sulthor herself."

Yshtar emerged from behind Bartimaeus after thinking long and hard of touching the sword in the back but ultimately deciding against it as they didn't need it at the moment and the crowd was too big. She wasn't some lowly thief either. Only curious. Then she turned to the goliath.

"So someone get that man and you, halt. We want to save the Lady and so do you."


She heard enough of the man to try to modulate her voice to at least try to make him shut up.

OOC:
11:46, Today: Yshtar rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  persuading.
21:08, Today: Yshtar rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  persuading with advantage
Cast Command on goliath with command of "Halt"/
This message was last edited by the player at 21:08, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

Tegan shook his head, wondering if he had gone feeble-minded -- if the whole idea of his being someone's mighty paladin was all a smoke-dream. But no, the words that had popped into his mind were still there. He was unsure whether he had actually somehow heard them spoken, or whether they were just there. But there they were -- in his head, that is to say.

The Half-Elf did not understand the meaning of most of them. Well, that was not quite right -- the meaning of each individual word was clear enough . . . 'twas as if he were trying to read an incomplete message from a parchment, a message that had as many gaps as words. There was something about a "Forge", and Tegan did not think that Mains' forge back in Saltspire was being referenced -- and "Make Whole" was in there as well.

But in his present state of mind, when he was doubting both himself and his understanding of what he had experienced, dating back to that first visitation in his room back in Saltspire, he seized upon the first words of the message -- as if whoever sent the message could sense what was troubling him: "Doubt Not".

Those words, and the fact that the final set of magicks that he had cast had somehow felt different -- and indeed, had seemed more effective, if the effect on Lady Shadesworn's body was any indication -- gave him some hope that he had been somehow chosen by his Patron, and that this was a beneficial thing. Indeed, "Called" was another one of those mysterious words.

In spite of the fact that Tegan's burns still pained him, he felt some of his strength returning, and he no longer felt that he was going to collapse on the floor of the room. And he knew from his experiences in the Saltspire Militia that the ability to keep a cool head in times of crisis -- when others were losing theirs (literally and figuratively) was something that had served him well.

And so it was that he was calm of expression and voice when he turned to face the hulking figure who stood in the doorway of the room, loudly demanding answers to his questions.

"Lady Shadesworn was badly injured when a book that she opened exploded in her face. She will not die, but she needs more aid than I am able to provide. Before she passed out from her injuries, she requested that Sulthor be brought to her -- as my companion has just now told you, that request was from her own lips."

---

OOC: Given Yshtar's nice die-roll on her Persuasion Check, I doubt that she needs any help from Tegan. But to the extent that it matters, his words might be considered to support hers, to the extent that she might gain an Advantage re-roll, should she need it. :)
This message was last edited by the player at 17:25, Fri 04 Dec 2020.

In reply to Yshtar (msg # 96):

The goliath stops in his tracks as Yshtar’s words connect, clearly hitting in a way he wasn’t anticipating. He takes one final step into the reliquary and goes no further. You can see his teeth clench as her influence overtakes him, yet he says nothing concerning it. Instead, looking from her to Tegan, he simply raises his head a bit, gazing down at both with a defiant incline of his entire upper body. “The assassin. Where are they? The reliquary’s structure dampens magic usage in here. If they tried teleporting away, we would have heard them collide with a wall. If they tried becoming invisible, we would see them yet. So where are they? Who planted this book for her to find?”

Finally acknowledging Yshtar’s words, he turns his head (still unable to move his legs from the spot he stands in) toward the old woman behind him. “If it was the Lady’s own demand that the Lord of Fools be brought, call to him. Perhaps she suspects him of hiring this assassin. We would be wiser to confront him once he is here rather than back in his manor... and keep an eye on this one.” He points to Bartimaeus as the congregation encircles him just outside the reliquary’s doorway.

She nods begins casting what Bartimaeus would recognize to be a Sending spell. A moment later she looks back to the goliath and simply nods.

He turns back to Tegan and Yshtar just in time to hear Lady Shadesworn stir slightly from behind the stone desk.
She looks to Tegan and simply nods, you can sense a shred of gratefulness behind the charred visage of her face. She is conscious once more, if nothing else.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:41, Sat 05 Dec 2020.

Yshtar nodded at the goliath's reply.

"Perfect. Let the "lord of fools" in and none else. We will guard this place until the Lady says otherwise."

Helping and protecting a councilwoman probably meant acknowledgement to the least. Later this acknowledgement might turn into something more material. But for now they had to be adamant and show strength in front of the Lady and her servants.

Bartimaeus looked at Yshtar warmly, an admiring grin on his face, before he turned to his as-yet hands-off captors. “There now. Reason triumphs at last. But since your prejudices incline you to supervision of the innocent, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Airing his robes Bartimaeus sat down where he’d stood, closed his eyes, folded his hands before him, and began to pray a salutary to Oghma before lapsing slowly into silent stillness.

Tegan returned Lady Shadesworn's nod, although he was not certain that 'twas a good thing that she was awake. ~I do not believe that my healing magicks were all that effective. She must be feeling terrible pain from the horrible injuries that she suffered.~

"They are putting the word out for Sulthor, Lady Shadesworn," he informed her, since he was uncertain how much she could see or hear from her spot on the floor behind the desk.

Turning to face the hulking figure that he now recognized as a Goliath, Tegan pursed his lips thoughtfully. ~By all the good gods, this one reminds me of nothing so much as an enforcer or strong-arm bandit from one of the thieves' guilds. He does not strike me as the bookish sort -- nor as being especially learned.~

"I can answer some of your questions," he answered, squaring his shoulders and standing up to his full height. "I am the one who brought the book to Lady Shadesworn, but I am no assassin. I was standing close to her when she opened the tome and it exploded, and as you can see," he said gesturing at his charred and burned tabard, "I suffered some measure of hurt from the magicked flames, myself."

Tegan grunted. "I suppose that some could suspect that I am a crafty fellow who voluntarily stood in and took this damage so that I could deflect suspicion away from myself, but I assure you that that is not the case."

"In point of fact, I delivered the book at the request of Ixvill Hangvor, whom I met at the branch Library on Town Square. He told me that he was leaving town and was unable to make the delivery himself -- to hear him tell it, he was on his way to Scarborough-at-the-Crossroads to visit some friends -- although it now seems unlikely that he will be found there, if you were to send a squad of Guards to search for him."

It now occurred to Tegan that if Hangvor had in fact disappeared, there would be no one to confirm his version of what had occurred. ~That does not bode well for me, not in this tight-arsed city.~

~Hells, if nothing else, they will arrest me for failing to have a Writ of Permission to Deliver an Exploding Book to the City Archives.~
This message was last edited by the player at 00:07, Sat 05 Dec 2020.

Her voice is weak and distant, her tone distracted; dreamlike almost. Yet she speaks as best she can, nonetheless. “That’s... nice, dear... I never... did... ask where... you were... from... Such a cu...curious trio...”

Even as you watch, more and more of the burns are healing over. It’s not pretty and it’s not quick, but it is progressing. You suspect she may have a modicum of healing magic herself, though its potency is clearly nothing to write home about.

The goliath sneers at you, clearly about to say something concerning how you being charred by the explosion means nothing and that you easily could have just put yourself in the way of it to divert suspicion... but you end up beating him to the punch by a matter of seconds. It isn’t until Hangvor’s name comes up that he finally cuts you off; cursing as he twists around to shout to another pair from the congregation outside the door. “Loque, Mesq. Gather some of Messus’ outriders! That drow bastard can’t have gotten far.”

He turns back to Tegan and Yshtar, still locked too far from the desk to actually see Lady Shadesworn. Now that he has heard her speak, however, his mood seems to have eased the slightest bit. “You three are still prime suspects. Going to be staying here while we get this whole mess sorted out.”

In reply to GM (msg # 102):

Over the course of the next... several hours, you’re unsure exactly how many, the three of you are questioned at length the goliath and his colleagues. You learn that he is called Rememberer Flogsong, and is in charge of categorizing the archives in its entirety. The whole of current cataloging system used here was his design and his word is second only to Lady Shadesworn herself in the archives.

While you are kept within the magic-dampening safe, Lady Shadesworn is removed from the reliquary and placed on something of a makeshift stretcher a safe distance away from the three of you. A trio of novices tend to her wounds, but much of the damage is beyond repair. Despite the worst of the burns being mitigated, her hands and much of her face are too far gone to save.

You are questioned and inspected, but little is found to truly incriminate you in any way beyond the

Eventually, a quartet of strangely-adorned guards are ushered into the archives. Dressed in black plate armor trimmed with a fine cyan metal, tall full-face helms that conceal every aspect of the head beneath them, and billowing great cloaks that drags on the ground behind and around them, the 7ft tall enforcers strike an intimidating figure. However, they carry no weapons with them. With them comes a half-elven man in his mid to late 30s. He wears the sort of an ostentatious traveling outfit one might associate with a roving bard or the displaced head of a theatre troupe. Rememberer Flogsong speaks with him a few moments, then motions for the three of you to come forward. The easy smile on the man’s face vanishes in an instant as the Rememberer explains the situation to him, and before you know it he is bounding around the goliath and over to Lady Shadesworn.

The two of them speak a moment, quietly. From your spot nearby the door, you can see them conversing, but would be hard pressed to make out their words. Finally, the half-elf nods to her and his four retainers gently lift her stretcher from the ground. He passes a few words to the Rememberer, locks eyes with the three of you, then says something else to him.

The goliath ventures over to you three; a look of utter disgust upon his grizzled old face. “Much as I am loath to do so, Lord van Ellsworth has demanded you three be turned over to him for questioning... Everything. EVERYTHING about this is highly unorthodox. So don’t go thinking anything that you’re seeing right now is normal operating procedure by any extent of the imagination... If you really are innocent of any involvement in this mess, then you have my sincerest sympathies. Because the sheer level of vile luck you lot must be living with isn’t something I’d wish on the lowliest of scum here.”

With that, he removes himself from your path. You are free to join the four massive guards and the Lord of Entertainment at the end of the hallway... or attempt to do something else as you see fit.