"Hold on! Slow down a bit!" Irmiel admired Sisri's resolve but could not stay calm in the light of so many and so huge revelations. The legends of the past were coming to life one after another and people acted as if it was everyday events. "We were up against Larloch here?! How are we still alive?!" Actually, it was not that strange, they meant less than a few mosquitos to an elephant, compare to the legendary rival of the gods, he probably did not even notice the group's presence. But it was an opportunity (not to hunt down the archlich, of course, but the information) "So, this is the section with all the information bout ruins? Can we... maybe... since we kind of cross paths with Larloch and probably got his attention... can we look through the books here as well? As a precaution to save our lives?" It was a bit stretching, but how would you get anything if you do not ask about it?

Teles meets Irmiel's eyes with a steady look, unperturbed by Irmiel's sudden revelation, "It takes years of dedication and focus to be allowed where you stand. Rarely to outsiders get access to the library at all, let alone to these ancient stacks. Besides, we have inventory to perform, copies to locate and more copies to make."  She rubs her forehead and waves Sistri off, "Thank you, that is enough for now."  She glances back at Irmiel, "Return to the court of air. I will consider you request but now is not the time."

Kris gets the sense that arguing with Teles further will only undermine the good graces they currently enjoy.  "Of course!  We look forward to an opportunity to debrief you on all of our observations."  She adds this last bit to tease at the idea that they have potentially valuable information for Teles and the Council.  In truth, they had probably less information than the others in the library when they entered, but anything to maintain this tenuous connection with the council.

Kris talks a mile a minute as they make their way to the Court of Air.  "Wow, not one lich, but three?  Four?  How many were there, anyway?  I don't know much about lichery at all, but I have heard they're extremely powerful, and evil.  Score one for Charlie's Company, making it out of there in one piece!  You know, being as powerful as a lich, I'm not sure if I'd enjoy working for an employer whose title is 'puppet master'.  I mean, what does that say about his followers?"

Sistri smiles at Irmiel as she sees her excitement at the mention of the legendary being.  After Teles stands firm against Irmiel's request and dismisses her, she tells Irmiel, "Come. Miss Ahvoste has asked us to stay at Candlekeep and promised to speak with us later. Let's go and let her complete her tasks."

As they head out, she adds, "I'm not sure I know much about Larloch. Perhaps you can tell me more.  It is rather exciting to have been here in Candlekeep, eye witness to these attacks. Amazing!" Sistri let's a bit of excitement show through in her voice.

She then listens to Kris' lengthy talk, staying alongside Irmiel.  Once Kris stops, she speaks up.  "We are probably only alive because we meant nothing to their goals. As much as I'm disappointed that we couldn't save that pack, I wonder how we'd have fared in a full fight."  Her shoulders slump a bit in disappointment in knowing how out-classed they seemed to be against this enemy. "I only hope we were enough of a distraction to allow others to take advantage."

It was worth a try but Irmiel was not going to push anything, of course. A pity they could not save the books (that would sure help!), still, there was a chance for some special (hopefully good) treatment. "Of course, Miss Ahvoste, we are going. Looking forward to our meeting later," diplomatically finished Irmiel conversation, and left the room with others, on the way theorise about liches and their powers. (Arcana 24 )

The group is escorted back out the library, in an as kindly way as possible by the guards. On the way, Irmiel tells what she knows about Lichs. They are great and powerful wizards who lust for power drives them to seek immortality. They achieve this by locking their own soul into container of some sort. The container is specially crafted and often requires a very unique method for destroying them. With their soul locked away and safe, their body is slain and the rise again, an undead skeleton, with all their powers and more. This is an unholy rite though, and they must needs sacrifice people to complete it, and likewise must feed their phylactery, the container of their soul, regularly.  If they do this, then even if they are destroyed, ten days later they will rise up once again, near their phylactery and become whole.  If they don't feed souls into it, they waste away, forgetting what they knew, becoming mindless terrible undead who can't quite understand who they are or why they exist.....but even so, a few souls sacrificed to their phylactery and they can once again become whole.  She knows that weapons that are not magical can not even harm them. 

The guards nod in a kindly way, one saying, "Thank you all for your help...you were very brave."  

Sending you on your way you go through the emerald doors and find yourself back in the court of air, it's wide open space. The sky overhead shimmers with a magical field...the legendary Mythal of Candlekeep. Exhausted, and realizing its night time, you are relieved to find yourselves able to head to sleep. One and all, your sleep is heavy and restful with exhaustion, but your dreams are active, strange ghost dragons and undead, chases in dark tunnels and more seem to merge with images of books and tables, and stirs your mind up with anxiety. 

(Long Rest achieved, you may LEVEL UP)

The next morning you leave the House of Rest and over to the Hearth for some breakfast. The Mythal is no longer hanging in the sky, instead the sky is blue and dotted with clouds. The place is abuzz with discussions about what had happened the previous night and you hear more than a couple wild theories that don't match reality.  Irony approaches as you're half-way through the meal.   He looks...nervous? 

"Ahem, oh...hello...I don't mean to disturb you...but...I have received summons for you that you are to be brought to the Council of the Eight Great Readers."  

Tables nearby go silent as they overhear this, and curious eyes look appraisingly at the group.  

Irony continues, his hands folding over each other repeatedly, "Um....you may finish your meal of course, I will wait by the door. Um..don't take too long though, we are to be there relatively soon."

(Character leveled up!) 

Sistri can't help but smile as Irony comes and delivers the message that the Council wishes to see them. "Oh, of course Irony, I'm sure we'll be right there."  She picks at her food for a moment, but after a couple of bites she says, "Ok, I'm ready go. Are you guys ready?"  She really wishes she could just pretend that this was no big deal, but she is rather interested to see what this Council will say.  And perhaps gain some information that might help them along with their search.  

 Irmiel woke up early, though, not because of the nightmares. They played the part, yes, but not entirely the bad one. The next one getting up found her sitting cross-legged on the bed surrounded by papers covered in all kinds of symbols and magical formulas. "I think I got it!" Declared pink-haired girls waving one of the papers with particularly complicated writings. "The enormous resistance of those liches - remember?" It was a rhetorical question, she did not expect an answer. "Not that I solved it all, but I am sure I am on the right way to at least make it less effective." She thought a little, staring at the space in from of her. "I am pretty sure I did. Need some field tests, though."

She continued to think and calculate something during the breakfast, and almost missed Irony's nervous appearance. There was nothing unexpected in the invitation (or was it? There was supposed to be some kind of meeting, right? About the visit to the restricted section? Never mind!) so, on her part, she just nodded, swallowed another spoonful of whatever she was eating (she was not sure and did not pay much attention), made one more note on the paper and finally fully returned to the reality following Sistri's voice. "Yes, let's just go and see what is it all about."

Kris finds Irmiel surrounded by her papers.  "Well, I certainly hope it works!  I didn't sleep well either.  I dreamed of a genie--the one I released from its lamp a couple of years ago.  Dull story.  Anyway, in the dream it was sitting at a desk, and the genie was dressed as my governess, trying to teach me a magical spell.  I couldn't get it right, and it got angry and slammed its fist on the desk.  I woke up and I swear the bed was shaking."

Later, Kris sits at breakfast holding a piece of toast in one hand and a tiny butter knife in the other.  She spreads the butter on her toast with surgeon's accuracy, creating a perfectly uniform layer of creamy yellow right to, but not over, the edge of the crust.  Closing her eyes, she takes a small bite and chews with relish, twenty times in fact, before an uncannily silent sip from her teacup (pinky extended).

"Well, it would be rude to keep them waiting.  Let's not tarry!"

Irony, nervous and flighty like an autumn leaf still clinging to its branch....leads the group across the open courtyard and to the large green doors which open to admit the lot of you. For some of you your breakfast is having troubles settling...grumbling inside your stomachs...though it could be for excitement, or for nervousness.  For others, distracted with other thoughts, the journey moves by in a blur. 

Guards are everyone within the library proper and you're walked past a gate house, up some stairs, and towards the huge central tower known as the Tower of Exaltation. You're walked down a long winding path, up some stairs, and in through the main gateway. You've been here before, but in more rushed circumstances. Irony leads you up the main stairs, then around to another stairway, and up until you're eventually on the 4th floor and walking down a carpeted hallway. A half dozen guards line the hallway and watch the group. Through their helms you see some bruises and wounds, and recognize at least one face.....that gives you a wink.

You reach the large double doors, outside which are a few stone benches....and Irony motions you to the benches.  "Now we wait."

And wait you do...time slowly ticks by. You can vaguely hear the sound of voices through the heavy oak doors, but nothing well enough to make out...except you do hear raised voices more than once.  Eventually, perhaps 20 minutes later, the door crack open and a face looks out, confirming your presence, before pushing the door open more fully and admitted you. 

The room beyond is round, and at the center of this grand tower. The ceiling arches way up overhead, with small and smaller round spaces, each with glass windows lining them admitting the day light to pour inside. The ceiling is beautifully painted with a mural of the sky, with books flying through it like birds, and angels laying on clouds reading in pleasure. As the painting flows down the walls you see it depicts a vast city, all interspersed with greenery, with people reading everywhere. 

A large semi circle stone table fills half the room. It has 8 large chairs, but only five of them are occupied. Teles Ahvoste is among them. You also see an older bronze dragonborn, the other woman from the battle, a halfling male, and a githzeria man. 

There appears to be nowhere to sit. 

"Greetings. Please, if we can, I would like to start with introductions. We are 5 of the 8 Great Readers that form the council of Candlekeep. I am Great Reader Teles Ahvoste, we of course have already met. I am an expert on magic items, curses, and the weave. This here is Alkrist (she motions to the dragonborn). Alkrist is an expert on politics, military strategy, and significant battles in history.  You sort of met A’lai Aivenmore yesterday, she is a divine servant of Oghma, and our expert on all things divine. (Next the halfling) Fheminor Scrivenbark is our resident expert on history, folklore, and cultures of Toril, both past and present.  Last but not least, we have V’ziir-Ag, he is an expert on all things unnatural, such as aberrations, the far realms and undead. Now, if you could all introduce yourselves please." 

Kris gives a perfect bow.  Again, it feels wrong to curtsy in leather.  "I am Kris, a benefactress of the Ablethorns of Suzail, Cormyr.  Now an 'aventurer in the employee of Charlie's Company, along with my very capable associates."  She gives the surname of her governess, Ms. Ablethorn.  The statement, while misleading, isn't patently false, as she had received the benefit of Ms. Ablethorn's tutelage.  And the Ablethorns were a respectable house, at least at one time, albeit one whose fortune had waned in recent decades.  Not that there are likely to be any Truesilvers in Candlekeep just now, but the money at their disposal could certainly hire people to search for her.

"It is such a great honor to be seen by the Great Readers."

Llwyd had no idea who Larloch was, but he had to agree with Teles that something should be happening. Would this lich master of liches serve the Netherese? Maybe ally with them? The contrary could also be true. He could be an enemy of the Shadovar and have decided to act to bar them from finding the Mythallar. Either way, whatever motivated the Shadovar to move was sensed by the undead mage and made himself decide to move.

The satyr nodded his head accepting the Avowed instruction to return to the Court of Air. He waited to be called to help with the injured, but no such thing happened. In part this was a relief. Meant that the number of wounded was small. Something good at least, he thought as they returned to their room. His thoughts shifting towards how the liches entered in the first place. Could it be that someone inside Candlekeeper lower its defenses? He fell asleep contemplating the possibility.

Next day his forces returned and the entire battle felt like a dream. A sensation that didn’t survive long after Irony appeared. They had been called. The way to Council was a blur in which he cold not help, but to repeat the questions from the night before. They were enough to make him barely notice the wait.

“I am Llwyd.” He said after Kris. A moment of silence suggested that something more was expected to be said. “I…” Had no idea about what else to say. “…am from a Druid Circle from what I believe you would call the King’s Forest. Also with Charlie’s Company.”

Sistri then follows. "I am Sistri Runeswallow, a member of the Knights of the Unicorn, and servant of Miekilli.  With the others, I am also a member of Charlie's Company.  It is an honor to meet all of you."

She makes a respectful bow. "How can we help you?"

Irmiel's introduction was probably the shortest: "Irmiel Nerien." She paused just for a briefest of moments to add at least some significance to the name. "Of Archenbridge. A scholar and adventurer. Currently in the employment of Charlie's company." The middle part was a bit wobbly but she had a feeling the people here did not care all that much about little details.

Despite her brief and tailing introduction, Irmiel gets the most attention as A'lai nods in appreciation and says, "It is good to see that your mercenary company values scholars. I find all too often that they are led by hardened warriors and value only martial skills. But, I see a bright future in the Charlie's Company if they are valuing one such as you." 

Teles continues, "Indeed, our thanks go to Charlie's Company for assisting during the breach of security. The council has discussed it, and agreed.  First off, we would like you to know that we have waived the penalties normally suited for unauthorized persons entering the library proper. You are forgiven for your trespasses, this time.  Secondly, we in fact would like to thank you for your bravery. You are hear-by recognized by the council of Great Readers for your bravery and selflessness in coming to our assistance during this attack."  

With that, they all nod to you, and then turn amongst each other and begin chatting. A servant by the door behind you pulls the door open. It would appear as if your audience has come to an end.

Irmiel's cheeks became the colour of her hair - the compliments were not something she was used to. It was such a nice feeling, she almost missed the second part of the speech. Apparently, they were summoned here to be granted a pardon. Could be a big deal, sure, if they (or at least she) knew they were guilty and expected some severe punishment. The thought returned the normal colour to her face and Irmiel looked at the Council with the curiosity of a scientist studying the rare insect. She could never understand the idea of following the letter and not the spirit of any law and this display of bureaucratic power was fascinating.

"Our pleasure. We are deeply sorry that our effort was in vain." She did not know what else to add (it felt like any kind of request was very untimely) but was not sure what is the procedure for leaving that Very Important Chamber, so remained on her spot.

Sistri looks very taken aback at the pronouncement that penalties against then had been waived. Her face reddens, though not in embarrassment, as with Irmiel, but in agitation. She manages to stay still and keep her thoughts to herself.  Then as the members of the Council abruptly turns back to their discussions and ignored them, Sistri clenched her hands into fists, though still standing respectfully in place.

With the servant opening the door it seems clear they are expected to leave. She bows gracefully toward the assembled group, despitde the fact they are not paying attention. She then turns to leave.  Seeing Irmiel's hesitation, she wordlessly steps over to her, nudging her to just follow. 

"Well, that went well!" Kris says brightly to the group.  She turns back to the Council.  "Ahem, excuse me?  How do you plan to reclaim the stolen books?"

The council all stop their chatting and look at Kris. A couple of them with bug eyes.  The servant at the door splutters. 

Teles clears her throat and responds, "Thank you for the concern young warrior, but that is council business and not your problem. You have not been granted any sort of status that would allow you to address this council in such a manner. Your crimes and bravery balance out and you are allowed to continue as Seekers from the court of air. This audience is at an end." 

Though she's said it is at an end, the entire council is now focused once again on the group. Though it's clear that the attention from a couple of them, the dragonkin especially, is likely unwanted attention.

That seemed like a good prompt to leave. After a moment of hesitation, Irmiel bowed her head to the court, turned and followed Sistri out. Good gods, are they serious? They definitely are! "Lesson learned," (that was said well outside, of course), "next time we see the library on fire or someone being murdered - we run in the opposite direction!"