Chapter 4 : Dead of Winter

[itches]

Lade forced his arms to relax. The tension that previously disappeared returned with a vengeance. Trying to appear casual the middle aged mercenary shifted his grip on his shield to a more ready position, made sure his feet were clear of any entanglements and mentally measured the distance between himself and the nearest crossbow man.

If there was going to be a fight, he would be ready.

[BigRedRod]

The face of the knight flashes through a few emotions before settling upon affront,
"Bicker? I do not stand here to argue, Sir. I am here to have my revenge for my love lost. You tell me that these... these... whatever they ought to be called are not responsible."
His voice rises as he speaks and behind him the three men at arms start to twitch, mimicking Lade's motions as they casually prepare to take aim with their weapons if things do turn hostile.

Instead, Sir DeWark takes an extended breath and continues in a calmer voice,
"If you will speak only in vagueries of your troubles and not suggest solutions than I shall take me leave. I would not see the blood of my brethren spilled by my own doings. The good folk of Edinway may have been momentarily overcome by greed, but they still deserve my aid and even if these particular rats are no threat, there are many more who very much are."

[Flagg Thornington]

Finn calmly intercedes into the uneasy conversation.

"Good sir, It is plain to see that we all have the same interests at heart. I understand your suffering and we all feel for Mr. Franchesca's loss. Perhaps you could aid us by spreading the word to those you protect to avoid this desolate district. Your status would offer much more motivation to the locals. Your love for Sophia may also help calm her mourning father, at least enough to allow us time to find some answers. There is no reason for us to waste time fighting one another."

[BigRedRod]

"I would leave these uncouth souls before their lack of manners rubs off on you, good Sir."
Offering Finn a quick nod, the knight remounts his steed albeit in a slightly clumsy manner. Harald grins slightly as Sir DeWark turns to address them once more,
"Good day, I wish your success in your endeavours and hope that our paths need not cross again."

In a smoother motion he closes his visor and turns his heel slightly to set his charger cantering off with his retinue of men-at-arms close behind.
"Horse's arse. I hope we don't have to bloody well run in to him either."
Adds Harald as he watches the knight leave.

With the threat of violence seemingly gone, the injured rat lopes off into the tower leaving his companions to reform their defensive perimeter of the tower. While they may not regard the party as allies they do not see them as a threat either.

[LuneMoonshadow]

The heavy silence of the winter air hangs heavily on the cleric. A ragged sigh escapes his lips, looking almost like smoke in the deep chill.

"Let's go," he says without turning around.

Though the order was given no steps are taken. Hesitating for one final time before committing, Malkanus can't help but wonder if they're heading in the right direction.

"Hopefully the library will have some answers for us. The rats should be safe for now. Hopefully the guards are able to keep out most of the civilians. Otherwise we might be coming back in here to reclaim the bodies."

Leaving a trail of prints behind, the cleric sets off for the quarantined gate, hoping to see an angry mob for once. At least that would mean they weren't getting themselves killed.

[BigRedRod]

Leaving the rat's to their tower, the party form up behind Malkanus and allow him to lead them away from the urban clearing and back toward a more civilised region of Edinhumber. The screams and clanks of combat echo around eerily, invisible spectres warring all around. Harald detours slightly to retrieve the sack holding their precious bounty.

The grimy snow holds long stripes of red and a good many footprints. Here and there a larger pool of gore marks where somebody, or something, fell in battle. Oddly, there are no bodies.

From around a corner a troupe of a half dozen rag tag men from the city emerge in front of the party. One of their number, a man armed with a shovel holds the severed head of a rat. Upon spying the party he slows a little in order to hide his prize behind his friends. The man at the front, a man of Lade's years armed with a large hammer and a crown of dried blood around his head greets the party,
"Afternoon. Any word? Not seen hide nor hair of one of the little fuckers in about an hour."

[LuneMoonshadow]

"Plenty of words for times like these," the cleric says with a grim smile while looking over each of the men, gauging their hardiness. After a moment of silence he finally speaks up, the smile gone from his face. "Have you happened to come across the rats with magic prowess? Nasty bastards, all of them."

"I know a thing or two about magic but I've never seen anything like this. Lightning coming straight from his fingers, accurate as any of you with a bow." Extending a hand and waving his fingers a bit, Malkanus makes sure they get an idea of what the gesture is like. "Not just lightning, though. Made the world quake..."

The cleric can't help but cast a sorrowful glance at the ground, as if reliving the moment where the ground trembled beneath his feet. "Made using weapons near impossible. Near impossible..."

"Only a damned lucky shot by Lade here," he says with a motion back to his companion, "ended the whole ordeal. We got him though." With sort of a half-smile drenched in sorrow Malkanus nods to the bloody bag in Harald's possession. "Took eight of us to do it, but we did it."

A moment of silence passes by for the group's imaginary companions' deaths to be remembered, broken only by the heavy sigh of Malkanus who turns those still living and motions towards the gate. "Time to get the hell out of here."

"Good luck, gentlemen," is his only farewell.

[itches]

Lade shook his head as Malk spun the tale of magic-using rats, still feeling the after effects of the ambush they had encountered. With those arrows, the truth wasn't so far away from fiction.

Waiting until they were out of earshot of the other party, Lade stepped up his pace until he was next to the cleric.

"Malk, I've been thinking and ya know more about this stuff then I do. The rats they said they were from ... somewhere-else right? Like a hole in a wall that keeps getting bigger as people climb though it, until the house falls down? And those bloody cultists - no offence - they said that the girl with the feathers is a demon and trying to stop the Red Moon from coming back. Well what if they're connected? That girl ain't normal ya know, and I'm not saying she is stopping the Red Moon from taking all of these blastard ghosts, but what if she came from the ... the hole and the hole is stopping the Red Moon?"

Lade fell silent for a moment, considering his words. "Hell I don't know, thinking about this stuff gives me a headache. I just want a straight simple fight that isn't some furball looking to eat me."

[BigRedRod]

"To you too!"
One of the men calls as Malkanus walks away. The party leave the men in a huddle, clearly debating whether they actually want to find any more of their quarry this day or whether they should simply cut their losses, claim their gold and return to the their lives a little richer and wholly alive.

Harald coughs in response to Lade's concern,
"You're saying we should just kill her then? We know where she hides and so do the damn moon cult. We don't keep watch and she's back in a cage in some other warehouse basement, and I don't reckon we'll get lucky and just stumble over her twice. So we go back now and slice her throat? We'd have to do Annie and Roen too, they wouldn't let us just take her."

The northerner has a terrible look in his eye, a strange gleam of madness which lingers far too long,
"No, we're no child-killers. Hells below, we don't even know who... or what that lassie is. We just stumble about like blind men."

Accenting his annoyance, Harald hacks loudly and then spits at the frosty ground before finishing his thoughts with a shrug.

[itches]

"Yes boy," Lade commented his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I must be suggesting that we murder her. There's no other possible way to take what I said."

[BigRedRod]

Harald shrugs,
"You want a straight fight then you hang 'em all and let the Gods sort it out. Or not, you know, with things how they are..."

The conversation ended, the party make their way out of the quarantined area without meeting man or beast again. Emerging through the same, now doorless, portal as they entered the party are offered a quick nod by Seyton, who now stands with only one other guardsman at this particular entry point,
"Good to see you all in one piece. It's calmed down out here after you dragged out that poor fella."
He waves an arm at the deserted street,
"Every idiot who wants to get in has by now and hell, they're probably dead."

Harald sets his sack on the ground,
"Well then. We got this to get to Sophia's father. Before dark really and-"
The northener looks up at the already darkening sky,
"-these blasted winter days won't give us more than another few hours. I've something to be seeing to as well, been neglecting one of my damned duties. So what's the plan?"

[LuneMoonshadow]

"I take no offense to calling the cultists what they are. We are not the same." We can't be...

"All this talk about portals and other worlds is far beyond my knowledge, though," the cleric admits as they make their way to the sector gate. "I've never come across things like this in my travels nor is it in any of the lore I was brought up on. That is why I am hoping - desperately hoping - that there is something in that library that can help us. Otherwise..."

What began as a pause turns into silence as Malkanus realizes that most anything that could be said about the matter at hand would be far more depressing than nothing at all.

When they finally arrive at the gate and meet up with the guardsmen, Malkanus stays quiet for the time being, looking around at the once crowded streets, wondering how many that were standing here hours ago were still alive. Hopefully none of those lucky enough to survive have found the broken tower.

"The plan is to rest well tonight. Every bone in my body will ache come morning and there is no sense overextending ourselves and making it worse. I'll go to the library and get started on the research."

While looking up at the sky the cleric can only wonder how many hours of sleep he'll be getting tonight. Long nights are nothing compared to a loss of innocent lives.

"We're not taking that sack with us. We'll take two of them with us to cover repairs and lodging but the rest go to them," Malkanus says with a nod to the guards. In dark times like these, allies are scarce. The more you have, the better your chances of staying alive. "Let the other guards know that they must keep the civilians out at all costs. Dire events are transpiring behind these walls and one false step could crumble this city."

[itches]

"I'll do it," Lade says taking the sack and walking towards the guards. Pausing as he got there, he transferred a few of heads out into his own bag. "One for repairs," he said as moved them out. "Two for a room and three for some drinks."

Reshouldering the sack the mercenary moved over to Seyton and handed it over.

"Guard duty is cold thirsty work, I've been there. This is just a gift from us that should help keep you warm." Looking past the guard to the quarantine zone, Lade shook his head. "The sooner we find a real solution to that the better, keep telling death stories to anyone who shows up looking for some quick cash and it should keep some out. Anyway we need to be off."

Touching his fingers to his forehead, the man turned and made his way back to the group.

"So, we're looking for an Inn?"

[Flagg Thornington]

Finn draws his cloak tight while he wathces Lade rewarding the guards. Bribery was something he enjoyed, despite the loss of the silver.
"There are many around here though I have only stayed at a couple. We should find someplace quiet and secluded and tend to our assignments."

[BigRedRod]

Finn leads the group to a nearby location of dubious standards. A warming mug of ale and a plate of unmemorable food later and each of the four seem rather more agreeable as they split up to carry out their own various errands before the approaching dark. Harald remains strangely untalkative on exactly what it is he'll be doing, but everybody knows better than to push a northlander.

Rather than rain or snow, the weather has decided to take the ill-favoured middle ground of sleet. Cold, wet, slush falls from the sky as Harald trudges away. Lade and Finn take their, now much light, sack of rat heads and depart from the noble quarter to exchange their grim trophies for coin.

The pair get some strange looks as they enter the rather more specious and heavily guarded region of the city where the various noble estates exist. A large artfully wrought iron gate bears the Franchesca crest, and upon drawing closer, a weary looking gateguard emerges from behind a much smaller metal door set into the tall walls surrounding the manor and its grounds. He opens his mouth to question the pair before he spots the sack, the brown cloth now dyed a horrible wet red colour from the persistent oozings of the severed heads within,
"How many? Three? Right."

Turning back toward his post, he shouts back to somebody unseen,
"Stone! Got another three heads here. Go run up."

Through the gate, the pair spot a younger guard emerge from the other side of the fortification and head, at a leisurely pace despite the bleak weather, toward the manor.

After a few uncomfortable seconds have passed, the older guard(older but still a youth next to Lade) whistles and rolls his shoulders,
"Err, he won't be long. Sooooo... Any good stories? Is it bad as they say in there? not had all that many comin' up for the money actually. Right surprising that."

...

Malkanus walks with determination toward the Grand Plaza, ignoring the glares of the common folk jumping to conclusions based on his garb. He arrives rather sodden at the Magewright's guild, by far the grandest and most ornately detailed of the ornate and grand buildings in the plaza. Up above the huge double doors the chronograph strikes two as Malkanus enters a smaller door set into one of the larger.

Stepping through the portal reveals an entryhall only just as wide as the massive doors and only two dozen feet deep but vast in its height. The walls are tastefully panelled in a dark wood and the only feature of the room appears to be a single desk at the back wall with a wizard sitting at it. Looking around Malkanus realises that there are no other portals leading out of the room aside that which he entered by.

Looking up from his book, the wizard smiles thinly and beckons the cleric forwards,
"Edinway's Association of Magewrights welcomes on this most unclement of days. Allow me to be presumptuous, is it access to our vast archive you would be seeking this afternoon?"
His words are smooth yet neutral much like his overall appearance sitting in the light grey robe with matching pointy hat.

[itches]

"Bad as they say?" Lade snorted. "Worse. It's a slaughter in there, kids and fools with no idea what they're doing rushing in after what they think is easy coin. Easy, ha! Most of them end up killed before they even do anything. I'm not sure what your noble thought would happen with the bounty, but at the very least he's lowering the crowding in the city."

[LuneMoonshadow]

The cleric's first thought as he strode through the city streets would be to remove his heavy, rain-soaked cloak upon entering the library; when the time came and the massive building rose above him, however, that thought had been replaced by a bit of awe and anxiousness at the knowledge contained within the walls.

Now adorned with a genuine smile, which seem to come fewer and far between in recent days, he strides forward to the desk. "I am in great need of information pertaining to," he says in a bit of a rush, though he catches himself and quickly changes directions so as not to give away what it is he will be studying - though he is sure they will find out anyway, "a number of rather untraditional topics that other libraries simply do not have documented in any detail."

[BigRedRod]

The guard laughs at Lade's comment on the over population of the city,
"That'll do it."

Another uneasy silence falls upon the trio, as they shuffle to keep warm and the minutes slowly drip by until eventually from the small door in the wall, the second guardsman reappears holding a small leather coin purse.

While his companion inspects the three heads, staring at Lade's offering with revulsion, the pair are handed their thirty pieces of gold,
"I'm sure that Lord Franchesca sends his thanks for killing some of the vermin that got his daughter. You two enjoy yourselves now."

Their piece said and the exchange made, the pair retreat with their grizzly bounty back inside their post within the wall of the Franchesca estate leaving Finn and Lade out in the cold with their prize.

...

The wizard smiles at Malkanus' words,
"Yes, and that is why the archives are open to good men such as yourself. There is of course the matter of payment. Twenty-five gold pieces for a day amongst some of the most ancient tomes in all of Aos. I am quite sure that you will find what you need. Unless of course you would rather not bother yourself with such work, the guild does offer a service where one of our wizards will compile you a report of considerable detail on any particular subject. We offer complete discretion, of course, albeit we are required to charge rather more for such personal service."

[LuneMoonshadow]

"I would much rather read the words for myself, but I thank you for your offer." As the cleric reaches down for the coins stored in a pouch on his belt, his pauses. "Might I ask how long the payment for today's research will be good for? One day as of now or until night befalls us?"

[BigRedRod]

The kindly wizard answers in his soft voice, evidently he has heard all of these questions before an untold amount of times but manages to avoid a note of weariness from entering his voice.
"Twenty four hours, a complete rotation of the chronograph."

[itches]

Hefting the gold in his hand before tucking it away. Lade glanced over at Finn then down at his own bloody and dirty appearence.

"I don't know about ya lad, but I'm ready for a bath, hot meal and a lot of ale."

[LuneMoonshadow]

The requisite amount of gold finds its way to the counter after the suitable response. With a nod to the Wizard at the desk, Malkanus makes a mental checklist of what he is here to find, ready to use all 24 hours if necessary.

The portal in Broken Tower comes first, then the Attrox and the other ratkin. Lufan and the demon girl are also important but I'm unsure if I will have the time...

[BigRedRod]

In response to the appearance of coin, the grey mage opens up a drawer in the desk and removes from it a squat hour glass and a piece of white paper. The sand timer looks to be made of brass and it's upper bulb is entirely full, the monotonal cream sand within however is showing no attempt at making a descent. With a few deft folds the mage converts the small square of paper into something resembling a bird. He then rises and presents both items to Malkanus,

"The glass is to give you an understanding of for how much longer you may enjoy our services, when it is empty you will be ejected. And this, is your guide, name a subject and it will show you the way. I ask that you not disturb any other patrons of the library and advise you that the deeper reaches of the great library are not entirely safe and any forays into such areas are at your own risk. And now-"

The smiling man gestures behind the cleric to where a doorway now stands, a doorway that was very much not in the east wall a few moments ago,
"-you may begin your studies. I do hope your time proves useful."

Stepping through the doorway Malkanus finds himself in a grand pentagon, perhaps one hundred feet across. Either the library doesn't conform to typical spatial limitations or the door through which the cleric stepped was in reality a portal of some description, given the guild's predisposition for showing off their skills it is hard to say just which is true. At the centre is a drinking fountain and at each point a passage leads off. The sides of the pentagon are, unsurprisingly, bookshelves which touch the ceiling (some fifteen feet up in this entryhall). Books of all shapes and sizes sit on the shelves and every so often a small brass plaque is attached between two shelves to indicate a change of sub-subject or author. It takes only a cursory glance to realise that these books are solely concerned with the library itself, mostly histories.

A slight hiss alerts Malkanus that the sand in his glass has started to move, slowly dropping down to the lower bulb as the first few seconds of his stay tick away. Placing the paper bird into his hand, and feeling slightly self-concious, the cleric whispers his first area of interest,
"Local history."

Immediately the paper reacts by stretching its "wings" outward and then slowly flapping and rising off Malkanus' palm to hover in the air at just above head height. Stepping toward it causes the enchanted paper animal to drift slightly towards one of the four passes. It takes a few more hesitant steps to realise that the library guide is reacting to its client's speed. The faster the cleric moves, the faster the bird flies toward its destination. With this realisation in hand, the cleric strides off confidently out of the pentagon.

Chaos seems to be the guiding principle in the design of the library. Ceiling heights change at random, corridors branch at confusing angles, staircases and ramps, both up and down, are not uncommon and there is no visible source for the omnipresent steady torch-like glow. At one point Malkanus follows his faux-avian companion to the top of a narrow wooden staircase which stops abruptly in the air. Down below the passage continues onwards at ground level while at stairtop height and behind him a little ways are a pair of small square passages carved into the bookshelves themselves. His guide hovers at his right shoulder. It takes a moment, but the cleric notices a pair of brass wheels set upon the railings of the staircase. With a leap of faith he turns the one to his right and is rewarded with slight motion sickness and dizziness as the set of stairs swivel around, eventually linking with one of the raised passages and allowing him to continue.

Every so often the narrow book-lined corridors open up in to small study rooms filled with desks, sheafs of yellow paper, bottles of ink and quill-pens. These usually contain at least one other visitor to the library, some chose to outright ignore the passing figure in his striking garb while others offer him a quick nod before continuing about their business. Encountering anybody in the corridors is a much rarer event, not surprising given how extensive and twisting the corridors seem to be.

Eventually the paper bird stops and lowers itself down to chest height. Recovering his guide, Malkanus looks to the small brass plaques on the shelves around him to find that the enchanted trinket has done as he asked and led him directly to the region of books which concern Edinway's local history. Purposefully the cleric sets off to find out what he can about the history of Broken Tower.

...

Elsewhere, Finn and Lade agree that it's time to spend some of their hard earned cash and get drunk.



-=Chapter End=-

[BigRedRod]

Finn
3550

Malkanus
4000

Lade
3750