~That's as I remember it~ Tegan thought to himself as he listened to Bartimaeus study both the original parchment and the separate piece that held the translation. The Half-Elf had been curious as to whether one who was a scholar could glean any additional meaning that Milo had overlooked, but apparently not.

"Well, as to that, you are going to need to hear my tale, if you are pronouncing yourself to be an interested party -- and interested in learning if pigs can fly," Tegan said in response to the other man's inquiry about "Blood and Honor."

He held out his hand for the two pieces of parchment. "I'll just hold onto those until we reach a place where you can study the original in more detail. It's not that I don't trust you, it's more that I don't know you well enough to know whether I should trust you or not. No offence meant -- I'm just being cautious."

Clearing his throat, he said "Now, as to that link with 'Blood and Honor' that I promised you . . ."

Tegan paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, then began.

"'Twas soon after I had left the Saltshire Guards, having served out my term of enlistment. My father -- may the good gods bless him -- had been nattering at me, pestering as to what I meant to do with myself, now that my steady pay had dried up. And me -- I had not a clue at that point. After giving it some more thought and coming to no conclusions, I had taken myself to bed that eve."

"I was asleep in my bed, when suddenly -- and I am still uncertain as to whether I had a very vivid dream, or whether all that came next truly occurred in the room where I slumbered . . ."

"Any way, I was awakened by a bright light shining upon my eyelids. Upon opening my eyes and sitting up in bed, I glimpsed a blindingly brilliant, radiant white light that lit up the whole room, inducing me to shade my eyes with the flat of my hand. The source was over by the window, as I recall, and was a round sphere, about the size of a Human's head -- and 'twas situated about the height of a Human's head above the floor. 'Twas just hovering there."

"I remember thinking to myself that I should be terrified, but instead I recall feeling an o'erwhelming sense of warmth and calmness -- along with undercurrent of great, massive power. Soon enough I heard the words -- and to this day I am uncertain as to whether they were spoken aloud, or I somehow heard them in my head -- 'Your Spirit has been judged upon the Scales of Reckoning, and has been found worthy -- prepare yourself.'

"I stammered out questions, wondering aloud how I should prepare myself, and to what purpose. After a short pause, I heard 'All will become clear, in good time. Remember, evermore, 'Blood and Honor.'"

"And then, suddenly, I was sitting alone in the dark. I distinctly remember that after feeling warmth during the presence of the entity whom I have come to think of as the Light, I could feel cold chills running down my spine."

Tegan paused for a moment. "On the day after my visitation, as I have come to think of it, I found that I could suddenly do things . . . wondrous things, that had theretofore only been the stuff of imaginings. For example, when my father, Mains, burned his hand at the forge fire, I discovered that I could heal his hurts with a touch. Since then, I have discovered that I have been . . . empowered . . . in other ways."

The Half-Elf smiled. "But I shall not test your patience with such details." Turning to Yshtar, he sketched a bow and said "Bartimaeus, here, has pronounced himself interested my 'Blood and Honor' tale. My apologies if you were not, and you had to suffer  through all that in disinterested silence."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:40, Fri 20 Nov 2020.

"A truly interesting tale Tegan." Yshtar nodded. "I was surprised you got into the "habit of telling it to complete strangers.""

The smile on her lips could have been flirty, friendly or outright sarcastic. She was certainly in a mood for at least some argument however found the initiation of Tegan fascinating.

"However I envy you somewhat for seeing otherworldly creatures who were friendly that way. Those I've met almost always tried to kill me. Or take my sanity. " She shrugged. "Or both. "

This is the way of monster hunters. She just wished less thing wanted to kill her and more would give out boons.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:23, Fri 20 Nov 2020.

Bartimaeus handed Tegan his papers upon request, but looked forward to more time with the original: Undercommon would not long be a bar to his inquiry, and the nature of the parchment and ink -- a conversation between interlocutors taking place on a single sheet suggested the existence of a second sheet somewhere. A sheet whose possessor could be contacted, potentially.

During Tegan's conversion story he glanced at Yshtar, and wondered if in response to this frank and extensive outpouring of personal history to strangers she would pigeonhole Tegan as a closed-mouthed untrusting introvert. Such was her treatment of Bartimaeus so far, so it wouldn't be surprising.

Tegan's story offered several points of interest.

• His time horizon was short; who isn't aware of the end of his enlistment? But he had no plans; not even apprenticing with his father. No thought for the future. Nothing special for most young men, I suppose.
  
• The man didn't know who this benefactor of The Light was. He'd be operating out of pure intuition, vice intellect.
  
• Healing abilities suggest divine origin, but not exclusive.
  
• "Blood and Honor": in combination commonly associated with the ritualized shedding of blood through a) self-sacrifice, or b) slaying. His former profession as a guard suggested the latter martial application.
  
• Blood and Honor link him to Light and Knowledge which links him to the Watcher cult, legitimate or otherwise.
  
• He did not react to my pairing of Light with Knowledge when we met; suggests he attaches no significance to them. Lack of dogma borne of lack of training. If so, and because of the difference of presentation in the vision, it's unlikely this Light is an aspect of the Violet Watcher.
  
• This is the path Verse recommended against following. It is the obvious path that presents itself.
  
• The holy symbol will be of his own design and commission? Next point of inquiry here.

When the story was finished Bartimaeus was pleasantly surprised at Yshtar's positive reaction. ~~ Exceeds expectations, ~~ he thought.

"Thank you, Tegan Adalondar. It is truly a humbling experience to come into such close contact with the divine -- I congratulate you -- but particularly so when one has not prepared for the communion. You seem to have responded with virtue and vigor, no doubt to the frustration of your father? I hope that gulf has not become unbridgeable, but sacrifices in pursuit of the Good are necessary, don't you think?

"But this conversation started with the symbol around your neck. A bespoke design of your fashioning? Attained in some other manner?" Bartimaeus stopped walking and looked up the broad steps of the building in front of them. "Ah, here we are. Just a moment; librarians are often quite eager to pass you off to some other functionary. I'll give the docent a question he can't answer and wonder aloud if the resources might be available elsewhere in the city. "

Tegan smiled at Yshtar's comment about being surprised that he had told his tale to "complete strangers." "Well, I resisted at first, but Bartimaeus wished to know why I was interested in the 'Blood and Honor' catchphrase. And I saw no harm in the telling. I have nothing to hide."

"And as to that original visitation being an 'otherworldly creature' . . . I have always felt that 'twas my Patron, but in truth it could have been a messenger -- and I have no idea as to their point of origin."

~So, Yshtar has had dealings with hostile "otherwordly creatures"? Methinks that is a tale -- or mayhap a series of them -- that is worth hearing, when time allows.~

Turning his attention to Bartimaeus when the scholar voiced his reaction to the Half-Elf's tale, Tegan saw no point in exploring Mains' response when his son announced his intention of leaving Saltspire and striking out for Tideswallow.

He shrugged his shoulders in response to Bartimaeus' assertion that "Sacrifices in the pursuit of Good are necessary". "Mayhap," Tegan replied, "although as of yet nothing especially onerous has been asked of me. Time will tell, I suppose."

Fingering his holy symbol, Tegan replied to Bartimaeus' inquiry about it by saying "I can see why it puzzled you. I had my father, Mains -- who is a blacksmith of no little skill back in Saltspire, one who can work wonders with metal -- fashion it out of the purest steel, to my specifications. I based its shape on the ball of Light -- the Orb -- that I saw on the night of my original visitation, when I was told that I had been deemed worthy."

Now that the threesome had reached the library and Bartimaeus began discussing his immediate plans, Tegan spoke up. "As to all that, I have a Writ of Passage to get me inside the Office District, where I understand the Archives to be located. Unfortunately, 'tis writ to justify entry into the District by one, I do believe. I am to deliver a tome to one Lady Shadesworn, as a courtesy -- an errand for someone who was leaving town forthwith."

The Half-Elf thought for a moment. "I can try to convince the gate-guard, or whomever we are dealing with, that the 'one' refers to all three of us, since we are all together. If the guard is bored, disinterested, or something of a lack-wit, that might work."

"However, if he or she is inquisitive,  the question might arise as to why it takes three of us to deliver one volume -- at which point one of you might need to pipe up with a plausible reason, for I am hard-pressed to think of one off the top of my head."

"But I am willing to give it a try, if you two are so inclined. Or, you can follow through with your original plan to gain a Writ for you and Yshtar if you prefer, Bartimaeus."

In reply to Tegan (msg # 100):

Looking back over the writ, you note that while it doesn’t specifically specify a number of individuals who may utilize it, it does say in several places “agent of the library” in singular. You suspect that, with a descent enough bit of deception in the matter, you would be able to talk your way through with a pair of companions in tow. The more believable the story of who those two are and why they are accompanying you, the easier it would likely be...

In reply to GM (msg # 101):

After a short pause, Tegan pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shook his head. "You know," he said to Yshtar and Bartimaeus, "I have just now thought of a reason why my idea -- the 'three for one' gambit -- will not work."

"It so happens that I have recently sworn a series of vows, one of which is Honesty. And while I do not believe that my plan involves an outright lie, it is nonetheless an active attempt to deceive one who is, insofar as we know, not an evil person -- that is to say, the gate-guard."

"I know not whether my Patron would find fault with such actions, but after having sworn my Oath, I do not wish to shave the Truth so closely. Bartimaeus, I do believe that puts us back to your procuring a separate Writ for yourself and Yshtar."

"Or . . ." After another short pause, Tegan spoke again. "If that proves to be not possible, I suppose that I could entrust the Writ and the errand to you, Bartimaeus. I will freely admit that I am no scholar, and if only one of us can gain entry to the Archives in order to conduct research, methinks that it should be you."

"In return, I ask only that you share your findings with me, be they good or ill."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:44, Sat 21 Nov 2020.

"Hahaha! You are surely not a scholar!" Bartimaeus said with surprise and wonder. "No scholar ever had scruples enough to allow someone else to take the credit for making a discovery. It shouldn't be too much trouble; just a moment, please."

Bartimaeus briefly blessed himself and walked into the library to present himself at the front desk.

"Good morning. Blessings of the Lord of Knowledge upon you. I am Brother-Scholar Bartimaeus Gianakos of the Oghmanic Monastery of Q'kwarm. My abbot has granted me the privilege to spend my sabbatical year abroad here in Tideswallow. I am led to understand that the city archives are located in the Office District, that access to the district is restricted, but that a writ of passage from the city library would grant conditional access to those archives. Would you please issue me and my assistant such a writ?"

He took from his pack a letter of introduction. "Here are my bona fides, if they are required."

---

OOC:
12:34, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 17 using 1d20+1d4+2.  Persuasion, Librarian.
Cloistered Scholar Background Feature: Library Access

Yshtar, if you want to come along to present yourself that's cool too; I didn't want to god-mode your presence.

Yshtar patiently waited as Bartimaeus and Tegan talked. When Tegan offered his writ of passage to the priest of Oghma she was honestly taken back how good hearted and how naive the half-elf was. Unless of course he was an agent of whomever was angry at Bartimaeus. But the guy could just be the most trusting soul in the world. Which was fine of course except if he met Barty's friends and decided to smite them disregarding his own survival. This is a bridge we'll cross if we get there.
She didn't join the priest but instead turned toward the Tegan once Bartimaeus went to the front office, waving the believer of Oghma off to do the thing he was good at.

"This is quite noble of you Tegan. To give up a writ of passage for two people you just met. What would you do if Bartimaeus just ran off with your knowledge or didn't share what he learnt?"

In reply to Yshtar (msg # 104):

"I'm glad that you stayed outside," Tegan responded to Yshtar. "It was a long walk from Saltshire, and most of the time I had only myself for company. 'Tis pleasant to have someone else to talk to."

The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of the Half-Elf's mouth as he added "And I'm sure that I have more in common with you -- another warrior -- than I do with Brother Bartimaeus. Whate'er I may turn out to be, I feel fairly certain that I shall ne'er be much of a scholar."

Getting around to answering Yshtar's inquiry, Tegan frowned and asked "As to Bartimaeus' double-crossing me, how fast can he run? Could I chase him down and kill him?" For a moment he was able to maintain his stern expression, then he started laughing.

"Hells, I don't know," he said after a moment. "I only arrived in town a little earlier this morning, and I haven't gotten very far in my inquiries. And it's not like I could really put my Writ to good use, if left to my own devices."

"I would give myself myself mayhap half an hour of wandering through the Archives with a dull look on my face before boredom and tedium o'erwhelm me and I run screaming from the building."

"So, what am I really risking? Not much, in my estimation."

Within the warehouse-like building that passes for the public library, you find a tall drow woman with a stern expression manning the front desk. She eyes you with a dismissive sort of contempt. “Curious. The acolytes of Ogham have not made their presence known in our city for some time now. Am I to take it that this is a sign of things to come?

She reviews the letter a moment and nods. Retrieving a small scrap of parchment from the drawer on her side of the desk, she scribbles out a quick, barely legible writ of passage that will allow one strictly limited access to the Office District. It specifies your presence will be expected at the Archives and that if you are spotted deviating from the path you are to be apprehended. “Don’t make the mistakes your brotherly predecessors did. If you find something in the Archives that interests you, you ASK someone for it. You don’t go stuffing it into a satchel and try bullrushing your way out the door with it...”

She sends you off with a wave of one hand, barely even looking your way as she does it.

---

Thanks to your background, the difficulty of the roll for Persuasion needed in this case is significantly reduced.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:37, Sat 21 Nov 2020.

"Certainly Madame. If it is any consolation, the penance paid by Brother-Cleric Restim for that indiscretion remains a cautionary tale passed between novices hardly needing embellishment. Good morning." As he walked away he scanned the scrawl to check that Yshtar is included in its allowance.

Bartimaeus walked out to Yshtar and Tegan, writ in hand. "Good news for the honest man of Saltshire: compliance with local ordinance won't inordinately inhibit us. This will grant us access, but narrowly: they will be expecting us at the Archives; failure to appear will trigger the issue of a warrant for arrest.

"Shall we go? Four blocks to the north-west I believe."

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 107):

"That is good news," Tegan replied to Bartimaeus' tidings.

"I see no practical problem with our trek being limited to the Archives. That is where I was headed, in any event."

"However, I do find it a bit unusual to have my comings and goings so tightly constrained. I wonder what it is that the leaders of this city fear, that they must keep the inhabitants and visitors on such a short leash?"

"Strange opening hours they have." Yshtar raised an eyebrow. "Open now but if we don't go they arrest us? Is this your way of joking?"

She definitely wasn't sure whether the priest of Oghma was joking or not. At any rate the plated woman started walking towards the Archives.

"My apologies, I was unclear.

"It seems the rulers of the city don't care so much about leashes unless the dogs get in their backyard, as a manner of speaking. Nor is it the opening hours: while they recognize the prudence of providing commoners some means of entry, they will tightly monitor those they do allow within. The Archives will be open all day, but our presence in the district is conditional on our destination being the Archives. Otherwise we'll be nicked, as they say, for false pretenses."

---

OOC:
Shall we jump threads, DM?

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 110):

By all means. Office District General thread should work fine for this.

Beyond the walls, in the farmlands outside the city, a portal suddenly ripped open a hole in mid-air and a feminine figure stumbled through. She staggered forward a few paces, struggling to catch her footing, turning back just in time to see the portal snap closed. She was a lithe and graceful-looking woman, an elf if the cast of her features and pointed ears could be believed, and she wore traveling clothes and leather armor of an unremarkable but well-made cut. A rapier graced her left hip, a dagger hung on her right, and a shortbow hung off her shoulder next to a bulging pack. "Well that's... unfortunate," she said out-loud to herself, her lips pursing in annoyance at her bad luck for accidently wandering into an unknown gateway. She looked around to get her bearings, taking in the rolling farmlands and the city walls off in the distance. "Good a place as any to find out where the Nine Hells I am," she shrugged, thankful that at least she'd arrived with all her things. Adjusting her pack higher on her shoulders, she set off at leisurely walk toward the unknown city...

When she entered the city -- Tideswallow if the sign was to be believed -- the first thing she noticed was the smell. "Oh gods!" She exclaimed, pulling up her scarf to cover her nose as saw what seemed to be a cemetery and refuse pit on her right. She quickened her pace as she entertained the thought they should maybe rename the place, "Don'tSwallow". By the time she'd reached what seemed to be the 'Town-Square' the air had cleared enough so that the lingering stench was tolerable enough to lower her scarf. Glancing around at the shops and stalls lining the square, she secured her belongings as well as she could against the undoubtedly-present sticky-fingered types and starting perusing the wares... keeping her eyes and ears open for important details about the going-ons and happenings of this new place she found herself...

In reply to Angel (msg # 112):

No more than a few steps into the Square you become acutely aware of a trio of children following close behind you. Far closer than most of the citizens tend to walk here, as best you can tell. A boy with pale skin and a mess of blonde hair leads another boy and what you presume to be a girl, though the hood of its stiff burlap cloak conceals most of its features. All look to be no more than 8 or 9 years of age.

Noting your eyes catching them, they immediately turn off toward easier, less perceptive prey.

All around you, the city seems to be coming to life even as you enter it. Carts drawn by horses or bored looking oxen meander through the streets. Crowds of people from all walks of life, many looking just as lost and out of place as you this morning, wander the various avenues and boulevards between the tall walls that separate the more affluent districts from the common. Numerous shops and business are open throughout the square and a street you spot to the north appeasers to lead into a more decoratively-focused portion of the city; with numerous bars, taverns, inns, and brothels lining its twisting lamp-strung paths.

Directly around you, you pass a few beggars looking for a handout. A town crier calling out a long list of novelties going on throughout the town today. A lone black cat hurdling its way up and along the stacks of crates near some of the buildings heading north; making its way into the Entertainment District along the edges of the rooftops. A nobleman surrounded by a large crowd of farmers is making his way toward the gates of the Office District, clearly doing his best to calm the growing mob around him. A bespectacled bard is playing a bewitching tune to a group of captivated individuals on a street corner. And a tall woman in black, metallic-looking robes is leading a small band of recruits toward the Adventurer’s Guild in the Town Square.

All of this unfolds around you in a matter of seconds as your sharp eyes latch on to every last bit of movement...

Without being too obvious about it, the elf woman watched the children — whom she’d marked as some of those sticky-fingered types — until she lost them in the crowd. Soon thereafter she saw the beggars and an idea came to mind. Making her way over to one of the stalls that sold food, the she-elf bought a loaf of bread and a couple pieces of fruit. She returned to where she’d seen the beggars, and picking one of the older-looking beggars at random, she approached and sat beside them. She held out one of the pieces of fruit for them to take. ”Will you share my bread, grand[mother/father]?”

In reply to Angel (msg # 114):

The old woman looks up at you with a look of thanks and utter confusion, nodding in as deep a bow as she can muster to you. She shuffles away from the main streets of the square and into an alleyway with her prize. You can see other shapes in the alley with her; most nearly as hunched and ragged looking as she was. One, makes his way over to you, a gnarled cane tapping the ground in front of him as he hobbles up. He peers at you with eyes tied tight behind a set of bandages.

His voice is hollow and gravelly, his accent thick with the salt of the southern shorelines. A sailor at one point, you suspect. Though not for quite some time now. The hump on his back, concealed by all manner of belts and rags and tattered fabrics, you suddenly realize is something more akin to a tortoise’s shell than a human deformity. His skin is a mottled brownish green; nearly completely obscured by the numerous wrappings covering nearly inch of him. The hard, beak-like snout beneath his eye-wraps and the long-clawed digits that suffice as fingers are the only immediate indications you can see that mark him as something besides one of the other human-looking beggars gathered there. “She will indeed, child. Though she’s not got the tongue left to thank you properly. Nor the ears to listen. Even if she had, most of the sense left her mind long enough ago it wouldn’t matter... but mayhaps I and mine could make up the slack. Where do ya hail from, girl? To where are ya wandering?”

"Here, there and yon," the elf woman answered cryptically, not caring to reveal that she came through a magical portal and possibly from another world. "But nevertheless I'm new to this place here -- Tideswallow is it? -- and it seems I might be here for a while yet. I'd like to pay my respects..." she added, bowing her head slightly as she held out the other piece of fruit for the turtle-man to take. "... to the aged and learned, and ask the wise if there might be a place where I can earn my keep during my stay."

In reply to Angel (msg # 116):

The tortle takes your offering and bows his head in kind. “Your keep ya can earn here, there, and yon. ‘Round these parts, though, it’s a court your wantin’ to be wary of. The law-master’s court is fair to those with the means to buy fairness. The court the Council keeps is full of yes-men and leeches. The Court of Eyes ya want nothing to do with; best not even speak the name... But the court ya might find below ground. Now that one might fancy one like yourself. The resourceful type. The Silhouette’s always got her eyes out for new feelers. Talent, if ya ken. You’ll be wantin’ The Roe, the real one. Down below the streets. Not the rundown district that stands above it.”

He points back toward where you passed the cemetery. The pit. The unwelcoming scents.

A few of the other beggars nod in unison with his words as he splits the food up amongst them. “She’s an intimidating presence, the Lady of the Sunless. They call her Silhouette for more reasons than one. Best make sure you’ve your wits about ya, should ya pay her a visit down in the Sunless Solarium. Don’t want to make a poor first impression. Good coin in it for those she accepts...”

He goes to settle back amongst the others, clearly feeling he’s given enough for what he’s received.

The elf woman moved to crouch down in front of the turtle-man, reaching out to set three gold coins on the ground before him. ”Thank you grandfather for sharing bread with me. I answer to Angel, and I would be glad to share bread with you another time, should the Fates see our paths cross again. One more question, if you please, if you were to visit Lady Silhouette, what gift would you bring her to avoid a poor impression?”

In reply to Angel (msg # 118):

“A pleasure, young miss. Call me Iso, if the urge should take ya. Always happy to cross paths with the charitable sort.”  He thinks on your question a moment, seeming to weigh the words before he speaks them. “Information. The Lady of the Sunless has a great deal of resources at her beck and call... within the city. If ya bring her tidings from the world outside her little bottle here on the coast, she’s likely to be far more welcoming. Not any warmer, mind ya, but welcoming. If you been travelin’ a while, she’d likely wanna know just about anything of interest ya came across on the way. Who knows? Any little hook might wind up catching if ya drag it along the bottom long enough.”

"Thanks for tip, Iso," Angel repeated, favoring the turtle-man with an impish smile as she reached out to take his clawed hand. "Charity's for those with hearts bigger than mine," she replied, probably one of the most revealing things she'd said about herself in a long time. "But I help those who help me, and now in my book that includes you and your beggars." She stood again, adjusting the satchel she wore across her shoulders. "Provided my meeting with Lady Silhouette goes well, I'm sure we'll have the chance to share bread again."

After listening to Iso's reply (if any), Angel turned and exited the alleyway, heading back toward the cemetery and the stench-filled pit to look for a way to access Silhouette's domain...

OOC: switch to another thread, DM?

In reply to Angel (msg # 120):

The way is crowded and narrow as you near the cemetery. Passing between a pair of delapidated structures that may once have been some manner of temples, you enter the city’s expansive graveyard and make your way toward the open cobblestone square of the Roe beyond.

-From here, feel free to continue on to the General district thread for The Roe.-