Sidebar: The Fox in the Library
1 Frostbreak, 1336 CE. Sunset. Second Cycle.
Blight and Scrunge break off for the evening. The plan is simple. In three days, Archmage Hamish will be assassinated. Until then, the three of you agree to splinter off and perform reconnaissance. Blight heads to the Endless Flagon, a high-class speakeasy frequented by the aristocracy of Circopolis. Scrunge visits The Library, one of the most popular taverns amongst students of the Spellweavers' Circle. You watch as they turn down the hall, their silhouettes stretching across the floor as they leave the building.
For the first time in nearly a month, you are alone. You feel a migraine come on as you mentally correct yourself. Ostensibly, it has only been ten days since you set foot in the ruins of Bysmal. But you have lived those ten days, three times over. You have died, twice. You have made it to Circopolis with the The Chronowitch's Spellbook, exactly once. Your best clue to escaping this hellish cycle appears to lie somewhere within its pages, and your former mentor may be the only person who can translate them.
It makes sense for someone to remain behind and monitor Professor Brennon, and you are uniquely equipped for the job. Blight left the door to his office ajar, and you slink back in. His office more closely resembles a disheveled library, overflowing with books on shelves, books in piles, and apparently - you notice a few planks stretching across two towers of tomes, an empty plate and chalice rest atop - books as furniture. Plenty of nooks for a fox to hide within.
Brennon, it appears, wasted no time before investigating the Spellbook. He sits at his desk as he gingerly thumbs through the book's vellum pages, muttering to himself. "Classic adventurer behavior. Presented with an artifact of immeasurable academic value, they're fixating on how it can best help them." He pauses, and shakes his head before continuing. "Of course, if I were apparently cursed to die and resurrect indefinitely, I would probably do the same."
He rises, turns, and wheels over an apparatus much like the one used by Reflection. The device has a dark, flat, and glossy surface which resembles obsidian, and is attached to legs affixed with caster wheels. Evidently, one can quickly write, edit, and resize text upon the gadget with a magical stylus. Brennon quickly scrawls four words across the top, evidently making a chart to map his forays into the Spellbook. They read as follows:
Brennon pauses to inspect the categories, and belatedly adds one more with a harrumph:
With a flick of the stylus, the five words shrink and vertical lines spring between them, dividing the board into five columns. He pushes the arcane blackboard, rotating it away from you, and turns back toward the book. He blinks, and when his eyes open again, they are milky white - the same magic he used to scry the book earlier.
You curse under your breath, realizing that Brennon has unintentionally turned his research notes away from you. He is so distracted with his research that he will not likely notice if you try to reposition. Spying a particularly comfortable-looking pile of papers under a bookshelf, you carefully pad your way across the room.
Kizme rolls a stealth check at +10. Brennon is distracted, deep within his academic pursuits. His office is poorly lit and piled high with books, perfect for hiding. The DC is 17. Kizme rolls 16.
It has been a while since you have assumed your vulpine form - so long, in fact, that you have forgotten what it is like to have a tail. As you pass a stack of textbooks, tail held unintentionally high, you brush some loose papers. They cascade to the floor, rustling.
Brennon startles, blinking his eyes to dispell whatever magic allows him to read the book. "What the - who goes there?!"
You must make a decision.
You decide keeping Brennon safe is too important, and elect to stay put. His office is in such a state, you reason, he will likely assume a precarious pile of paper finally tipped over. You duck behind the nearest stack of books, hoping Brennon will not notice the fox in his office. He stands and begins to approach.
Brennon has a +2 to Perception. The DC is 16. He rolls 21.
Blight and Scrunge break off for the evening. The plan is simple. In three days, Archmage Hamish will be assassinated. Until then, the three of you agree to splinter off and perform reconnaissance. Blight heads to the Endless Flagon, a high-class speakeasy frequented by the aristocracy of Circopolis. Scrunge visits The Library, one of the most popular taverns amongst students of the Spellweavers' Circle. You watch as they turn down the hall, their silhouettes stretching across the floor as they leave the building.
For the first time in nearly a month, you are alone. You feel a migraine come on as you mentally correct yourself. Ostensibly, it has only been ten days since you set foot in the ruins of Bysmal. But you have lived those ten days, three times over. You have died, twice. You have made it to Circopolis with the The Chronowitch's Spellbook, exactly once. Your best clue to escaping this hellish cycle appears to lie somewhere within its pages, and your former mentor may be the only person who can translate them.
It makes sense for someone to remain behind and monitor Professor Brennon, and you are uniquely equipped for the job. Blight left the door to his office ajar, and you slink back in. His office more closely resembles a disheveled library, overflowing with books on shelves, books in piles, and apparently - you notice a few planks stretching across two towers of tomes, an empty plate and chalice rest atop - books as furniture. Plenty of nooks for a fox to hide within.
Brennon, it appears, wasted no time before investigating the Spellbook. He sits at his desk as he gingerly thumbs through the book's vellum pages, muttering to himself. "Classic adventurer behavior. Presented with an artifact of immeasurable academic value, they're fixating on how it can best help them." He pauses, and shakes his head before continuing. "Of course, if I were apparently cursed to die and resurrect indefinitely, I would probably do the same."
He rises, turns, and wheels over an apparatus much like the one used by Reflection. The device has a dark, flat, and glossy surface which resembles obsidian, and is attached to legs affixed with caster wheels. Evidently, one can quickly write, edit, and resize text upon the gadget with a magical stylus. Brennon quickly scrawls four words across the top, evidently making a chart to map his forays into the Spellbook. They read as follows:
- Relic
- Anchor
- Chronomancy
- Enemies
Brennon pauses to inspect the categories, and belatedly adds one more with a harrumph:
- Findings of academic note
With a flick of the stylus, the five words shrink and vertical lines spring between them, dividing the board into five columns. He pushes the arcane blackboard, rotating it away from you, and turns back toward the book. He blinks, and when his eyes open again, they are milky white - the same magic he used to scry the book earlier.
You curse under your breath, realizing that Brennon has unintentionally turned his research notes away from you. He is so distracted with his research that he will not likely notice if you try to reposition. Spying a particularly comfortable-looking pile of papers under a bookshelf, you carefully pad your way across the room.
Kizme rolls a stealth check at +10. Brennon is distracted, deep within his academic pursuits. His office is poorly lit and piled high with books, perfect for hiding. The DC is 17. Kizme rolls 16.
It has been a while since you have assumed your vulpine form - so long, in fact, that you have forgotten what it is like to have a tail. As you pass a stack of textbooks, tail held unintentionally high, you brush some loose papers. They cascade to the floor, rustling.
Brennon startles, blinking his eyes to dispell whatever magic allows him to read the book. "What the - who goes there?!"
You must make a decision.
- Brennon has never seen your fox form - if you dart out of the still open door, he will likely assume a wild animal somehow made it into his office. The place is a pigpen. OR
- Brennon is not the enemy. So what if he knows you stayed behind to keep him safe? OR
- Is there another way out of this situation?
You decide keeping Brennon safe is too important, and elect to stay put. His office is in such a state, you reason, he will likely assume a precarious pile of paper finally tipped over. You duck behind the nearest stack of books, hoping Brennon will not notice the fox in his office. He stands and begins to approach.
Brennon has a +2 to Perception. The DC is 16. He rolls 21.
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