At the northern end of town one can find Tideswallow’s famed Entertainment District. A beautiful maze of inns, spas, taverns, and pleasure houses. Cabarets and theaters stand tall and splendid amidst the more ordinary buildings around them. Yet the entire quarter gives off a welcoming, well-maintained air; all lit at night by a serene series of red, purple, and blue stained glass street lamps.

The only real eyesore of note is the Bard College meeting hall at the very north-most end of the district. Once the shining jewel of the city’s cultural extravagance, the hall now stands abandoned; its final leading members having left the town for bigger, more popular cities over a decade ago. While Lord Sulthor van Ellsworth, the City Council’s Lord of Entertainment, has made sure to keep the building standing as a historical site, there simply isn’t enough interest from the disillusioned populace to actually maintain its intended purpose. Still, its interior is open to the public and much of the inside is precisely as it was when it was abandoned. Occasionally, looters may even come across some piece of music or forgotten instrument left by the former residents.

So much of the inside is locked by magical means or intricate mechanism that there has never been much need to actually guard what remains within. Besides, it was always the College’s intention to make their lore and music available to all who needed it...
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:57, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

The door creaked open and Bartimaeus grinned. ~~ Promising! ~~ he thought at the mysterious outset of his tenure here.

Pausing to take a torch out of his pack, he whispered a few words and fire sprang forth. [Druidcraft: ignite torch] He walked in and shouted, "Hello!" but to no immediate answer.

Taking care to keep the torch away from the flammable books and cobwebs, the shelves were of particular interest. Over the next half our he reviewed what remained of the spines and the colophon when necessary, looking for whatever might grab his attention. A history of Bogenwald here, a first edition Kaulinka there; soon he decided he needed dedicated space, and he cleared a section on the table of dust and webs for those books he'd take down first.

"There's no reason to wait, you know," he said to the silence of the College. "You have been waiting long enough for a chronicler. I dare say you have a story yet to tell amongst all this lore..." Silence answered him.

Having taken a dozen books from the shelves he placed them on one of the large tables, and drew a candle from his pack. Uncertain whether to light it and begin reading Bartimaeus decided otherwise, and took his torch towards the shadowy arch opposite the entry doors. "You have my thanks for the entry. Is there naught else you would say?"

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 2):

Over the course of your search, you come across few tomes or scrolls that seem of any immediate importance. The shelves here have clearly been picked through by other interested parties throughout the course of the years that have gone by since the building was abandoned. However, you are no mere looter or seeker of quick coin through pawnable volumes. You know better than to dismiss any source of knowledge as useless. Time would tell whether your patience had led to anything worthwhile this time around, but the sheer size of the pile you managed to gather from what had, at first glance, appeared to be such a pitiful assortment on the shelves certainly gives you some confidence.

Before you get to it, however, there is the matter of the rest of the meeting hall. The gaping corridor at the far end of the main chamber certainly seems promising. And while your spoken words toward it return only the faintest echo of your own voice, the depth of the shadows therein provides a sense of excitement all its own. In the immediate light of your torch, you can make out a pair of doors on either side of the hallway about 10ft ahead of you. But the corridor continues on much further than that. You strain your eyes to see what else lies further in before committing to your choice to move in or not.

(Make a Perception check of both the main chamber and this far hallway, This can be two separate checks or one of each, as you see fit.)

The dim light of the torch goes not much further than the doors on either side. ~~ No, no. These things I don't need. ~~ Bartimaeus reminds himself, and turns around to put his pack on the table.

Looking between his options, he left his crossbow on the table with the rest of the gear and brings his crosier. ~~ In these corridors if anything comes upon me suddenly I won't be too far from it! ~~

Quickly glancing around the main hall once more he headed down the passage, stopping only briefly to check if the doors were locked, and walked further down the hallway into the inky darkness.

---

OOC:
04:37, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Perception, corridor.
04:37, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Perception, main hall.
Welp, let's just get these rolls out of the way!

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 4):

While the corridor itself holds the majority of your attention, you can’t help but spare a glance back at the front doors you came through. At some point while you’ve been checking shelves, the doors silently closed themselves behind you. What’s more, as you take note of the main chamber’s dimly lit interior, you happen to notice that the windows looking out upon the street are completely intact and fogged over. You could have sworn that, while looking at  the building from outside, you remembered seeing the very same windows smashed and shattered while the glass that remained being clear as day.

It is curious, but not of immediate concern.

More pressing is the matter of the doors. Both locked! Yet as you draw near the one on the right, the light of your torch touches upon another further down the hallway on the same side. Looking closer, you can see more of them; little rooms with doors of varying shapes, sizes, and material all lining both sides of the hallway. A few lay open, but most are shut against the gloom of the corridor. You assume these too to be locked, but won’t know for sure unless you try them...

Bartimaeus stood looking down the corridor like looking into eternity. ~~ Stories don't end; why should this hallway? ~~ Turning back momentarily he wondered if he would lose his chance to read the tomes he'd brought and decided it didn't matter: the Void that Calls wouldn't appear so quickly so soon after his arrival, surely not, but if it did some few hours reading wouldn't change anything.

Nevertheless, time and care must be taken. He pulled a small pellet of incense from his pouch and placed it in the small censer dangling from his crosier. Igniting the pellet and snuffing the torch, he knelt on the floor and offered supplication to the Lord of Knowledge and its shadow, the Void that Calls, in an ancient tongue long forgotten. He allowed silence to surround him as the censer breathed purifying wisps down the hallway and waited the long minutes until the incense expired.

Rising quickly and igniting his torch with a word he rapped at the locked door on the right. "I am summoned and shall be summoned who summon you to yield this portal!" A moment later he turned and repeated the directive at the locked door on the right. "I am summoned and shall be summoned who summon you to yield this portal!"

Waiting a moment longer Bartimaeus walked down the hallway to the next door, checking the handle then repeating his declaration. "I am summoned and shall be summoned who summon you to yield this portal!"

So he began down the hallway.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 6):

Locked.

Locked.


Locked.



Locked.




All damnably locked by some manner of mechanism or spellcraft! Some had a definite arcane aspect to them; with a fleeting rune or two briefly glowing upon the doorknob or empty nameplate nailed to the door. The two doors which had been left wide open proved to be little more than entrances to empty chambers; tiny square rooms no bigger than broom closets.... in fact, upon further inspection of them left little doubt in the mind that that is exactly what at least one of them had been. The other was perhaps a pantry before it had been left to the dust and darkness.  Room after room from there proved to be locked and barred to any entry.

All but one. After almost 45 minutes of trying door after door, one finally seemed to heed the call of a speaker for the Lord of Knowledge. OrR perhaps for the Void that Calls? It was unclear. What was clear as day, however, was that the door was locked one moment, then with a sudden CLICK sprang ajar after hearing the words spoken.

Through the crack in doorway, all that could be seen was a room not much bigger than the little pantry. This one, however, still held some of its furnishings. A writing desk with a few drawers rests against one wall. A single chair sits before it, leaning heavily to one side on three legs, while its fourth lays askew on the floor beside it, broken at the head. A large map is fused to one wall, displaying the entire region wherein Tideswallow lies. Map

The rest of the room seems mostly empty. A few stray scraps of paper lie about here and there, but are blank. A book rests upon the top of the desk, but its pages are all torn out. Only the leather-bound cover remains.

"Your servant offers his thanks. May his hands be ever guided by thine."

Bartimaeus entered the small room touching nothing but with his eyes. He examineed the map on the wall, the craftsmanship of the chair and secretary, and the thickness of the torn pages on the floor. ~~ What was it caused this chair to break? ~~ he asked himself looking at the broken leg. ~~ Violence? Haste? Decrepitude? ~~ Satisfying himself in what is merely to be seen, he pulled out his small penknife and delicately poked and prodded, taking care not to pierce anything, but testing to see what would open and what would not.

The expaginated leather binding received the first tactile investigation, turning it back and forth looking for title, author, or any information of that sort. He picked up one of the ripped sheets to see if the fiber lattice matched that of what remained glued to the inside of the book.

Again satisfied, he folded his penknife and replaced it within his pouch, and ran delicate fingers around the two focuses of attention in the room: the strangely fused map and the desk. He had a pet theory that wall hangings had been invented to conceal cavities placed in walls, and certainly secretaries were common homes to false bottoms and hidden compartments. Little wonder if he might find something of interest...

---

OOC:
Cast Guidance
16:05, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 26 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Investigation, map room.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 8):

The chair leg proves to be exactly as it seems, though it does strike you as odd that the chair itself has not tumbled over in all the time its been left to sit here. Judging by the arcane nature of the door, it wouldn’t be entirely beyond reason to think that some simple enchantment could be keeping the chair standing on its own. Either way, it is of little consequence to your search as it stands.

The pieces of parchment seem to be torn from a book, but upon comparing them to the remnants within the leather binding, none seem to match. The leather cover contains the final fragments of lined vellum, while the parchment on the floor is simple paper. The cover itself appears to have no discernible markings of any kind that you can make out. Outside. Inside. On the spine. Nothing...

Turning your attention to the map, however, finally bears fruit. Drawing closer you can now see that it is far less of a “wall hanging” so much as part of the wall that has been entirely replaced by heavy canvas map. It fits so perfectly to the wall itself it is as though it has been fused directly to it. There is no way to lift it or peel it off, but as you prod at it a bit you can definitely an indent behind the upper right portion of it. The rest is covering nothing but stone. But the portion directly under Tideswallow and the harbor conceal some manner of hollow behind them. Whoever put it here likely thought themselves supremely clever hiding it in such a way... the poor fool.

The scraps of paper were gathered and placed within the binding; he'd remove them later and place them on the long tables in the entry hall for more examination later. Perhaps the old trick of lemon-ink was popular among a clown here at the College, and what seemed blank would bear fruit.

Bartimaeus smiled to himself as his fingers discover the secret concealed by the map. ~~ And Brother Harrult thought my little anthropological hypothesis was in jest! Perhaps the desk will be as fruitful... ~~ Taking the penknife back out from his belt he carefully cut into the canvas around the image of Tideswallow to reveal what waited behind.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 10):

Removing a portion of the map, you uncover a small recess carved into the stone wall of the chamber. It only goes back about a foot, but it is more than big enough to hide a bit of intrigue. Specifically, a stick, a copper orb that fits in the palm of your hand, a single page of parchment which matches up with the torn portions from the leather cover, and a tiny pouch of coins.

The coin pouch contains 10 bronze coins and 4 gold coins stamped with insignias from a land you are unfamiliar with. The face on one side is depicted head on; displaying a woman with wild hair and long viper fangs jutting from her grinning face. On the reverse side of each is a single rune; a cross-crossing helix on the bronze pieces and a an X embedded in an eye on the gold. You’ve never encountered bronze coins before, but you’re confident the gold ones at least could be worth something.

The page of parchment hold a strange arcane formula upon it which doesn’t immediately make sense to you as you try to work it out. On the reverse side of the expensive velum sheet, you find a crude drawing. A stick figure humanoid, crouched within the confines of a half-circle. What you assume to be rain or projectiles are bouncing off the outside of it, while the figure’s own arrows are being shot through it from the inside at the unseen attackers beyond. It’s... not of any particular quality, but there does still seem to be enough of a narrative to be able to follow.

The copper ball is strange, but seems unimpressive upon closer inspection. One hemisphere is smooth and flawless, while the other half is carved with a flanged pattern, almost appearing to be an aperture of some manner. Yet no matter what you do, it remains still and refuses to open.

The stick is a stick. About a foot long and devoid of bark thanks to a skilled hand and a whittling knife. You suspect this was originally intended to be a wand, but the crafter never finished it. It is unclear exactly what its purpose was, but you’re confident it is not completed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:30, Mon 21 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus looked back at the leather cover. "This was your spellbook. Destroyed. But why, I wonder. Why would you preserve these particular formulae? And you a wizard within a College of Bards. These coins of your country of origin, perhaps? What is she: a medusa? a Yuanti? ... a vampire? And this..." he weighed the orb in his palm, "this curiosity. Hiding something further within, maybe." Tucking the items in deep pockets he pulled out a candle and melted the tip, letting the drip fall on the stone at the bottom edge of the cavity. He took the canvas flap and pressed it into the wax, if not completely concealing the nook, at least making it less visible to curious eyes.

"A wizard within the College. This place had pretenses as a tourist attraction, did it not? There will be an up-jumped salesman who fancies himself an historian; he'll be of little use, but records he might have, and in those records may be your name. We shall see in due time. First things first..." he finished and turned his attention to the writing desk.

Having recently returned to this city after an absence of eleven years, Vesryn had set himself up in the long abandoned Bard Meeting Hall. To his surprise and amazement, his old room was as he had left it and still keyed to him. Quickly making himself at home once again in this room and city of his birth.

The last several weeks had been spent getting familiar with the city once again, much had changed in the last eleven years location wise and businesses yet the dynamics of the city was much the same.

Leaving his room as quietly as possible, to keep it's location a secret for as long as possible.
08:26, Today: Vesryn rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Stealth.

Once out in the hallway, he makes his way to where the tenured bards had once resided.
"Let's see if we can get lucky, having one of those bigger rooms would be perfect." Making his way there alert for anything of danger or interest.

08:31, Today: Vesryn rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  perception.

The writing desk stood before him, but Bartimaeus froze upon hearing the creak of a door and the click of a lock. [Passive Perception 12] Not that those were strange sounds in a hallway of doors such as this but the College had been to this point silent as the grave.

~~ I am a scholar and an antiquarian, and I have plainly announced my presence here, ~~ he thought. ~~ Best to carry on being plain. ~~

Leaving the desk for a moment Bartimaeus put his head into the hallway, looking this way and that, seeing nothing.

"It is upon the warrant of the Lord of Knowledge and the invitation of the College itself that I am present. Make yourself plain, assist me in my task if you credit the College's reputation, or leave me to my work!" he announced to the dark corridor. After a moment's silence he returned to his search of the writing desk.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:15, Sat 12 Sept 2020.

As Vesryn begins making his way toward the larger rooms and their sure-to-be-locked doors, the call of an unfamiliar voice echoes down the hallway. From exactly which room, it is impossible to tell due to the darkness. It would seem the old enchantments that had kept the interior lit with a constant glow of pale blue fire from every tile of the floor had long since burned out. Either way, you get a fairly good idea of where the voice originated from and could likely find its source easily enough if you cared to. Elsewise the larger rooms awaited in the opposite direction the words had come from.

The voice is unfamiliar to you.

Meanwhile, in the small room he’d been working from, Bartimaeus returns his attention to the desk. There are three drawers upon it, two of which are locked tight. The top one, however, slides open without issue. Inside rests a stack of cheap, untouched parchment, a writing quill, and 5 jars of black ink and one small vial of violet ink. A strange shade to be writing down anything of import with, but fitting enough for an eccentric, you suppose. Excellent for creating flourishes and embellishments.

No sign of a key for the other drawers.

Bartimaeus flipped through the parchment then placed it within the leather bindings along with the quill. The vials of ink he wrapped individually in sheets of paper to prevent their breakage and placed those in pocket as well.

Without a key, the penknife comes out again and he attempted to wedge the blade where he presumed the locking bar would be, but unfortunately the table was too well-made for such simple artifice, and there appeared no means to leverage his strength, such as it was, to force the drawers open.

~~ This room was opened by not my will, but by another's. Is it arrogance to presume access to all within? ~~ he thought, and folding the penknife returned it to its pocket. ~~ A moment's meditation perhaps will guide me. ~~

Seating himself on the floor, he snuffed the torch and plunged the room into darkness; a mote of flame gleamed as another pellet of incense was lit within the censer dangling from the crosier and Bartimaeus closed his eyes in silent thought, his mind lifted outward as sweet odors filled the small room.

---

OOC:
14:17, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Dexterity - Open lock Drawer 1.
14:17, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Dexterity - Open lock Drawer 2.
Woof. Well. Sure would hate for a roguish dex-based character to show up just about now. Lol.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 16):

(OOC: Well that was supremely unfortunate... but the desk isn’t going anywhere so feel free to have another shot at it a bit later. I won’t be able to respond for a bit here, unfortunately, but that just about covers what this room has to offer for the time being. I’ll edit this post into something more useful as soon as i get back in tonight.)

The desk remains firmly shut, its contents still a mystery; though your prodding does reveal a bit of movement from within as several objects are jostled around. A few quick clinks of glass, a soft thud that may have been a book hitting the wood, and in an ironic twist, what sounded for all the world like a set of keys jingling.

Then a new set of noises catches your attention... footfalls. Someone walking closer and closer outside the room. You suspect it is whoever was moving about in the room down the hall.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:25, Sun 13 Sept 2020.

In reply to GM (msg # 17):

[OOC:
Yeah, no worries. Could be Vesryn and I have some conversation ahead of us before a second attempt. And then there’s always Guidance! (Not that 1d4 would have helped much!)]

Seeing the man before him carefully wrap up some stuff before storing it away upon his person."For half of the ink you just stored away, I could try to open the rest of the desk for you for equal shares of what we find. I also know of several better places to try here if you will assist me. I believe we could do very well here today, might even surprise you what we find."

The Half elf, is not using any light source to navigate his way around.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:27, Sun 13 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus froze in his collection of the inks and looked at the elfish presence in the doorway. ~~ A mercenary. They possess some virtue, ~~ he thought. Keeping his eyes on the newcomer he placed three of the black inks on the table.

"I am afraid you will render me the greater share of what is found, for I understand the value of knowledge and the poverty of wealth, and I presume the latter is what you desire." Standing back to allow the man room, he began to pray aloud.

    Blessed be Thy Name, All-seeing, All-knowing;
    Blessed be Thy Hand, succor of the ignorant;
    Guide the mind and hands of this man towards success
    that we may offer praise in the knowledge gained
    and better understand Your Mysteries.

When the newcomer entered the room, Bartimaeus slowly lifted his empty hand and placed his palm on his shoulder. "Rejoice, and embrace enlightenment."

---

OOC:
Cast Guidance: enjoy +1d4 on your rolls, Vesryn!

The half elf enters the room and gathers up the ink that was offered, "Vesryn, is the name. " looks to the desk. "The second drawer is the mail system, might be something in it though. Give me a few and will see what I can do about those locks."

He proceeds to take out a lockpick from his pouch. First he works on the first drawer before looking at the mailbox drawer.

01:38, Today: Vesryn rolled 14,4 using 1d20+4,1d4.  To open the desk drawers 1.

01:39, Today: Vesryn rolled 18,4 using 1d20+4,1d4.  To open the desk drawers 2.

"How did you get into this room, they are usually locked and secured. If you take the time and get lucky, you might get it attuned to you so you can use it."

"Brother Bartimaeus, Vesryn. As for how I entered the room, it was the same way I entered the Hall: I asked."

The smile didn't touch his eyes.

"I asked, and the College answered."

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 21):

Despite his best efforts, the second drawer remained locked. The third however, suddenly clicked open after only the slightest twist of the lock pick.

A distinct scent of ozone wafted out of the drawer as it opened. Inside lies exactly what you had heard upon jostling the desk. A pair of books. Two glass bottles each containing a single dose of some crystal clear syrupy liquid. And finally a small ring of keys, too small to fit the desk’s lock. They look to be more in line with the simple locks you have occasionally seen on certain tomes, diaries, and spellbooks in the past.

The two books appear to be perfectly mundane in nature. One is a history book detailing the Tenebrian Empire’s origins, the other what appears to be short novel entitled Darker Than Night by Alestor Verse (depending on how zealous of a reader your character is, this name may be a familiar to you or completely meaningless).
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:18, Fri 25 Sept 2020.

Vesryn, feeling quite pleased with himself with the unlocking of one of the drawers and it's revealing contents.

The first things that he inspects are the books, covers, then opens them to read a bit.

While he is dealing with the books, "Bartimaeus, what do you think of the liquids. ? "

Bartimaeus pulls the cork out of a vial, sniffs it, then daubs a bit on his finger. After checking the viscosity between thumb and forefinger he tastes it.

The history book is written in a form of elvish you recognize as being used mainly by drow. Specifically, Tenebrian drow from the capital of the Empire. With a bit of skimming, it’s not hard to see that this isn’t exactly a proper recounting of events so much as it is a propaganda piece. Tenebria in its early days was certainly the victim and underdog; existing under the control of other major nations as a slave state. However, after a long and bloody revolution, they transitioned into being the one subjugating others; conquering whole regions of the continent through show of force and cunning statecraft.... This book leaves out those finer details and basically just paints Tenebria as a nation that went from nothing to greatness with minimal bloodshed; And which then formed a peaceful coexistence with its many new holdings as a benevolent seat of centralized power.

The second book is written in common and is heavily worn and tattered. Its likely seen a lot of reading and has been passed between many hands. It is a novelized recounting of a group’s journey into the Underdark, with the party of naive adventurers slowly falling to madness as they rest in the safety of a protective spell. One by one, the flee from the defensive barrier, confident that their comrades mean to betray them; only to then vanish into the darkness beyond. There's no proper villain to the story. No  monsters. No combat or bloodshed of any kind. Just a group of people who weren’t prepared for the mental stresses of the darker places of the world, slowly letting their own imaginations undo them.  The author’s name is familiar to any who have an interest in fiction. Alestor Verse is a fairly well-known writer of adventure tales and, more recently, smutty love novels that see he tries to work adventure and action scenes into. This appears to be one of his earlier works.

The ink, as you taste it, strangely tastes of nothing at all. It is as if you are touching your tongue to particularly thick air. It isn’t until you look down at your finger that you realize its effect. The tip of your finger which had made contact with the liquid has vanished. You can still feel it there, but any part of it that the liquid got onto is completely and perfectly invisible. It is a bit unsettling at first, but once you understand it was merely invisibility and not a corrosive agent disintegrating the flesh, it becomes far easier to look at without feeling uncomfortable with.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:19, Fri 25 Sept 2020.

“Ah. Potions of Invisibility.” he said flatly. He offered them both to Vesryn. “Am I mistaken about what you believe is valuable?”

He turned his attention to the books. “We have a wizard preparing for an expedition to the Underside, yes. History to know what tales the dark elves tell themselves, and this novel. Hmmm. I confess to not knowing elvish history as well as I might, and this account will offer interesting lies to compare to the lies I’ve already read. But this? Popular fiction?” Bartimaeus flipped through the pages looking for marginalia and dog-eared pages, ending by placing the book spine down on the desk and allowing the book to fall open to that page it had been most accustomed to opening upon. As he scanned the text of that page he muttered, “What truth did you think these pages held?” He pulled out the vellum page recovered from the wall cavity and looked again at the drawing on the reverse. “Were you heading into the dark as you drew this? If so, why did you leave it here? Unless you departed prematurely. Or unwillingly...?”

Bartimaeus looked up and cleared his throat. “Ah, my apologies, Vesryn. You are still here. Of course you are, silly me. Tell me: if the College attunes itself to its residents, are you aware of a roster upon which we might find our absent wizard’s name?”

---

OOC:
You get the potions, I the books and keys?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:36, Sun 13 Sept 2020.

"I have interest in knowledge like you as well, but in this instance if you like I will take the potions. Given time to search and study I am sure that I can gather some information on the occupant of this room. He then gathers the ink vials and two potions and walks to the door but before leaving it he puts them in a small box on a ledge,_{"Room 113"} as he turns back to Bartimaeus the items that were in the box have suddenly disappeared.

"When we are finished here, I know where several of the larger residence rooms are at which I would like to try. If we can get lucky the opportunities that await us could be huge."

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 28):

Reflecting on your knowledge of the strange demiplane magic the College’s creators favored utilizing, you’re confident any attempt to refit an existing room to a new occupant would be impossible with the level of magic you are currently capable of wielding... but you would also know that this is, first and foremost, a BARD college. Strength of magic is nice for wizards and the like who favor prim and proper order dictating their means of learning. For the bards here, however, it was all about figuring out how to cut corners and get the most out of the simplest solutions. You are confident that, were you able to gain access to the higher-ups chambers, you would be able to find something that could make the process possible... assuming it hasn’t been stolen already or taken with the masters when they left the college to rot.

Bartimaeus walked over to the box and peered in. "Curious mechanism. This will be an inter-office parcel delivery system, will it? No doubt limited in what it can safely convey. Nevertheless, possibilities suggest themselves...

"Yes, Vesryn, I think we shall do well here, though I do not seek to permanently ensconce myself; I am a visitor here at the pleasure of the College ... or whatever master it serves. It would not do to overstay." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, muttering an incantation on the exhale. "Shall we pay attention to the remaining compartment?"

---

OOC:
I'll cast Guidance, and will use my actions to aid you. That'll give you advantage on your next open lock check, and then add d4 to that.

Vesryn  once again tries the lock on  the final drawer with the assistance form his companion.

Once again his skill with tyhe lock pick is evident as it is done with some skill and obvious experience.

14:24, Today: Vesryn rolled 1 using 1d4.  guidance.

14:23, Today: Vesryn rolled 19 using 2d20+4, dropping the lowest dice only.  Open locks with assist.

So total roll with guidance was a 20.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 31):

Immediately as the lock clicks open, the drawer itself shoots outward and a small creature launches out from within; heeding the two of you for a split second with beady eyes seething with an almost palpable hatred. Its body is only about two feet in length, from the tip of its horns to the end of the large scorpion-like stinger on its segmented tail. It has the slender, thin-muscled body of a sprinter and its face is practically chiseled to be a physical manifestation of mistrust. It appears bipedal, leaping out of the drawer on two legs and landing crouched upon the edge of the drawer as it stares you down. Its hands and feet end in sharpened claws which it flexes nervously at you both as it plots its next move. Seemingly deciding two full-sized humanoids are more than it wants to deal with, it lounges for the space between you both, aiming to dart out the door before either of you can stop it.

"I can use your help here, Bartimaeus."
He then quickly blocks the way of the creature with his hands outstretched to be as non threatening as possible. "Don't be afraid, we  will not hurt you. Just stay awhile  with us, if you want to still leave I won't stop or hurt you. Right now you are safe with us, there is no need to fear anything."

15:01, Today: Secret Roll: Vesryn rolled 25 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 20,18.  persuasion with advantage if assisted.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 33):

The creature tries its best to get passed, but between the two of you it proves to be an impossible task. Desperate, it tries going over you both, leaping up and spreading its leathery, bat-like wings... only to find that they are unable to support it. You suspect it has been trapped within the drawer for quite some time and has moved very little in the interim.

“   ‘Stay?’ You say?  ‘Stay a while?’ I’ve stayed! Stayed too long! I leave! I leave now! ”

It glares up at you both from the floor, claws and stinger poised to strike at a moment’s notice. Yet it seems wholly aware that it is outmatched here and really has no option but to hold its ground and wait to react.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 19:20, Mon 14 Sept 2020.

Vesryn slowly unblocks the doorway as he continues to talk to the creature. "As I said I won't stop you from leaving if that is what you desire. If you decide to stay with me I will protect you as I can and you can always leave whenever you like. I am sorry you were locked up for so long no creature should be treated like that. My name is Vesryn, I will be your friend if you will let me and give me the chance."

Bartimaeus looked at the creature for a moment, then took a quick breath in when his memory jogged and he whispered, "...homunculus..."

His eyes glared straight at the creature.

OOC:
15:41, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 20 using 1d20+5.  Know Arcana.

Sorry, Vesryn, but the telepathy is silent!

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 36):

It continues to look around for a clear way out, it’s eyes darting back and forth between you both. However, between the two of your attempts, despite the door being open before it, it doesn’t seem to be making a move to escape just yet.

“ You... not her servants? Not here to... to retrieve me? Then... then you are thieves? Yes? Taking things and poking in places not your own?”

It chuckles quietly to itself a moment.

“Best watch you don’t lose some fingers”

It still looks at you both mistrustfully, but it isn’t trying to escape anymore, at the very least.

"As I  said, my name is Vesryn. Yes sometimes i steal  when needed, i always watch out for my fingers. If you  would like to stay with me we can work together, i will protect you and you can assist me as you can and like. You will be free to leave anytime you like. "

he will make his way to the chair and sit down or the bed whichever is closer. making sure the creature has room to leave and isn't threatened by his actions.

Once seated,"You are a smart and  brave one, I do believe we could be such friends you and I what do  you think?"

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 38):

He nods a bit and speaks more to himself than to either of you.

“Just a mistake? Just here by accident?”

He chuckles again. A bit louder now.

“Friends? Yes. Friends we can be! Yes, yes, yes. This will do!”

Without warning he leaps at Vesryn, claws out. But rather than attacking, it simply clings to your clothing and climbers up and around in a spiral about your entire body, coming to rest on your left shoulder. He leans over to also be able to see Bartimaeus as well.
“We speak more, yes. You are not with her, but you entered anyway? So you are clever. Or lucky. Both are good! You are an... uh... unknown element? Unanticipated? Yes, yes. That!”

“The College deigned me worthy to enter; I only requested entry. Vesryn here came along after the door was open.”

Bartimaeus leaned against the desk. “But you fear your mistress. Why? What I know of your kind you’d know if your mistress were nearby. Was she not your creator? And who is this mistress of yours? Her name. Her race. Her magical discipline.

“Lastly: by what name shall we call you?”

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 40):

The little creature cackles to himself at your words.

"Creator? No no no no. She simply summoned me to this realm. And then bound me here with word and contract. A good deal, yes. No qualms. Until she started digging for knowledge. She had a goal in mind and would let me go until it was complete. When I refused to introduce her to someone who might help, she locked me away in the drawer... That was... I know not how long ago. How much time has slipped. Desk was sealed. Enchanted, so I could shift away... But you are not her. So to you, I am Milthrix. To you, I am friend."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:43, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

"Milthrix. Hmmm." Bartimaeus looked Vesryn briefly in the eye, and gave a quick nod to indicate that yes, he was inside his mind.


"I am satisfied at what I have gleaned here, though I would enjoy some time to review these findings. Vesryn, would you accompany me to the front hall where we may chat in greater comfort?"

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 42):

The imp peers over at Bartimaeus from his perch on Vesryn’s shoulder; a spark of curiosity now clearly visible in his beady little eyes.

“You! You spoke in my mind, though we’ve never met! You must be clever one! Looking at you, you are curious; yes, very, yes. You are seeking knowledge too, maybe? Seeking like her? But no, not like her! You surely have restraint where she had none. Know your limits. Won’t make stupid mistakes or seek ruinous powers. Surely a bright, clever one like you would know better! Maybe I can help? We can make contract and I can help you find answers! Safer answers. Ones worth knowing. Yes.”

Realizing he’s neglected his current ride, he turns his attention back to Vesryn a for a moment.

“Or maybe you? You offered, yes? Wanted to be kind? She was never kind. I would like kind. Maybe you make contract and I help you do.... whatever it is you are doing?” Looking you over, he now seems to be second-guessing himself as he realizes he has no idea who you are or what you do.

"I would be willing to see and make a contract with you, together we could do great things. If we do make a contract you will be treated fair. As to what I do, this place was once my home many years ago, more information you will only get after we have a contract."

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 44):

Milthrix nods enthusiastically.

“Ah, yes. Yes. And yes again. A music lover? So was she. But you are not simply playing at it. Also know what you are doing. What powers you tamper with. That is good. Much better. We can have a contract, in that case! You will accept, yes? I work for little. No souls. Only secrets. You pay with truths I do not yet know. Then I help you uncover more. And I take my share. It is a good deal, yes?”

"I can agree, you help me in my life and journey through it. In return I treat you fairly and share my knowledge with you.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 46):

Milthirx grins, hops off your shoulder and onto the edge of the desk, straightens up, and holds out a tiny clawed hand toward you.
“This is contract enough! You shake, yes? We have deal?”

"We have a deal." Vesryn takes the Imp's clawed hand and shakes it.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 48):

You feel a mild twinge of pain as his claws dig into your palm, drawing some blood. There is the briefest flash of crimson fire between your hands. Then it’s gone.

The deal is struck.

The contract sealed.

You now have a potentially useful “familiar” to call upon... you don’t know how loyal or helpful he’ll be, but as long as you treat him well and keep your end of the bargain, he’ll probably keep his. Worst come to worst, you’ve never known imps to be particularly dangerous combatants on their own. You could probably take him if you had to...

Bartimaeus' shoulders sagged a bit and the tiredness in his face returned. ~~ He asked an imp to help him through life. How long, I wonder, before the imp decides he's contractually obligated to help him find the end of his life? Hmmmm. Well, not being bound to him perhaps a question or two of mine can find an answer. ~~

He tidied up the paper into the leather binding, "Milthrix, do you know what happened to this book?" and tucked it under his arm. Bartimaeus took up his crosier and walked into the hallway, re-checking the doorframe for identification, and then started walking down the hallway towards the entry hall.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 50):

The imp looks at the cover carefully, for a minute or two before understanding suddenly seems to dawn on him.
“Her journal. Probably didn’t want others finding it. Put it together out of pages she would steal from others in the college mostly. And pages she wrote about her findings. Many secrets. Likely didn’t want others seeing them so hid them away or brought them with her to her ruin. Used to be lots of spells she couldn’t use or ones she thought might be useful one day but weren’t at the time. Cover couldn’t leave the college though. Disappeared if it leaves these halls for some reason. Then reappeared back  on the bookshelves outside this room. Strange bit of enchantment, but strong.”

Bartimaeus looked at the binding. "Curious. And Milthrix ... you still haven't stated her name." He let that statement hang in the air a moment before turning down the hall to the entry. ~~ I suppose I shall have to look through the shelves again for references to the Underdark. ~~

"Come, Ailuros." From out of the shadows of the corridor a Black/White/Orange tricolor cat pads silently after Bartimaeus.

He stopped suddenly. "Vesryn, I assumed the stacks in the entry hall represented the College library. Was I correct, or is there a library contained somewhere along this corridor?"

---

OOC:
Vesryn, unless THINGS HAPPEN I'm ready to get into 8-12 hours of study and research into the stuff we found. I'd be happy to be present while you question Milthrix to offer a bon mot (or not). I know you want to move on to one of the corner offices... would you be willing to wait to do that after a fast-forward?

DM, here's the things I'd like to do for the next [span of time], completing them in the order they're listed.

• Go back through the library looking for Underdark references, or material covering the same topics as those we found.
• Look for tracts on coinage (to help identify brass/gold coins)
• Cast Identify on
         Vellum page found concealed behind map (also Comprehend Languages on this)
         Copper Orb which seems like it should open
         Vial of violet ink
• Hold scraps of paper over open candle flame to check for disappearing ink.
• Do the same for 10 randomly selected sheets of paper found in desk.
• Ask Vesryn for a quill's dip of one of his potions; write on a sheet to see what happens. Can't see writing? Or can see through sheet to other side?

The following can happen while I am taking a Long Rest.

• Look through Mistress' copies of history and fiction books for marginalia.
• If coinage book is found, scan through for references.
• Read the History
• Read the Fiction
• Flip through the dozen or so books I'd already taken out to begin with.

"Yes,the books in the entry hall is the public library. There is also another one that was more restricted in who could access it. It is right by the rooms that I want to check out, I can take you if you can assist at the door."

Telepathy: Milthrix, shall we go and show him the way. Before exploring and getting to know one another better."

Want to try the room of my Mentor a Whisper Bard, quite the collector of secrets.

With that, the two of you make your way down to the far end of the hallway fulled with doors. A few larger ones come into view at the end of it, decorated with far more elaborate filigree and embellishments than the typical resident doorways were. One Vesryn immediately recognizes as the one he’s looking for. A simple enchantment rests upon it, as well as a complex lock. To enter, both would need to be opened.

The enchantment you know to be undone with a simple phrase often shared between yourself and your mentor. The lock, however, Is far less of a straight path. Picking or breaking of some manner will be necessary.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:29, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus’ eyes flash at the possibility of restricted stacks. “I would be happy to assist at your mentor’s door.”

---

OOC:
Ok, DM: guess I’ll delay that list of stuff to do for a little while longer!

Haha, oh no! :-D

Sorry to have you write that only to say, “do it later!”

Vesryn, mind giving over one of those vials (eventually)? In exchange for an item to be named later?

(DM NOTE: No worries, it’s all saved. Just going to post it again when you get to that point is all.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:30, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

"My Mentor's room might be a little hard right now, but seeing the rooms again there is another which might be doable. It was from someone form several hundred years ago so might not be anything inside but a large room for my base."

Moves to the door of the long lost resident and inspects it, waiting for whatever assistance his companion with give before attempting the lock. Making sure to point out the romm with the restricted library as we went by it.

14:50, Today: Secret Roll: Vesryn rolled 22 using 2d20+4, dropping the lowest dice only.  aid on lock. if guidance was given roll  would be even better.

Guidance is indeed offered

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 57):

(21 was what you needed, so guidance isn’t actually necessary here this time. But good thinking either way. You two are proving to be a pretty effective team.)

Your spend 10 full minutes jostling the lock, almost positive turning it any further in any direction at this point will snap the little metal implements. You are just about ready to give up when the lock suddenly give way. There is an audible SNAP as metal components that have not moved in centuries suddenly activate. There is a loud groaning of metal hinges as the door slowly swings inward, revealing a pitch-black room that goes back a good 20 yards in every direction, including down. A set of rusty iron steps are jammed into the wall descending diagonally down to the floor, just barely visible from where you two stand. Everything further in than that is obscured by a thick layer of darkness.

Milthrix recoils violently as the door opens, hissing at the shadows inside.
“You have been  in here before? It is... not ordinary dark. Very old, OLD magic in there. Ruinous magic.”

Vesryn, steps inside to get a good look. Devil's  sight "If we can get lucky and fix this place up, Milthrix it will be your new home and our place to study and store our research. Can you see anything or remember anything more about this room."

The newly formed team of warlock and familiar begin to search and study the room, falling into a rhythm which would seem like having worked together for years instead of just minutes.

16:19, Today: Vesryn rolled 24 using 2d20+4, dropping the lowest dice only.  Perception .

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 60):

“Never been in here. Not somewhere I want to be. Smells of ruin and death. Not any one’s in particular, but as a whole... I don’t like this room... but it is big enough, yes.”

The room stretched out ahead of you is clearly that of a bard. Instruments of varying types line the walls on hangers from delicately crafted metal hooks and chains. All manner are here. From strings, to winds, to chimes and drums. Some you do not recognize as actual instruments, yet they must be, all the same.

A small writing desk sits against the far wall, its drawers (besides the bottom one) all open and empty. The numerous bookshelves likewise have been cleared of most of their contents. What remains are a small assort meant of notebooks, only a few scattered across the many shelves. A floor is a heavily detailed mosaic map of the city, however, where the town square should be, an arcane algorithm has been formed from the tiles. Similarly, the Roe houses a depiction of a massive tower over top of the cemetery and jutting into the sky that isn’t there in reality. On the ceiling there is a complex star map detailing numerous aspects of the night sky on this hemisphere. It shines and twinkles as if alive, clearly animated through some arcane means. Similarly, as you watch the floor, you notice tiny dots on various tiles are moving; skittering here and there like ants beneath you. The Entertainment District seems to house the most of them currently, but there are numerous in every part of the city. They disappear when they pass into a space occupied by a building.

A set of chests rest nearby each bookshelf, totaling 4 in all. They are ornately decorated and richly embellished with gold and silver filigree. A single podium stands between your place on the steps and the rest of the room, looking out over the map like a judge’s lectern. Some simple sheet music rests upon it.

~~ Eager, this one. ~~

Bartimaeus stayed outside the threshold. “Vesryn, keep in mind: your new friend here complained his old mistress sought ‘ruinous knowledge’, and described this room in the exact same terms. He might not think you ordering him in here to be very ... kind.”

It was then Bartimaeus saw the ceiling and he froze. His eyes took in the immensity of the star chart and he involuntarily walked haltingly forward into the room in complete jaw-agape silence.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:04, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

Vesryn is in awe of the pure magnificent of the room with its portrayal of his city. "Yes this will be our new home once we clean and organize it, Milthrix. Once we cleanse it remove some of that ruinous power it will be perfect. You can be my eyes over the whole city from here. Look at all the detail and those ants must be people coming and going about." looks to his human companion. "What do you think of my new home.? I have a feeling that the previous occupant had some evil intent and with necromancy and the cemetery look at that tower which isn't there now or ever. You will be welcome to come and study this room, when you want but it must remain a private matter between us no others."

Once the awe has worn off and they are ready to explore the room some more he tries the only locked drawer first.

17:25, Today: Vesryn rolled 2 using 1d4.  guidance.

17:25, Today: Vesryn rolled 23 using 2d20+4, dropping the lowest dice only.  drawer .

So only a 25 for it.

Bartimaeus is lost in the promise of the ceiling, and puts off Vesryn’s requests for help with vague and incomplete mumbling.

---

OOC:
Sorry mate, me and the ceiling need some time together. ;-)

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 63):

As you carefully crack the lock on the last drawer of the desk, you nearly jump as the sound of a heavy wooden door slamming shut somewhere behind you reverberates through the air. Then the sound of various mechanisms clicking shut within it. You want to turn and check it, to make sure you’re not locked in the room. But your eyes can’t turn away from what you’ve discovered here.

The drawer is open, but rather than more books or mundane paraphernalia you had expected to find, you now see within it a pair of tiny humanoid figures standing in a room atop a mosaic map of the city of Tideswallow. One is turning to look at the far end of the room, while the other is staring at a desk with its bottom drawer open. Inside, you can just barely make out two incredibly minute figures in a room with a large mosaic map of the city of Tideswallow for a floor. One is turning to face the the far end of the room, while the other is gazing spellbound into the open drawer of a tiny desk. This one is far too small to make out any details of... but you’re pretty sure you know where this is going.

And going.

And going...
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:31, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

In reply to GM (msg # 65):

You both stand there, staring at your respective attractions for what could be an eternity.

Vesryn, when you have a chance, make a Wisdom Saving Throw (no advantage on this one) to see if you can pry yourself away from the drawer.

Bartimaeus, likewise I’ll need an Intelligence (Arcana or Nature, your choice) check to determine if you can make sense of what you are looking at on the ceiling. And if you can see beyond the rudimentary fundamentals of it to get a glimpse of what you are looking for.

In reply to GM (msg # 66):

23:29, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 12 using 1d20+5.  Arcana.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 67):

The star map is a magnificent piece of enchantment; with the celestial bodies perfectly coordinating to their appropriate place in the night sky despite this surely being made centuries ago... however, while you’re confident there is more here that you are not seeing, you cannot quite pinpoint what it would be. Something is definitely off about it. As if there is one single thread out of place in the vast tapestry of the cosmos on display above you. But it is such a minute difference, your eyes are unable to grasp at it. Billions of stars. Maybe more. And some small imperfection therein.

You’re just unsure of where...

And then there is the distraction of your current situation, which suddenly pulls you from your concentration as you realize the door has sealed shut behind you; effectively trapping you and your two (one and a half?) companions in this forgotten old chamber.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:36, Wed 16 Sept 2020.

00:01, Today: Vesryn rolled 5 using 1d20+2.  Wisdom save.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 69):

It’s too fascinating. You can’t pry your eyes away as you stare deeper and deeper into the increasingly tiny dimensions below. How far does it go, you wonder. How many smaller versions of you are there?
 Will they all make the same movements?
The same decisions?
Are they merely mirrors of your own reality, or do they have a  will of their own; each one an independent fragment of your whole persona, sequestered to their own plane of existence in one of the multitude of timelines expanding ever outward from your current course and stretching off into infinity?
We’re you to make one truly uncharacteristically you decision, would the others follow suit?

Your mind wobbles on the edge of questions you fear to ask. Suddenly, you find yourself pressing your face down into the confines of an empty wooden drawer. You pull yourself back up and look about. You find Bartimaeus staring dumbfounded at the ceiling and Milthrix unconscious on the floor beside you. You have no idea how much time has passed.

Vesryn takes a second to gather himself before closing the drawer. Then he goes to see what can be done about his new familiar, then Bartimaeus.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 71):

Milthrix is lying motionless on the floor, sprawled out in a most undignified manner. You suspect he succumbed to some aspect of whatever enchantment was upon the desk, but beyond that you’re unsure what happened. Without proper knowledge fo how to aid him, your best bet seems to be to wait and hope he gets better on his own. His condition, while initially troubling, doesn’t seem to be life-threatening in any way. If something of this manner even could threaten the life of an outside to begin with...

Next he tries to get his friend out of the dazed/ stunned state he appears to be in staring at the ceiling.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 73):

Bartimaeus appears to be in a deep trance. His mouth moves to form soundless words as he stares at the static star map engraved upon the ceiling. It is a fine piece of artwork, but now lacks the animated presence it seemed to hold when you first entered the room. None the less, he continues to gaze up at it, tracing constellations and patterns with his eyes that you yourself can’t seem to make out. It is unclear how long he’s been like this. Or how long you two have been in the room. You only now notice a fine  layer of dust upon Bartimaeus’s clothing. Looking down at your own, there is a similar gray buildup on portions of your attire as well. Studying your sleeves specifically, you also notice a series of shallow scratch marks on your arms that you are confident weren’t there when you entered the room...
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:28, Wed 16 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus' mumblings switch between languages, and what's understandable is a mix of verse, mathematics, and lectionary.

---

OOC:
Guess I'll keep staring and rolling Arcana?

09:23, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Arcana.

Vesryn takes time to think while using mending to fix his clothes. Then he tries to block the vision of his companion to break the visual contact between him and the night sky mosaic. He makes sure to secure his familiar on his person hoping close contact will help to revive it also.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 75):

You watch as the stars stretch on further and further, focusing in on the smallest details you fan find. Something is out of place here, you’re sure of it. But it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You are nearly ready to abandon the task, when you suddenly realize a part of what you are missing. One star is out of place. You saw it earlier in one spot but then your eyes passed over it again in the completely different one. You know you didn’t see it move, yet it was somewhere else. Frantically, you search the heavens for it once more, trying desperately to pin down its location amongst the otherwise properly-positioned celestial bodies around it.

Briefly closing his eyes and muttering a prayer Bartimaeus looked again for the missing piece... to no avail. "I know it was there, I know I saw it I SAW IT and it's gone blast my inadequacy it's this damnable lack of sleep I want to sleep..."

He sighed, shook his head, and looked up at Vesryn, "What happened to you, and why are you covered in scratches?"

---

OOC:
14:03, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 15 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana and Guidance.
Arrrrgh! Damn you Mean Reversion! Lol.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 78):

The stars stand there, still as can be. You strain your eyes and focus every ounce of willpower on finding unveiling the hidden component you just know is resting in plain sight, but it is just too much. Tens of billions of stars stand before. It is impossible for any one mortal mind to comprehend them all...

Soon you find your vision returning to normal. The trance ending. You blink, and star map that had seemed so lively just a few seconds ago is now nothing but simple unchanging constellations carved into the ceiling. The floor below you is still an animated map of the city, but it seems whatever enchantment you witnessed high above has now faded... for the time being at least.

"I'll be thinking of this dratted cosmotarium all week." Bartimaeus shakes his head in frustration and looks at Vesryn. "I know you've got your heart set on this room, but inhabiting these offices was not my idea, and I do not wish to overstep. If you'll excuse me, I'll be setting up for an evening's session in the front hall. Perhaps after that we can request entry to the restricted stacks."

He walked to the door and...
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:46, Thu 17 Sept 2020.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 80):

...found the handle gone. The door itself, gone. There was nothing but smooth stone on this side of the wall.

Bartimaeus looked at the wall. ~~ Eager. This is what happens with eager. ~~ He turned around back to Vesryn shaking his head. "Now that we have all the time we could want to look through this room, let's start looking for a way to be not in this room."

He walked over to the desk. "You were fiddling around with this, yes?" And he began to search.

---

OOC:
00:53, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 14 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Investigation, trap room.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 82):

The desk is almost perfectly identical to the one you found in the first room you entered. It is made of wood and consists of four legs, three drawers, and a flat writing surface. With its drawers all open, you find there is little mystery left to it. You didn’t get a good look at what was in the bottom drawer, as you were preoccupied with the questions of the cosmos, but you understand that whatever Vesryn found in it wasn’t particularly helpful to your current situation.

Upon the surface are a trio of forgotten writing quills, their tips worn down from years of use. They are virtually useless now; likely something that the room’s previous owner realized perfectly well when he or she left them and little else of note behind.

"Nothing here it seems," Bartimaeus says as he looks back at Vesryn. Noting the arcane formula on the mosaic floor he returns to take a closer look. "That error... if this formula has anything to do with the cosmic epicycles displayed on the ceiling, perhaps this would give a clue..."

Before focusing on the formula, he glances at the Bardic College, wondering if there are motes trapped within a bard's office there as well. "Vesryn, when we get out - if - you will buy the first bottle of claret." The dry laugh that follows hints how increasingly unlikely Bartimaeus believes that to be.

---

OOC:
10:02, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 23 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana formula.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 84):

The formula is something you have only seen a few times in your life; typically only in the personal sanctums of very powerful mages. It is a spell circle designed with interchangeable components; making it possible to cast a wide range of spells by simply making small adjustments to the existing lines and sigils, rearranging them as needed without having to start from scratch each time. While you’re knowledge of spells cast in this manner is limited, you are quite confident that the current configuration is one meant for teleportation of some manner.

The buildings on the mosaic map show no individuals in them at all. In fact, as you watch some of the dots moving about the map, you note that they cease to exist when they enter a building. Studying the Bard College in particular, however, you do notice something you hadn’t before: there are notes written upon several of the building on the map. The tiles which represent the College, a large building in the Roe, a pair of small buildings in the Town Square a patch of gray out in the middle of the harbor and the Fiendfall Reef at its mouth all have small words engraved along side them.

On the Bard College: “;We hunger eternal, my craving not sated.”
On the building in the Roe: “Feed us and have your way forward ungated.”
On the first building in the Town Square: “A snake craves a rat as a bird craves a worm.”
On the second: “But my craving’s a privilege that you have not earned.”
In the Harbor: “So come now and feed me, and set yourself free.”
On the Reef: “Only one taste of knowledge alone holds the key.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:04, Fri 18 Sept 2020.

"Vesryn, we may have our way out of here before us. If only we can find a method of activation..." Bartimaeus said as he copied the teleportation circle formula down dutifully in his Book of Shadows.

He then moved on to the riddle. ~~ Feed them. And what are they? Gibbering shoggoths? Aboleths? ... Illithids? Ha, I discover knowledge only to bring it to them to be consumed, becoming 'free'. ~~ Thoughts of this sort flipped by in his mind spitballing solutions to the puzzle while he continued to note the relative positions of buildings on the map. ~~ Why would you have this riddle scribbled on the floor of your study in mosaic? Is this laid out so the occupant could study the riddle further? ~~ Bartimaeus' mind carried on in internal conversation as he worked.

He'd finished a sketch of the city, marking the buildings and the cryptic hints, and he stood, talking as if everyone had been aware of his silent musings. "No matter, 3 locations in the city to visit before hiring a coxswain and his longboat: the Roe, and the Town Square. Which first, I wond - wait! Why did I arrange it in this order when they're spread over the map? Perhaps they should be organized according to geography..." He looked again at the riddle.

"Organizing principle: coming by sea into the city in linear fashion.

Reef - Harbor - College - Square - Square - Roe

Organizing principle: radiating outward from center.

Square - Square - Roe - College - Harbor - Reef

Organizing priciple: spiral.

Reef - Roe - Harbor - Square - College - Square
or
Square - College - Square - Harbor - Roe - Reef

"Which goes first, which last? ... The word 'So' implies a conclus -- these are rhymed couplets!" he shouted in realization. "See? A-A-B-C-D-D. So this riddle is not something the bard was trying to solve... it's something created by a bard in his typical preposterous fascination with metered verse. The middle couplet does not conform to that pattern, but possibly he was appealing to a sense of poetic license to rhyme 'worm' with 'earned'. Nevertheless, we have something to go on, and this prankster enjoys playing with style," Bartimaeus looked around at the instruments on the wall. "and the answer will be written on sheet music or something similarly cliche ... assuming poetic license, we have three corresponding pairs of notes. Didn't you say there was..." He trailed off, striding quickly towards the lectern where he remembered mention of musical notation.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 86):

The lectern has a thick layer of dust covering it. It has clearly been many years since it’s been used. A small booklet of sheet music rests upon its mahogany frame. Complex symphonies by a famed composure from nearly 200 years ago by the name of Nethan Rothfield. Grand, epic orchestral pieces that are far beyond what any single bard, no matter how great, could play by themselves in a secluded room of a college. Most would require an orchestra of well over a hundred pieces. The song it is open to is simply titled “IV” and seems to be a portion of an opera. The language is a human tongue from the western coast of Veltria, not quite Common, but simple enough to decipher with a basic understanding of it.

The song seems to be the middle portion of the opera: A strange tale of a mimic desperately attempting to pass as a human. This portion deals with its search for knowledge, but not understanding written works, it instead attempts to devour the contents of a library. A humorous piece, to be certain, but without the actual music playing, there’s little to be taken away from it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:26, Fri 18 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus copied down the publication information of Rothfield's composition and make a few notes regarding the plot. "Devouring knowledge led to a library buffet, eh?" He laughed. "Hunger and thirst for knowledge and desires to be fed..."

He walked back to the map. "Strange case disagreement of pronouns here. 'We hunger' in the plural, but 'my cravings' are singular. Why not 'our cravings'? Back to plural for 'Feed us'. And then singular from thence: 'my craving'; 'feed me'. No agreement across the accusative; the possessive is singular; the subjective plural. If composed by a bard this would be nonsense; it's either not the creation of a mortal bard, or the bard was rendering it into language purposefully ambiguous because the phenomenon was incomprehensible. Or unless the phenomenon truly is both singular and plural...

"Legion?

"Discomforting possibility, that." Bartimaeus looked at the imp. "One of your type craving knowledge, are they hmmm? At least they'd know where true power resides." He then closed the booklet and placed it within the leather binding taken from the imp's mistresses' office. "I'll read the rest of the operas later. Ah! So much to read, what fortune! But, hah, how little of it to lead anywhere but dead-ends."

He looked around the office and noted the closed chests. "Had a look at these did you?" he asked Vesryn. "Could be there's something that makes more sense in context of the map of the city or the cosmo..." He cut off as another possibility struck him.

"Time. Star positions track time. Moving stars are the passage of time. Perhaps this mosaic is not pointing to a where, but a when..." He returned hurriedly to the mosaic looking for moons and planets which would indicate seasons, and whose relative proximities determine the absolute passage of time.

---

OOC:
19:24, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 10 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana, identifying time.
Gettin real tired of your crap, DiceRoller.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 88):

Nothing jumps out immediately to you from the map. You stare on and on hoping to see some inconsistency or some secret meaning, yet none appears. The map, for all its fascinating splendor, appears to simply be exactly as it appears. Much of the room seems that way, in fact. As you look for any signs of magic enhancements beyond the floor or ceiling, very little stands out.

The instruments appear to be perfectly ordinary instruments.

The bookcases perfectly ordinary bookcases.

The books left upon them, one to each case, mundane and trivial at first glance.

The four chests are splendid to behold, but even they have little of interest when you look at them. Not even a lock upon their faces; only symbol or insignia here or there.

The room, for all its vast strangeness, has a bizarre amount of ordinary adorning when you get right down to it...

"How conspicuous. Ok, Vesryn. I'm going to attempt to work this circle and see if it isn't the way out. I'll talk my way through it mentioning possible activation words just in case I suddenly disappear and you're locked in here with your imp."

Bartimaeus took the papers he'd been keeping within the mistress' bindings out and stuffed them rolled into his vestment pocket, the binding he also pocketed but separately. He grasped his pearl of power and began to incant.

---

OOC:
Ritual cast Identify on the teleportation circle to discover the activation command words/gestures/ect.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 90):

After ten minutes of study, you find that the circle is very much a teleportation ring, one currently set to somewhere else in the city, though you can’t pinpoint specifically where. While you do not currently possess the knowledge needed to utilize it as an actual teleportation spell-casting medium, you find that its activation appears to be tied to other objects in the room, specifically the four chests, in some manner. It s likely that activating these in some way will simultaniously activate the circle, causing it to act as a gateway to whatever the last location it was set to is.

"The chests are the key." Bartimaeus rose and walked towards them. "Some configuration..."

He examined the designs on the chests as well as the size of their bases. "Possibly they are placed into some cradle... on the map?"

He returned to the map looking for 4 rectangular insets of particular sizes, starting with the most conspicuous places: the corners; the cardinal directions; the 4 buildings in Tideswallow with writing on it; the three towers in Tideswallow not connected to the city walls in the Entertainment, Housing, and Office districts as well as the tower in the Roe.

---

OOC:
12:16, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 12 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Investigation, boxes.
DiceRoller, let's step outside a moment.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 92):

The chests are an interesting mixture of ornately decorated woods, each with an individualized crest upon them.

One mahogany with a seal that resembles a coiled snake.
The next oak, with the insignia of a skull.
A third made of cedar, with the bronze image of a soaring bird stamped upon it.
The final one maple, presenting the crest of a cello or some other large stringed instrument.

All four stand at a different corner of the room with their lids closed.

As for the map, nothing jumps out at you as you study it. No inlets where something might be moved or rearranged in any way. The mosaics seem entirely locked in place, apart from those of the teleportation circle.

Bartimaeus examined the chests. "...Locations in the city? The maple chest seems obvious enough: it corresponds to the College. The oak, likewise, the crypt. Cedar... possibly the city park? Leaving the mahogany for the office district. A sense of humor, this one, depicting the city fathers as snakes."

He rubbed his chin. "Possibly they should be placed upon those locations, but there are no insets there to accept the chests. Those locations do roughly correspond to the cardinal directions: maple for North, and likewise. Could it be the chests should align with the cardinals ? But where? And which way is north? Assuming for a moment the compass rose on the mural is aligned with the city, the chests would go here, here, here, and here." And he indicated where in the room they would go. "If not aligned with the cardinals, would they align with those city locations? Maple at the North; mahogany for West-northwest; oak for South-southeast by South; cedar Southeast?"

Before he started picking the chests up to move them about, he paused and said: "...Possibly they are meant to stay on these shelves, but in the proper order - maple, cedar, oak, mahogany - around the room."

---

OOC:
Keeping on with the investigatin'.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 94):

The chests are quite hefty and do not budge from their locations, as if built directly into the floor or secured with some immensely strong adhesive. The shelves surrounding them likewise do not move when manipulated. Following that train of thought, you test the lectern only to find that it too is secured to the floor; despite looking incredibly light-weight and movable. All of the furniture in the room seems to be set to a single location from which it cannot be shifted.

The drawers on the desk can be slid in and out. The books on the shelves can be picked up, opened, and put down at will. The lids of the chests can be lifted on their hinges, but the chests themselves are immobile. The sheet music on the lectern can be turned, but otherwise seems adhered to the flat wooden surface of the lectern itself. The instruments can be touched and played, but attempting to move them off of their hooks reveals that they are locked to the chains they dangle from by some strange enchantment. Beyond that, not much else in the room seems to move at your touch.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:35, Sun 20 Sept 2020.

"Alright, so they don't move. Nothing moves. They're containers. They... contain things?"

Bartimaeus looked around the room and knew little present was able to be placed within the chests, except...

"The quills!"

~~ They'd been worn down to the nub through use. Writing the correct command word on ... paper? ... and placing it within the chests, perhaps. But what command word? ~~

Bartimaeus looked again around the chests for indications of command words.

"What about the sigils on the chests... Violoncello, snake, skull, bird. A stringed instrument, a snake-charmer's horn, skull... percussion? a drum perhaps? and ... bird... feather... wind? woodwind? That might please a symphonist. But the instruments are not removable. Perhaps they should be played? How like a bloody bard to make someone play an jolly instrument to do something!" His growing frustration with these mischievous prankster bards was evident.

"Now, now," he mindfully calmed himself. "The solution will have an aesthetic design according to the nature of the designer of the puzzle. Let us start with the stringed instruments and see what Rothfield has the string section playing..."

---

OOC:
If that doesn't go anywhere, the next step is casting ritual Identify on a chest, starting with the Cello chest.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 96):

The quills prove to be ordinary quills, as you suspected. They certainly could have been used for writing once, but not for a long, LONG time now. The chests, as you inspect the sigils, don’t appear to be locked in any manner. Someone could easily open one and place something inside.

The instruments you see before you as you look around certainly seem enough to arm a small orchestra. For strings in particular, you find numerous lutes, cellos, basses, and small harps. All of them hang from hooked chains about 5 1/2ft above the floor; making playing any of them an uncomfortable experience, but not impossible.

Bartimaeus spent some time looking over the sheet music to see if he could make heads or tails of the string section's responsibilities. Having some idea of maybe what the strings were supposed to do, he walked over to the maple box and opened the lid. ~~ Let's hope there's some clue left inside. ~~

---

OOC:
21:25, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Int check, sheet music.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 98):

The music is a complex mix of instruments all playing a part in a grander overall piece, meant to be accompanied by powerful vocals from a (according to several of the notes scribbled in the margins) dwarven tenor. Unfortunately, nothing you find seems to point toward a clue of any sort as far as you can tell. The story of the mimic trying to pass as a human appears to be little more than a humorous old fable that Rothfield turned into a backdrop for his ensemble piece.

Growing tired of the nothing you are uncovering in the music, you open the maple chest with the cello-like instrument upon it. The lid opens easily on well-oiled hinges that seem to have completely ignored the passing of time around them. The chest is about 4ft long and 3 1/2ft wide, with the interior being 3ft of empty air. At the very bottom of the chest is a complex spell formula drawn out in a rectangle. It appears to be of a transmutation nature and engraved in a fine silver material so that it is inseparable from the wood itself. A few burnt scraps of paper and leather sit within it, singed by arcane means and virtually destroyed. Even the biggest is no more than a few hairs in width, leading you to believe it was shredded by the spell formula upon its activation.

"It is something written, then..." Bartimaeus works silently transcribing the spell formula hoping for any clue as to what should go in it. Afterwards he checks the other chests as well.

---

OOC:
08:51, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 21 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana, looking at the mahogany chest inset.
08:50, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 24 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana, looking at the cedar chest inset.
08:50, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 17 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana, looking at the oak chest inset.
08:50, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 25 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Arcana, looking at the maple chest inset.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 100):

As you pour more and more time into your research of the chests, you become more and more certain that they are the key to your freedom... or more specifically, they are the locks. The keys appear to lie elsewhere in the room, constantly destroyed and reassembled anytime someone uses them. The scraps remaining in the bottom of each chest appear to be final shreds of some book. You start to piece together that the chests are designed as receptacles for books, but that only specific ones actually seem to do anything. When you reach the mahogany chest, you find a copy of a small pocket diary, still wholly intact, within. It seems someone attempted to use their own personal book as an answer to the puzzle and found it incompatible.

Then you reach the oak, things begin to take a slightly darker turn. At the bottom of the chest lies a skeletal corpse, clothed in a set of violet robes. They appear to have forced themself into the chest, as there is no apparent sign of broken bones of unwilling entry. They seem to have laid down in the box, curled up there, and simply died. You are unsure what would have possessed the, to do this, but you suspect it may begin to seem like a viable option if you were to be trapped in this room for too long without any hope of escape...

"Serves me right for ignoring the books."

Bartimaeus picked up the diary first, and withdrew the robes and skeleton from the oak chest, giving it a search for identification. "I feel I understand your despair. Rest you well, then."

He grabbed the books from the shelves and along with the diary sat down at the desk and began to read. As he did so, he took notes in his own book on his findings.

---

OOC:
Search corpse  --  11:42, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 23 using 1d20+1d4+5.  Investigate robed bones.
Read diary
Skim books

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 102):

-This might be a slightly long one, so be prepared to give it a minute here-

As you approach the work ahead of you, you sense an ominous presence within the corpse you are moving. As if some shred of the person it once was had yet to move on. It is gone in a heartbeat; fading entirely the moment you remove it form the chest, but the sensation was certainly not something you want to experience again. Whatever the chests are, you gather that any rest you might find in them would be anything but peaceful.

The diary proves to be a brief account of someone who had been scouring the city’s various landmarks for secrets. Knowledge they could offer to some entity they simply called “Her” “Him” and “The Watcher” within their record. The titles all seem to point to the same being  and are used interchangeably throughout it. They appear to have begun their search at the waterfront, crept through the cemetery looking for more clues, and found their way here. Upon becoming locked in the room, they wrote that they would attempt to use their own record of knowledge to satisfy one of the locks’ cravings. In the back of the book, you find several pages which have simply been slid in and do not match the rest of the parchment actually attached to the spine. Judging by the visible age of most of these pieces, you suspect this represents the bulk of the individual’s findings. Things they gathered up from various points in their search. The contents can be found here.

The final entry is a brief set of lines clearly written while under severe mental duress.
“Keys within parchment. Mimic locks. It’s all too much. Can’t make sense of these. The first two were obvious. The map tells for you, just needed a little sassing out of the wordplay, but the skull? The stringed instrument? What does a skull crave? What could an instrument be wanting? It makes no sense. No sense. Too much. Far too much sense. So hungry. Should have dehydrated or starved weeks ago but this damned room won’t let me die! No water’s so much worse than no food. If anyone finds this, a word of warning: find something sharp and e do yourself in quickly. I can’t work up the courage to do it myself. Need to rest on it. Have to be rid of this room.” It trails off from there into repeating itself for three pages.

Going back to the bookshelves reveals a series of new possibilities. Each bookcase contains a single book left upon one of its shelves. It would look almost inconsequential, as if they were simply forgotten when the rest of the room’s library was emptied, were it not for the fact that it is so consistent across the board. One book to every one of the twelve bookcases, left conspicuously on a random shelf therein.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:12, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

In reply to GM (msg # 103):

Each book is a completely unassuming volume of either music sheets, fictitious work, or history. Nearly every one shows a great deal of wear and tear from ages of use by its previous owners. If these truly do represent the keys you are looking for, you suspect only four are actually needed. The rest are likely red herrings of some manner, just meant to fill in space or send you down the wrong path...

Roses: A Guide. A gardener’s manual for tending to roses. Dating back about four centuries, you find the information in it to be, to your surprise, still just as boring but practical now as it would have been back then. Specifically, gaining the most out of rocky, infertile soil and ensuring that your roses grow in even the harshest of conditions.

Untitled Book of Sheet Music. A booklet of sheet music for a symphony by the famous composer Nethan Rothfield. Penned a few decades before his disappearance nearly 170 years ago, this one appears to simply be titled “III”. It seems the last few pages are missing.

The Headsman’s Bounty. A history of the original council of Tenebria. Specifically, this volume is part 6 of a 19 part collection. This one deals with the life and eventual trial and execution of Merius Xilthus, a corrupt advisor of the Eternal Empress who tried, over the course of many years, to fill her head with thoughts of extending Tenebria’s reach overseas. His honeyed words and venomous intent were eventually discovered and he was executed for sedition about 320 years ago.

Somewhere Far Beyond. A book on cosmology, penned in a form of Common no longer used in any part of Veltria. You suspect this was written well before the rise of Tenebria and the proper scientific astrological research the Empire’s universities brought with them. Even a cursory glance reveals many of the star charts to be completely incongruous with the modern skies above.

Key to the Kingdom. A foreign novel detailing the rise and fall of a small kingdom in a far off land. The royal family is slaughtered one night, all but the youngest daughter who is smuggled away by a prisoner whom the king had condemned to death. The man takes her into hiding and trains her as his apprentice as a mercenary “spell-sword” (which you can only assume is some manner of battle mage in the region the book was written, given how casually the phrase is tossed about). After the mercenary’s death and her acceptance of who she is, the girl, now a woman in her early 20’s, sets off to reclaim the home and birthright she’d been denied all those years ago.

Hens in the Fox Den. A spy novel, written in a form of gnomish that has rarely been seen for the last 300 years. It is the first in a series about a man who ultimately chooses to sell out his former organization to their king when it becomes clear his comrades are plotting a coup. The rest of the series surely goes into the consequences of his decision and where life takes him from there.

Fickle Freedom. A history book containing the collected records of seven different Free Cities similar to Tideswallow which have since fallen into ruin. Not one is currently still standing. This volume basically just traces their path to failure through economic isolation. It paints a grim picture, but as far as you can tell, not one that Tideswallow would ever fall into thanks to its sheer importance as a point of trade.

Each Note a Memory. A book of music from an antique age. Many of the songs herein have not seen the light of day for centuries. This could be worth quite a bit of coin to a collector or an organization like an active Bard College.

Life and How to Live It. A combination biography and opinion piece on the state of the world by a famous bard named Mikale Stype. You know you are passingly familiar familiar with some of his limericks, but can’t actually call any to mind at the moment. Mostly political opinions disguised as catchy tunes, as many of the best songs are. You’re positive one will come to you once you stop actually trying to think of one.

Caring for Our Musical Friends. A treatise on the proper cleaning and maintenance techniques for exotic instruments. Looking around the room, you can match up several of the more bizarre instruments you see hanging from hooks with the designs and diagrams in the is book.

Allegory of the Witch and the Weapon. A somewhat comical short story of an encounter between a Tenebrian devastation-trooper and a horribly deformed drow web-witch. Through a bit of banter between the two, the soldier posits that it is the pinnacle of drow evolution, while the decrepit, hunched creature before it retorts that the soldier is not a drow. That it is merely a tool cast from a mold, where as the web-witch is the result of circumstance and necessity. A true example of what makes drow who they are. The story concludes in an expectedly dark, humorous, but ultimately thought-provoking manner.

Dust in the Wind. A book pertaining to the nature of death and what comes after it. This appears to be a brief history of mortal knowledge concerning the plains of the gods, elementals, demons, and the various afterlives associated with each. A simple map of the planes beyond that of the material folds out from the center of it. A few notes written here and there in the margins relate back to how immortalizing someone in song is as good as keeping them alive forever. Seems this was someone’s textbook somewhere along the line, but likely not at the Bard College; though they almost certainly brought it along with them when they came here. A hefty amount of the back pages of the book are completely empty, and it appears the tome was originally meant to be updated as more planes were discovered or more belief systems worked their way into popularity.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:32, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

"Yes, it is a tidy puzzle. Weeks on end, eh? Then likely it would do no good to place one at a time in each box to see if the mechanism signaled acceptance, otherwise it would be trivial. But even there we're only talking about..." he closes his eyes for a moment, "11,880 permutations. Bookkeeping would be bothersome, but if your life is being sustained..."

He looked down at the skeleton.

"Then again, 'weeks on end' wouldn't explain the failure to find the final two, if two solutions had been 'obvious'. Perhaps they weren't as obvious as you'd thought, eh?"

Sitting down, Bartimaeus thought for a moment then began to reason.

"A snake craves a rat. Rats. Underground. Scavengers. Betrayers. Traitors. Two good possibilities with that line: Headsman's Bounty, and Hen in the Fox Den.

"A bird craves a worm. Worm. Ground. Fertilizing. Wretched. Poor. Crawling. Again two possibilities, but neither very good: Roses: A Guide; Key to the Kingdom. And I suspect a collector of operas ... or souls... would have little enough admiration for someone... HA! EARWORMS. Yes, the limerick man. Life and How to Live It, then.

"What are the cravings of instruments... to be played? To be preserved? Played, I should think. Rothfield's III; Each Note a Memory; Caring for Our Musical Friends. But III is incomplete, and I suspect to be played and heard fits the nature of instruments better. Let's begin with Each Note.

"And the skull. Death. Memory. Loss. Decay. Poison. Ossuaries. Liches. What does this skull crave. Violetta? We crave what we see every day. This one possesses an orchestra of souls who... sing. And who sing eternal. Caring for Our Musical Friends," he says flatly, with a sardonic grin. "Because that is who you have left to you, eh? Well, there are other possibilities, but this I think is your desire."

Bartimaeus stood. "For your sake, Researcher, I hope this isn't the answer you so vainly sought." he said to the corpse. Carrying those four books he placed each by its chest.

"Ordering?" He looked back at the mosiac. "College is first, then Roe. Snake, then Bird. Let's start with that."

---

OOC:
Maple - Each Note a Memory
Oak - Caring for Our Musical Friends
Mahogany - Hens in the Fox Den
Cedar - Life and How to Live It

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 105):

As you drop the books into each respective chest, a few things happen. Your eyes pick up the majority of it as the room slowly begins to react to your solution.

First, the four formulas at the bottom of each chest light up. The books you have dropped in levitate above the runes for a moment, catch fire, and are utterly obliterated as some manner of energy is sucked out of them. A split second latter you hear a series of THUMPs around you as, all at once, the books reappear on their respective shelves.

Each chest emits a brief glow as the energy from the books is funneled through them. Cedar, Oak, and Maple all glow a sickly, brackish brown color, while Mahogany glows with an eerie green light. Then, the light from each drains as it runs through the gapes between the tiles of the map; coalescing into a single stream of illumination as it reaches the spell circle.

A few moments pass with nothing happening. Then, ever so slowly, the pieces that make up the spell circle begin to shift. They slide here and there, reforming the circle into a new shape. You have just enough time to recognize its new configuration as an evocation circle before the energy which poured into it is suddenly released into the room.

---

I need both of you to make a Dexterity Saving Throw at this point.

15:16, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Dexterity save.

Well alrighty then! :-) Guidance before books next time it is!

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 107):

A thick wave of ghastly green electricity envelopes the room in its entirety, arching between the instrument chains and bookshelves climbing upward to the ceiling. It dissipates into the constellations carved into the stone high above, each one igniting with emerald electrical energy for a moment as it absorbs into the stars.

After a few moments of freshly-singed silence, a voice crackles through the air around you, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The instruments hanging from their chains begin to thrum softly as it speaks. The tone is deep, masculine, and sophisticated. “Well, well, well... Some new company, at last. Hello there. I trust you are enjoying your time poking through these old quarters? I do hope the little fascinations that have been left behind are to your liking. Please, do try any combination you like. They all have their own various flavor of fun to them. And please... stay as long as you like.”

---

You suffer 12 points of Lightning damage.
(We’ll just throw Vesryn’s damage in there later when I find out how he rolled. It’ll be 12 or 6 depending.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:07, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus dusts himself off muttering, "I'd rather not do that 11,878 more times."

He looked over at Vesryn and Miliplix. "Still alive? I'll warn you before we try again.

"Ok, so the Mahogany chest was lit brightly. It could be because that book was the correct choice, because it was randomly selected to shoot green lightning, or because it was the wrong choice. I suppose we'll have to try it again with different books in other chests. Let's find out what the rules of this little game you've gotten us into is. Also, this office is entirely yours."

---

OOC:

Cast Guidance on all of us in the room.

Maple - Rothfield's III
Oak - Dust in the Wind
Mahogany - Hens in the Fox Den
Cedar - Roses: A Guide

Vesryn seemed to come to life when the lightning blasted trying his best to avoid it or as much of it as he could.

17:57, Today: Vesryn rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  Dex save.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 109):

Again, the light which emits from the mahogany chest is the same eerie green shade, while the ones coming from the other three are a smoky, rust-colored hue. The circle adjusts its shape once more as the books return to their respective shelves. This time you catch a distinct arctic scent in the air before anything happens. Like the smell of pine tar burning.

Suddenly the room erupts in a burst of green-tinged flame. For a split second, all the world is lost in an emerald firestorm as you feel your flesh and all your belongings melt together into a single, running slurry... and then it’s gone. And you stand where you were no worse for the wear, aside from a few superficial burns.

After a few moments, the voice returns again. “Persistence. That is good. That will keep things interesting for you. A life without determination is hardly a life worth living. And what end could possibly be worth while if it is not conducted in a grand blaze of glory? So do keep at it... My fascinating new friends...”

---

Both of you take 5 points of Fire damage
Vesryn, you only took 6 from the previous lightning wave.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:33, Wed 23 Sept 2020.

"I want to check something out, any help you can give would be appreciated."

Vesryn studies the 12 books that are the key to this trap, looking to see if there might be any hidden or out of the way musical notes represented on them or in them.

21:53, Today: Vesryn rolled 14,1 using 1d20+4,1d4.

Then he does the same for the chests.

21:54, Today: Vesryn rolled 9,2 using 1d20+4,1d4.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 112):

Upon careful study, you only find a single one which you feel may be an indication of some deeper connection. One of the runes in the formula at the bottom of the maple chest appears to be a bizarre combination of several musical notes into a single symbol. It is something you’ve never encountered before in either music or arcane scrollwork, as it has no actual translation into any particular language. It simply appears to be a symbol the caster created themselves... a symbol that appears in one of the margin notes in the book Dust in the Wind where the one writing in the margins notes how recording someone’s deeds in music can immortalize a person, essentially meaning that it nullifies their death.

In short, as far as you can make out, music consumes death.

If there are more hidden symbols like this, you are unable to see them. Either they are too well hidden, or this was a one-off case.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:02, Wed 23 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus swept his arm across, palm up. "By all means Vesryn. In any case, I think prudence dictates we pause a moment in our attempts. Another blast might not kill me... but our friend here," indicating the skeleton, "thinks that there's plenty of time for us to cogitate. But I wonder... did that much time actually pass? Or was it another enchantment, made to seem as if it had." He looked down at the mosaic rune. "Charm him that he's been here four months and he might hop in willingly to suicide on his second day." He shudders.

Bartimaeus walks to desk and draws out a quill and paper. "There is yet one combination to try to test the mechanism: we believe the Hens is a correct book. It's likely the correct book for that chest. But is a correct book in the incorrect chest designated as such? Answer that question, and our reasonings may begin in earnest."

Just as he began to scribble notes on the attempted combinations, he put the quill down. "Vesryn. You have an office here in the College. Why did you pick the lock of this door? You seem anxious to occupy a different room than you do, but... why this room. Whose room is it, and why did you choose it? Did anyone send you here?"

---

OOC:
I'd like to take a Long Rest before we continue the puzzle; my HP is low enough a failed save would zap me.

I'd like to take care of the reading I'd have done had we just gone back to the entry hall, but for that, Vesryn, would you share one of your potions of invisibility?

I'll start keeping a record of the attempts.

Vesryn takes the time to cast two spells one for him and the other for his companion. Cure light wounds

"I sent the ink and potions to my room I don't have them with me., I hope you are feeling better now."

22:25, Today: Vesryn rolled 11 using 1d8+3.  cure light wounds on Bart.

22:25, Today: Vesryn rolled 6 using 1d8+3.  Cure light wounds.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 114):

You begin your research without issue. It is slow work, but rewarding. For the next 10 hours you spend your time running a few experiments and researching what you discovered; utilizing what space you can within the chamber.

While you are unable to discover anything of note about the coins you found. With little access to anything but the twelve books present in the room, there’s not much to help you in the field of coinage.

Casting Identify on the various items reveals a few details you had missed earlier. The vellum, for instance, is rudimentary spell scroll used to cast the spell Tiny Hut. While still a functioning scroll, you wager that a more complete version of the spell could be performed as a ritual. The metal orb, meanwhile, reveals itself to be some manner of prosthetic eye. The back of it is designed to open up and act as a tiny safe, but can only open while it is attuned to an individual. To do that, they must first replace one of their own eyes with it; a process you are hesitant to even consider. Finally, the violet ink proves to be a simple form of physical cipher, designed to disguise words when used to write, or to hide them from sight entirely. You suspect this is what was used to write upon the seemingly blank sheets of parchment you found.

The spell also reveals a ways to decipher text written with this ink. By pouring the contents of either a potion of invisibility or casting Invisibility on the paper, it will cause the sheet to disappear while the words remain, suspended in the air where the sheet of parchment should be. If you would like to, you could use the entirety of one of the potions you procured to reveal all of the sheets of parchment you found. Otherwise, Invisibility would need to be cast on each sheet individually to achieve the same result.

The book of Tenebrian history proves to be a fascinating read, but again you are struck by the knowledge that much of what is written is only half the story. The truths that you find can be summarized thusly: Tenebria, the center-most nation in the entire continent of Veltria, was a land of peaceful farmer and crafstmen, conquered over and over by larger forces from neighboring countries. The nation was mainly populated by drow, which made justifying such actions easy for the foreign forces. These outsider warlords used the Tenebrian populace for slave labor for hundreds of years, until a great revolution from within, utilizing a grand perversion of druidic magic, finally led the Tenebrian people to freedom. Now a force to be reckoned with and having secured the support of small free-states all across the continent, Tenebria began conquering it’s former oppressors, slowly becoming the massive empire it is today. The free-states which supported it were allowed to remain free; never being conquered and instead having a strong positive relationship with the Tenebrian Empire as it grew. Tideswallow is listed among these as a footnote; though you suspect it was much less of a city back then and more of a hold-out of fishermen and explorers.

The fiction book is a harrowing tale that essentially acts as a narrative parable about the dangers of venturing into the unknown without the will necessary to face one’s own fears. However, the more you read it, the tougher it is to determine where it truly crosses into the line of fiction. For all you know, this could be a completely true story with just a few minor changes made. Rather than no one surviving, there could have been a single survivor. The author.

(During all of this, Vesryn could have been aiding with the research or doing whatever he liked.)

As this is going on, you have the unnerving sense that something isn’t quite right about this chamber...

---

While within this room, any hit dice you use to heal will be reduced to half of their normal potency. Similarly, a long rest will only heal you for half of your max health and will not get rid of any points of exhaustion you may be suffering (not relevant for you two right now); though it will still provide its other benefits. Excellent prediction on that cure wounds!
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:35, Wed 23 Sept 2020.

"My craving is: a privilege you have not earned." Bartimaeus picked up Key to the Kingdom. "'Privilege' means 'private law' in the Old Vaspathian, and different rules apply to lineal descendants of kings. These rules are not earned as they are inherited. Worth a try?"

---

OOC:

Guidance for everyone!

Save: 23:34, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 21 using 1d20+1d4 ((20,1)).

Maple    - Hens in the Fox Den
Oak      - Key to the Kingdom
Mahogany - Headsman's Bounty
Cedar    - Dust in the Wind

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 117):

This time all of the chests shimmer with dark crimson light. When the circle adjusts itself, it is not into another evocation circle, but back to teleportation... yet it is inverses from how it should be to create a portal out of the room.

A moment later, the air above it shifts as a space is torn open. From within, a trio of small skeletons drop in. They clatter to the ground and the rift vanishes. A few seconds later, the three begin to rise. Their skulls and claws appear draconic in nature, but their diminutive forms and upright, bipedal stances suggest they are something lesser.

The one closest to you two opens its bony mouth and lets out a terrible hissing sound as wind is pushed across its empty skeletal frame.

---

You can go ahead and roll initiative as the three skeletons move to attack you.

---

00:18, Today: GM, for the NPC Kobold Skeleton 1, rolled 7 using 1d20+1 ((6)).
00:19, Today: GM, for the NPC Kobold Skeleton 2, rolled 18 using 1d20+1 ((17)).
00:19, Today: GM, for the NPC Kobold Skeleton 3, rolled 12 using 1d20+1 ((11)).
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:20, Wed 23 Sept 2020.

00:25, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

Will we be posting by individual initiative or side initiative?

00:33, Today: Vesryn rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  intiative.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 119):

Being the one who actually placed the books, the first two skeletons are going to rush at Bartimaeus and attack with a series of claw swipes; hoping to overwhelm you. The third, however, has a hard time keeping up, having only just reanimated.

The first one reaches you and takes two claw attacks, swiping at your midsection, as it can’t really reach much higher than that. It’s first strike goes wide as you instinctively back away, but it catches you in the calf with the second.

---

01:13, Today: GM, for the NPC Skeleton 2, rolled 10 using 1d20+1 ((9)).
01:14, Today: GM, for the NPC Skeleton 2, rolled 21 using 1d20+1 ((20))
Damage: 3

Has the Imp came to yet or is it still out cold.

Bartimaeus raises his crosier and incants a brown and green nimbus around his crosier, bringing it down on the skeleton’s shoulder.

“Ailuros! Distract that one!”

---

OOC:
Bonus Action, Cast Shillelagh

Attack Kobold skeleton
08:22, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  Damage skeleton.
08:21, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  Attack, kobold skeleton .

Free Action: direct familiar to aid me next round.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 122):

The first skeleton takes the hit hard to the ribs as the enchanted crozier comes swinging about unexpectedly. While it reels from the blow, the second skeleton leaps at you and delivers its own flurry of swipes with both claws. Its strikes are clumsy, though. These creatures clearly were not meant for combat and likely have simply been thrown at you as a makeshift trap than an actual lethal assault.

---

13:55, Today: GM, for the NPC Kobold Skeleton, rolled 5 using 1d20+1 ((4)).
13:55, Today: GM, for the NPC Kobold Skeleton, rolled 8 using 1d20+1 ((7)).


The imp is slowly getting his surroundings back, recovering seemingly due to the sudden burst of fire from the previous attempt. It seems to have shaken him out of his daze a good bit. He’s useable as a familiar for the purposes of combat here.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:58, Wed 23 Sept 2020.

Vesryn moves to assist his companion by attacking the creatures with his rapier. "Narmacil Telepta" As he swipes at one of the creatures but misses.

16:21, Today: Vesryn rolled 7 using 1d20+5.  rapier attack.

The Imp uses his own actions and such to attack as he is a non spelled familiar, he may or may not attack so up to DM to handle in combat

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 125):

The final skeleton sees your attempt to swipe at the others and prioritizes you as a target. Before it can reach you, however, the imp rushes out from behind your leg and leaps onto it, holding it in one of the most pathetic examples of grapple you’ve ever seen... but the little kobold skeleton seems helpless to shake him off.

You hear Milthrix’s voice both out loud and reverberating in your mind. “Kill it kill it kill it kill it kill it KILL IT!!!”

---

Kobold Skeleton 1 is grappled due to failed Strength Saving Throw.

OOC: We're back around to Skeleton 2, right?

Yes top of round 2, a skeleton then you,

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 127):

(Yeah, sorry, got a little hung up on something last night.)
The second skeleton continues focusing on Bartimaeus, lashing out twice with its little claws. The display would be almost comedic, were it not for the sharpness of those appendages.

---

11:35, Today: GM, for the NPC Skeleton 2, rolled 11 using 1d20+1 ((10)).
11:36, Today: GM, for the NPC Skeleton 2, rolled 11 using 1d20+1 ((10)).

Ailuros pounced on the skeleton threatening Bartimaeus, distracting it, and lept off just in time: she had opened its defenses and allowed her master to deliver a crushing blow with his enchanted crosier.

---

OOC:
11:39, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 24 using 2d20+4, dropping the lowest dice only ((12,20)).
11:40, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 7 using 2d8+2 ((1,4)).

This message was deleted by the player at 17:41, Thu 24 Sept 2020.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 130):

With that, the first skeleton shatters; its tiny bones scattering cross the mosaic tiles.
The third skeleton lets out a horrific screech and attempts to latch its toothy little jaws onto your leg... but it can’t seem to get a grip.

---

13:32, Today: GM, for the NPC Skeleton 3, rolled 5 using 1d20+1 ((4)).
Because, much like with Vela’s fight, this dice roller seems to hate me lol...
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:35, Thu 24 Sept 2020.

Vesryn quickly goes to the aid of the Imp, "Narmacil Telepta" as he slashes the skeleton striking it and Silver flames leap onto the last remaining one.

Green flame Blade/ But I prefer silver for color instead.

Flame damage to the other was 3 points.

14:52, Today: Vesryn rolled 4 using 1d8+3.  Damage.

14:51, Today: Vesryn rolled 16 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only.  rapier attack on grappled.


FYI what I said was "Fire sword silver" in elvish by Tolkien using it as my spell incantation.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 133):

The skeleton you strike recoils from the initial attack, attempts to raise its arms to leap at you, and immediately falls to pieces as the blade’s silver flames disconnect its various individual bones. The little pile of kobold bones begins to burn with a horrendous, acrid scent.

Milthrix does his best to move back away from the fighting, trying to ensure the final kobold skeleton doesn’t come for him after his little display.

The final skeleton shifts it empty gaze from one of you to the other, entirely uncertain what to do next. Without its allies beside it, it desperately rakes Yesryn with both claws, hoping to dissuade him from attacking it... The first simply tears hole in the left leg of your pants. The second, however, digs deep into the flesh beneath.

---

15:17, Today: GM, for the NPC Final Skeleton, rolled 6 using 1d20+1 ((5)).
15:20, Today: GM, for the NPC Final Skeleton, rolled 21 using 1d20+1 ((20)).

Damage 6 (3 doubled from crit)
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:27, Thu 24 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus moves to flank the remaining skeleton, and strikes... but he seems to connect with a particularly sturdy bone.

---

OOC:

15:38, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 11 using 2d20+4.  Attack final skeleton, flanking.
15:39, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  Damage final skeleton. (???)

Vesryn uses the distraction of his companions attack to follow up with one of his own. His rapier hitting it but not very hard.

15:44, Today: Vesryn rolled 4 using 1d8+3 with rolls of 1.  Damage.

15:44, Today: Vesryn rolled 21 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 1,16.  Flank attack.

Between the two of you, the skeleton is left unsure what to do. It begins to panic further as the imp, now a safe distance away and crouched atop the desk against the room’s far wall, conjures a blob of sticky crimson flame and hurls it at the former kobold. The fire catches immediately, further adding to the deterioration of its bones; yet the skeleton remains intact.

Now truly feeling boxed in, it takes a frantic series of swipes at Vesryn, as he was the last to make contact with it. It’s claws, while still not particularly dangerous, now trail a tiny bit of flame with each swing.

---

15:57, Today: GM, for the NPC Final Skeleton, rolled 15 using 1d20+1 ((14)).
15:58, Today: GM, for the NPC Final Skeleton, rolled 12 using 1d20+1 ((11)).
 Damage 3 slashing, 1 fire.

OOC: It has an AC of 13, unfortunately, so that 11 misses.

The skeleton focused on Vesryn and left itself completely vulnerable and Bartimaeus' crosier came crushing down.

---

OOC:
16:07, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 20 using 2d20+4 ((11,16)).
16:08, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 10 using 1d8+2 ((8)).

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 138):

With a final shriek that emits from its skull long after the rest of its body has been bashed away by the crozier, the last skeleton finally crumbles to inert bone on the tiles. There is an almost palpable sense of relief in the air as things quiet back down to normal...

...then comes the music. A quiet, almost inaudible collection of instruments playing over one another. Accompanying them is the same voice you had heard previously. Calm. Collected. Cold. With just the slightest hint of amusement tinging his every word.

“An admirable performance. Though hardly a true test of skill. Nothing to spark an honest hint of inspiration... but it is a stat. Perhaps the next will prove more entertaining. Do give it another go, when you are feeling ready. Not that there’s any rush, of course... we can keep this game going for as loooooooooooooooooong as you need...”

Bartimaeus looked at Vesryn. "Are you alright? I'm merely cut a bit; nothing to complain about.

"Whether our bemused spectator ever inhabited this office, or if he left it as a honey trap for curious types like yourself I suppose we won't know until he tires or relents: there's no longer any reason to believe this puzzle even has a solution. Why should it? If he is a necromancer, or lich, or the Vampire Lord Conductor of the Symphony Profane, we may be caught as surely and securely and as permanently as a fly in a web. And if we are, I'm humble enough to admit: I possess no means to force exit.

"Which means the only path to exit is to assume the Spectator is earnest, and act accordingly." He sighed.

"The reaction of the chests is tedious: all four glowing brightly red. Going from the theory that Hens is correctly placed in the Mahogany chest, all four might light up brightly when there isn't a single correctly placed book; and that would mean the previous books we've tried might be correct, but simply in the wrong chest. Or perhaps they could all be correct, merely in the wrong spaces. But if Dust is also correct when placed in the maple chest, it lit up no differently than Roses and Rothfield's III when it was in the cedar."

Bartimaeus picked up Hens in the Fox Den and Dust in the Wind. "Mahogany for the former, maple for the latter. That leaves us the oak skull and the cedar bird. A worm and... what death wants. I have to say I like the idea of earworm limericks, but it lit brown when placed in the cedar. Hmmmm."

He pulled out the loose notes collected by the deceased researcher. "A lost love. 'Violetta'. Could it be...?" Bartimaeus quickly picked up Roses and scoured the pages for mentions of the purple flower she had been named for.

---

OOC:
Can I just say that combat was laudably rapid! Well done us getting through three rounds snappily.

Bartimaeus will Investigate Roses for references to Violets, oaks, and skulls, or anything similar.

Vesryn, I'm at a loss on the worm entry for cedar. Any thoughts there?

Maple    - Dust in the Wind
Oak      - Roses?
Mahogany - Hens
Cedar    - ???

I kind of like somewhere far beyond. A book on star charts . Birds are always migrating  going beyond and start charts is for navigation too.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 141):

In that case why doesn't B spend time with Roses, and D with Beyond. See if there's anything that stands out in those texts. No need to rush, eh?

Vesryn will study the book, Somewhere beyond to see if he can find anything to tie it to the ceder chest.

13:34, Today: Vesryn rolled 3 using 1d4.  guidance.

13:34, Today: Vesryn rolled 15 using 2d20+1, dropping the lowest dice only.  Investigation, advantage.

Bartimaeus sits down and scours Roses.

---

OOC:

13:39, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 17,3 using 1d20+5,d4.  Investigation, Roses. Total: 20

Between the two of you, you spend a good hour poring through the various pages and diagrams laid out in both the guide to roses and  Somewhere Far Beyond Until you feel there is little more of use you can glean from either one.

Roses appears to bear a general tone of a guide to not only ensuring that roses grow, but that they thrive and spread. That they live out their full life and lead to the creation of more. In that way, you could certainly see some connection to the oak chest if you were to assume the skull indicates death. It could be interpreted as death craving or consuming life as the analogy between the snake and rate/bird and worm could be seen similarly. It’s a bit tenuous, but you feel, were this a debate hall or courtroom, you could at least argue a solid case for it fitting the riddle’s prompt.

Somewhere Far Beyond, while certainly a fascinating read when compared to modern astrological assessments, seems to hold little connection to the cedar chest. Reading more like an arcane study on the theoretical connection between the Starr’s and gods, it has little to do with any actual proven science, and many of the star charts therein are just plain inaccurate by modern terms. You’re uncertain if this was left as a red herring, or if it somehow pretains to one of the other chests.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:46, Fri 25 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus shook his head. "Blast. I'm reaching on this one. Not happy with yours either?" He picked up the two books they hadn't yet considered: the short-story Allegory, and Fickle Freedom.

"Let's give these consideration before we try again."

He hands one to Vesryn.

"Wait." Bartimaeus held onto the offered book. "... No it jolly well doesn't."

He shook his head. "A snake does not crave a rat the way a bird craves worms: yes, both feed on those creatures, but birds return worms to their nests to feed to their chicks. Snakes do no such thing. And only some birds feed on worms... raptors certainly don't. But... songbirds do." He looked up at Vesryn. "If the snake is a schemer, they crave a rat, a betrayer, not to consume, but to do their dirty work. The former will use the latter to attain its ends. The bird uses the worm as a means for its offspring to survive."

He walked to the map.

"Suppose this riddle connects agents, means, and ends. The bird is the agent: protector and provider; she desires a worm; her intent to sustain her young. Let us take this as the model for the others. The snake is the agent; he desires a rat; his goal of betrayal is fulfilled. The cello is the means, but neither agent nor end; immortality is that end; the composer the agent, though perhaps not object, of immortality. That leaves the skull as the end, the purpose. Whose purpose is death? With what means do they pursue it?

"Hens seems to suit the mahogany still. Dust suits the maple."

Hefting the Allegory in his hand considered: "And the devastation-trooper was a tool. But was the crone-witch trying to feed her young as a bird? Or bring death to others? And maybe in these pages we can find a songbird. Let's find out, shall we?"

---

OOC:
More reading!

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 146):

And so you read. The allegory is a simple one, and one that has been told time and time again across hundreds of cultures in one form or another. At its base, it deals with the concept of losing one’s humanity. Of becoming disconnected from what a makes us fundamentally what we are. It also touches on the horrors of what people can be driven to. How the advancement of technology, magic, and warcraft can cause even the sanest of us to cast away our humanity and become nothing more than weapons driven by our own ambition. Monsters not only in body, but in mind and soul as well. It is an old tale and it reminds us to hold fast to our humanity. To stay true to who we are, regardless of circumstance and influence of forces beyond our control. In many ways, your mind connects the message it is trying to convey to the point of what music has done for many cultures; preserving their heritage and traditions down the line. You suspect this book may be an alternative choice for the chest with the cello on it... which leads you to wonder just how many answers there are mixed in amongst these books. And what difference might come from combining different correct answers...

Fickle Freedom proves to be exactly what it was at first glance: a history of economic failures amongst free-cities throughout Veltria. Places that declined the generous invitation of the Eternal Empress, only to then fall to ruin for it later on down the line. You are unsure how this book fits into the puzzle, if it does at all. It is something of an outlier amongst the rest of the bunch in that there doesn’t appear to be any hidden meaning or deeper subtext to it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:25, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

Bartimaeus screwed up his face in frustration.

"No clue. Maybe Roses for the flower connection. Earworm still makes the most sense to me."

Shrugging, he flipped through the pages the researcher had found, until: "I'm an idiot."

Showing Vesryn the notes, he said: "Rothfield is our conductor and... lich? Who knows. His initials signed here for Kava, whomever that is. Violetta, his love, long since dead and his attitude about her changes and moves towards indifference, the process of which he recognizes and regrets. But what continues is his composition. His verses. He is incomplete."

~~ Of course he is, terrified as he is of what he may find beyond the stars, and obsessed with preserving rather than becoming... ~~

"And this," Bartimaeus holds up Rothfield's III, "is his incomplete work. Violetta he's moved beyond, poor thing. Likely enough he's already ripped her soul back from death to use her femur as a contrabassoon's spit-valve. His incomplete work goes in the oak." He exhales.

"As for the cedar, I think Stype's limericks fit. Not only are they earworms; but how else would a composer of high opera view a scribbler of epigrams and banal witticisms but as a worm? Yes, we've placed Life in the cedar box before. I don't know what to say: the colors make little sense to me."

---

OOC:
Vesryn, anything else you'd like to do before we try again?

Guidance on both of us, and Shillelagh. Ailuros gets dismissed to escape an AoE.

Maple    - Dust in the Wind
Oak      - III
Mahogany - Hens
Cedar    - Life and How to Live
This message was last edited by the player at 14:57, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

The mahogany and maple chests again let off a pale green glow. Rust colored light emerges from the cedar chest, while a strange, wavering shimmer that constantly shifts between blue and orange emits from the oak. After a few moments, the circle on the floor begins to shift once more, turning this time to conjuration. A chunk of suddenly appears in the center of it, an almost perfect cube about 4ft ion all sides. The circle shifts again. Transmutation this time. A hissing sound can be heard from the base fo the rock. It slowly begins to sizzle and melt from the base up. As it does, certain parts of the rock fall away entirely, but others remain; taking on a different consistency all together.

By the time the spell is finished, what remains a 4ft wide table about 2ft high. It seems to be made of oak and covered with an assortment of foods. Meats, fruits, Vegetables, four bottles of what appears to be wine of some manner. All sitting atop a gray stone platter on the tables oaken surface.

The instruments around you begin to buzz with life once more. “A fascinating choice.... Not a deduction I believe anyone’s made before now. Interesting. Very interesting. You two are quickly proving to be most entertaining guests after all...”

"We haven't seen purple or yellow light."

He walked over to the table to inspect the wine.

"We've seen red, orange, blue, green, and brown. But neither the primary yellow, nor the secondary purple.

"The colors are not tied to the books: Dust in the Wind has been rust, crimson, and green. You might say the colors are tied to the combination, but three times there's been no unity whatsoever among the books. So what about the time all were united in crimson?

"We think Dust and Hens are correct books, but we intentionally put Hens out of the mahogany chest. Dust was there as well, but not in its correct chest. The resulting mosaic was teleportation - as desirable an effect as we should like - but bringing creatures in, not out. If green signifies success, and if unity signifies a correct selection of books, and the reversal of the teleportation effect produces red, then its complementary color, green, might produce a teleportation effect out.

"The previous combination was Cedar:Dust; Mahogany:Headsman; Maple:Hens; Oak:Key.

"Dust fills the maple chest; Hens the mahogany. Key had previously been in the oak chest. That there was unity in color makes me believe that it was in the wrong chest before, which would place it in the cedar chest, though I don't know the metaphorical connection. This leaves Headsman for the oak chest. A rather banal connection, if I'm honest, for someone who composes opera. But this deduction is looking at color theory more than literary content."

He brought the wine, two glasses, olives and salami over to the reading desk. "I cannot test it for purity... can you? Something to look into later."

Picking up the four books, he looked at Vesryn. "Ready?"

---

OOC:
Guidance and Shillelagh should still be active.

Cedar    - Key to the Kingdom
Maple    - Dust in the Wind
Mahogany - Hens in the Fox Den
Oak      - Headsman's Bounty

will be ready after I do a heal or two just in case. Just need to do it in a few at work on my way out the door in just a few.

21:10, Today: Vesryn rolled 8 using 1d8+3.

21:09, Today: Vesryn rolled 8 using 1d8+3.

Ok ready only down 2 hp since healing was at 1/2 value

Once more the maple and mahogany chests fill with a pale green light. The oak brings for a rusty red color while the cedar sends out one of a more bark-like brown hue. The circle beings to shift once more. The books THUNK back down onto their respective shelves. The lines of the circle snap into place. Teleportation. But of a strange variety. A portal slowly opens above it, unfolding like an aperture from several points around its center.

It is open.

And it is passable...

But it is passable from both sides.

After a second uncertain shuttering, a torrent of water begins to flow out of the portal. The smell is unmistakable. Salt water. It begins to fill the room with its frigid, briny bulk. You are both buffeted by the overflow as it washes across the floor, then begins to climb quickly. The first three feet of the room fill up in a matter of seconds. From there, it steadily fills more and more with every moment that passes. By your mental calculations, the chamber will be completely filled in just over a minute.

"BLAST!" Bartimaeus yelled. "You'll get through only once the water near the portal has equalized the pressure by filling the room." As he spoke, he hurriedly checked the waxed containers for his books and writing equipment, stuffing the researcher's notes in and sealing everything as tightly as possible in the little time was available.

"Good luck!" he said, wading next to the portal from the side, before quickly incanting a spell and...

... disappearing.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:43, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 153):

In a flash, Barimaeus vanishes from his spot; leaving Vesryn and Milthrix to fend for themselves in the ever-filling chamber.

---

For gameplay purposes, we’ll say that only took 6 seconds, so you still have most of a minute. The water wouldn’t have risen too noticeably  between the time Bartimaeus disappeared and the time you take you respond to this post.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:21, Mon 28 Sept 2020.

Since the water is rising, but it is a two way portal the water must not be coming in fully from the portal which would mean that the portal is near the surface to have both air and water otherwise it would just be pure water and yes it would need to be equalized. Vesryn moves to the portal and will go through it also. If the Imp cannot go through or needs assistance can put him in a sack etc to give him some air while I swim to the surface or what have you.

If he needs to wait to get through, he will do so taking a full breath before making his way out etc.

In reply to Vesryn (msg # 155):

Calming your mind against the panic-enduring sight of the immense torrent of water pouring out of the portal, you allow yourself to relax and consider the situation from a more rational light.

You are a learned man.

You understand basic science.

You know your own limitations.

Making peace with the hand you have been dealt here, you wait as the water rises. You allow yourself to be engulfed by the briny tide overtaking the room. You watch as instruments and the quills on the writing desk are shuffled around amidst the flow of the sea entering the room. The books on the shelves, you notice, remain unmoved by the force of the swell.

Soon you are in a fully submerged chamber and find the portal quickly closing. Yet you are dexterous enough to make your way through just before it phases out of existence entirely. You find yourself, still submerged, in an unlit stone chamber...