Arvoes takes a seat in a nearby chair and mulls over the word Sargonnas "Hmm... No, I am sure I have never heard of Sargonnas. I do know where we can perhaps find some information. There are Archives here in the Official District. Once the guards come, I plan to visit the Archives" 

While sitting on a nearby chair keeping relatively quiet Bran learns towards Arvoes and says, "Thats a sound idea, I would like to come with you, another set of eyes would be helpful methinks in the search of this name". 

Dependant on the outcome of the guards of course ...

Bran bows deeply to the elven guard, "may you hear my account as true elven sister, this assassin is also a cultist was primed to attack a member of our group, he was holding this large scythe weapon, his entire demeanour was totally focussed upon us. Understand he made a move to attack first and failed". Bran bows his head solemnly and continues in a soft saddened voice, "It is not a normal thing for me to end another's life I was overcome with something ... 'different', something I have not experienced before".

He continues with a heightened concern, "Afterwards, I needed to sit and I found myself in a trance, 'words, a calling, and a particular word' came to mind and I cannot shift this word"

The elven guard asks Bran firmly, "Tell me the word", and Bran replies; "Sargonnas!". Bran continues, this time his words are tumbling out of him more forced; "Also the assassins weapon was calling out to me seeking me to hold it and I did, I... I ... continue to hear its soft voice in my mind". And Bran attempts to hand the weapon over and finds he cannot.  

The harengon stands up from his investigation into the dead body and turns his head around to hear. He tilts his head at how much reverence Bran gives down to the guards. They are just... guards. Oh well. 

In hushed hops, he finds himself ever more drawn to the conversation as the words flow from his companion's mouth. It gets worse and worse as he hears it. The fur along his body stands up in a ripple effect. His eyes focus on the weapon.

Nare puts a fuzzy paw on the elf's shoulder.

"Are... are you okay there, Bran?" 

As Harengo stands next to Bran he appreciates the evident care and support offered by his dear friend. "Thank you Harengon, I am OK, tired and need to think, when I go into a trance state I can reconnect with elders past and present and tonight I must do that and contemplate all that has happened. I suspect this weapon is a vital clue to our futures, that and this name Sargonnas, your evident expertise in matters investigatory and your insights will most definitely come in handy as Arvoes and I go to the Archives, will you come with us?

Bran is too tired to await an answer he doesn't intend to come across rude (he rather likes Harengo!) but he makes his way to his room for much needed rest. 

The guard stands up and puts one hand on her hips. "So, the cult of Sargonnas is here. That makes sense," she says with a hint of sadness in her voice. "There is more than enough reason for him to start sniffing around Santekh." She taps the corpse with her feet, "It still doesn't explain why he'd attack your party. No offense, but the addition of mercenaries to our forces only serves Sargonnas's purposes. Seems odd his acolytes would attack you."

Glynnis scratches her head a moment, and chimes in, "Somethin' about interlopers. Don't suppose that means anything to ye, does it?"

You may roll an Insight Check if you wish to receive a hint about what this could mean (different results give different hints).

"No," the guard says. "But we need to get this body cleaned up." She turns to the healer waiting by the entrance who brought her to the crime scene. "Round up a clean-up crew to take this body to the medical tent and preserve it. We'll strip and investigate it tomorrow when the sunlight is working for us." She looks past the healer through the entrance to the purple sky turning a deep navy. "It's getting late. Perhaps in the morning, better lighting will grant us more answers."

"Yes, Miss Kaylan," the healer says, bowing his way out the entrance and scooting off to get help.

Kaylan turns to Bran. "Archives are a good place to start. Buckeran tends to keep late hours, so there's a chance his archives are still open for an hour or two. But he won't let you in covered in blood, sweat and dirt. You'll want to clean up first. A word of caution though. Beware of talking weapons that serve in the hands of cultists. They have a way of... spoiling the soul."

Bran has a short rest and cleans himself up. He's glad to have heeded Miss Kaylan's advice, but he still has the 'talking weapon' in his possession! Maybe the archives can give him more information? With the help of the Golden Company we might just start to make some answers of recent events.

Feeling refreshed and very determined. Bran comes back down from resting and waits for the other Company Members to appear.

[Bran roles an insight check and rolls a 21]

Albert also is a scholar type, so he will gladly join the archive search. Can either help someone to give advantage or give 1d4 on checks from guidance. Your choice.

Albert also cleans up a bit with a damp cloth from his waterskin.

Ne'haredowell pats Bran on the shoulder. Being called his species's name made him give out a little laugh-snort. "Of no problem." His ears flatten against his head as he hears of his story. Then they perk up. "Oh, wow, uh thank you. Yes, of course I will go. Connecting? That much be such a gift-" He removes his hand off as he recognizes that the elf is tired. Nare nods. "Go get some rest."

He goes on to listen to what Glynnis and Kaylan had to say before turning to the bar.

((Insight: 8 + 2 = 10))

Eyeing Bran with the weapon, he wonders how the elf will handle that. Corruption starts small for sure. It won't take long before they worm their way in. He hope that the man has his own plan. Nare hops his way to the bar (if it is still open) and flags down a bartender. "Hello, sorry is this still open?..." He coughs. The dust. "May I get two beers and uh one to go." When given, he fills up his waterskin with as much of the beer it can carry. 'Hope these mushrooms like the taste.'

Arvos takes the guard's adviceand making sure to clean himself and rubs his aching feet. He takes the time to pop his blisters as they were going to burst anyway.  In the morning, he greets the others "Today we visit the Archives" with that he heads off towards the Archives and tries to fine Buckeran Once found he will ask them "I am searching for any information about Sargonnas and the cult that worships it."

Insight Roll

7 rolled in game log

Darian also heads to the Archives in search of maps of the kobold territories.

Survival (19+4+2 = 25) with favoured terrain bonus

Glynnis nods at Nare and pours a mug of Fluq. "We're closin' early, seein' as how there's blood on me floor. But, ye've had a rough night. Least I can do, I s'pose. 12 copper, please."

Please remove 12 CP from your inventory.

Once coin is given, she slides the mugs to you and pours the "to go" drink into your provided waterskin.

An hour passes before the party is ready to set out to the Archives...

The sun, weary from a day of scorching the dunes of Khur, gives way to cold stars that bring in a much needed cooling breeze. With little time left before the Archives close for the night, Bran, Albert, Ne'haredowell, and Darian head to the Archives to learn what they may.

The archive is a stout, but sturdy stone structure that doesn't appear to have required much restoration to make it usable. It doesn't look like it was designed to be a library originally, perhaps a jail or a bunker to make a final stand, and it's hard to imagine that many books or scrolls could even be stored there. But when you get inside, you can see that the walls have been fitted, floor to ceiling with shelves and cubbies that are crammed and double stacked with all manner of lore, as well as sextants, compasses, and historical relics with ancient inscriptions on them. There's so much stuff crammed into the place, that a medium sized humanoid could barely manage to move around in it. And in the center of all of it is Buckeran, a fancy looking kender with a receding hairline and long, bushy eyebrows. He's sunk deeply into a plush armchair and hunched over his reading desk. His prominent nose is buried deep in a textbook perched precariously closely to a thick white candle lit with three wicks. The warm glow of the candlelight makes the cramped setting feel almost cozy.

The noise of your arrival pulls him from his studies, and he looks up at you through bloodshot eyes, one comically enhanced by a magnifying monocle that grants you the privilege of seeing each throbbing vein of his overworked eye.

"Touch nothing!" He snaps at you in an unusually high voice. "At least not until I've seen your hands. The oils and dirt could ruin these precious documents!" He struggles to dislodge himself from the imprint he's made on his chair and then limps towards you on stiff knees and ankles. Once he's had a good look at your hands (or paws) those of you who took the time to wash up properly are allowed to peruse the materials, so long as they handle the documents with care. Those who didn't are expected to keep their hands (or paws) planted firmly in their pockets and are permitted to ask questions of Buckeran. If he knows the answer, or knows where to look it up, he will do so for you. But he seems thouroughly disgusted with everyone except Bran who took a bath. Clearly Buckeran has an issue with germs and dirt. Bran and Arvos's questions about Sargonnas are relatively easily answered. "Sargonnas, Lawful Evil, (Better known as Torghan the Avenger in this region) is the god of wrath, vengeance, and retribution. He is a god without compassion or mercy. Though he works in the hearts of all mortals, his favored children are the minotaurs. Minotaurs refer to him as Sargas, who represents power gained through brute strength and held with honor. Sargonnas appears to minotaurs as a gigantic minotaur with either char-black fur or blood-red fur. Also Known As:Argon (Istar/Ergoth) The Bull God Dark Vengeance Destroyer (Mithas) The Firebringer (Hylo) Gonnas the Willful (Icereach) Kinis (Qualinesti) Kinthalas (Silvanesti) Lord of Wastes (Khur) Misal-Lasim (Tarsis) The Red Condor Sargas (Mithas) Sargonax the Bender (Thorbardin) Torghan the Avenger (Khur)" But you also discover some interesting manuscripts on local Draconic lore, which Buckeron is also excited to talk to you about. "As you can see from these signs, I have a theory that this famine and drought is the direct result of the slaying of an adult Brass Dragon!" He giggles with excitement as he turns to an atlas and spreads it out before you on his desk. He jams a finger on a spot in the desert where an oasis is marked. At first, it looks like he's flipping you off until you realize that he's missing many of his fingers from each of his hands. "Here! This was once a lush oasis, ripe with date palms and succulent plants until recently, when everything just dried up. And not just the oasis, but the whole region for miles!. Lore says it was a Brass Dragon's nest. As you know, the metallic dragons were all driven from their layers by Takhisis. My theory is that this one stayed and was discovered, to its demise." Buckeran shakes his head mournfully. "A pity, yes. But when an adult dragon leaves a nest willingly or dies of natural causes, its magic continues to enchant the land for ages, sometimes centuries after abandonment. However, when an adult dragon is slain, the land becomes cursed. And that can happen within moments of its death!" He claps his claw-like hands. "Don't you see? There could be a way to cleanse the land and- AND find a rather generous horde of treasure at the same time!"

Before you can touch his precious atlas though, he snatches it away and in one swift motion closes it and tucks under his arm protectively. "I share this information with you willingly, but for a cost!" He licks his lips nervously as he prepares to broker a deal. "I wish to come with you. As your Patron," his lip trembles with excitement as nervous sweat beads on his brow. "I'm not much help in a fight, but I have other resources! I'm an excellent source of knowledge regarding the locations and value of powerful relics in this region and ooh-ooh!" His bushy eyebrows come together to form a pitiable mountain silhouette of hair, "I would so love to see a dragon horde!"

Meanwhile, Darian scours various scrolls and maps and finds three rather helpful resources:

• One detailed map of the desert near the Khalkist Mountains (1 full round grants you an automatic 20, plus your bonuses, when navigating the mountain range near area 20 on the interactive map, which include the southernmost peaks of the mountain range to Ak-Krin and the surrounding trail).
• One crude map of the mountain trade routes that the Hachakee have used to trade and barter with kobolds in the past, which will reduce your likelihood of random encounters along the mountain trails, and reduce the likelihood of encountering kobold ambushes or traps within the mountain tunnels.
• One Yipyak phrase book used to Hachakee traders to establish trust before entering a barter agreement. It won't make you fluent, but you can sometimes glean context from the few words you'll now know (Roll an INT check when hearing or speaking Yipyak, DC 10 to get make out a few words, 12 to get a rough idea, and 15 to be able to string together a sentence).

Darian then looks over the maps and scrolls he found, carefully considering their contents. “Found resources… maps, scrolls. Guide us to Letni Inhelk territory. Know traditions, respect queen. Maybe… no fight needed.”

He nods to Buckeran, acknowledging his excitement and expertise. “Your knowledge… important, but supplies more important. Many will suffer without… supplies.”

Little information was found regarding the scythe weapon. It may be OK overall. Time will tell. Now with all this valuable information and the forming of a plan it's time to take action and Bran is ready.

Bran, is very impressed with Buckeran and sees the logic in having join the Company. He agrees with Darian's assessment, the people need these supplies as soon as we can get organised.

Albert is extremely excited to see such a vast collection of knowledge, but at this time he has no questions that needs to be answered. He looks at everything and asks the kender: "Oh it sounds marvelous that you will join our party. Knowledge always trumps raw power as my old master used to say. The maps you provided seem extremely valuable, but maybe you have something that might help us navigate? Maybe you can take a sextant or a compass with you, so we don't get lost? That happens even to the best of us. As they say in my homeland - lost in three pine forest"

Arvos nods during Buckeran explanation and agrees he would be as asset "Of course you can come with us as you could be our lore master at times when we need to learn more about Khur. I am surprised to learn that all the famine and drought happened because of the death of a Brass dragon." He then looks to Darian "I agree the hunt for the supplies must come first before we seek this dried up oasis" He looks at everyone in the archives "I plan to turn in for the night. Let's leave tomorrow at first light"  

Heads back to his room and goes to sleep. 

In the morning, he picks up the mule and cart from Glynnis and heads to the location of the ransacked caravan. 

"Thanks. Sorry." He whimpers out an apology. Right. He forgot to really pay any respects for the dead. That would have to wait 'til morning. Do you really mourn a man who tried to kill you? Well, not you specifically. But oh well. The shadows within him swirled and all he could think was of getting that drink. He gives Glynnis and extra gold tip. He flips it into the tip jar beside her.

The bags under his eyes weighed heavy. He downs the first ale in an instant and then ruminates on the next for the next hour. He thought about how much he drowned his sorrows in drink. Nearly every night before his coming here. Maybe he was like those mushrooms.

Off in the dunes the sand went and sunk under his footsteps. His hops were a bit more uneven as Lennie had a bit of a tough time staying on his shoulder. The ale here was potent. Not much like the ones he stole- uh borrowed- back home. It was only two! The little mouse decided that it was time to jump ship for a bit and scurried on forward, though taking pauses of reprieve to wait for his owner to go catch up with him. 'Thanks buddy.' The harengon thought to the gray mouse. The mouse did not reply. 

'We're here.'

With a sigh, he looked up to the domes and arches that filled the municipal gateway. The stars (one even perfectly aligning with the dome) made it seem like a palace. Though, of course, he knew once he got inside that he must have had bequeathed too much grander in his first impression. The place inside was stuffy, warm, and kept. Kept too neatly. Before anyone could warn him he has already picked up a compass. He always like to mess with these things. But things always went south. Putting his finger on the edges he traces the circumference and the little needle follows. His little mouse bites him. Groggily, he still has enough time to look up. Oh! Sorry. A stout kender ('is he wearing a monocle? in this day and age? ugh. no style.') is there in the room with them. He stealthily puts the compass down just in time for the man to see him go near it. Luckily he thought it was a pick up not a put back. He offers his hands up as he steps to the side. 

The rest of the tour goes down as expected. He gets his hands washed down. 'Ugh water.'  And later he gets to paw at some papers. Yawn. No actually. He was yawning. In his head he jots down notes but somehow it gets too blurry that he gives up. Sargonnas. God of evil. Weapon of evil. Venganceee. Got that. He pushes his mask down further to mask a yawn. But how to stop said evil? Comes up short. Figures. 

His ears perk up at the talk of dragon lore. And dates. And plants. 'So this wasn't of natural causes.' He watches Buckeran's pointed fingers with unease. His ears turn to listen to Albert. "Okay. Yeah me too." Ne'haredowell nods his head, "I've never seen a dragon up close before. Even if dead. My hunch is that the body still rotting there." He pauses to stare at the compass he was holding earlier, "Thank you for sharing this knowledge to us." He puts his paw on the kender's shoulders, "You should get some sleep. We're heading out early in the morn'. Welcome to the Company." And with that he hops off.

Bran, sees the importance of gathering everyone together to move forward. 

Brans rolls insight and rolls 15 into each member of the team ready to prepare and move forward - now we have gone to the archives.

Darian takes a sextant off the shelf and hands it to Albert with a smile, “Feel… better?” he asks maintaining eye contact. It remains ambiguous whether this is a passive-aggressive response to the idea that he might get them lost or whether he simply misunderstood the priest’s meaning.