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.