Erudisia taps her finger on her chin, directing her next comments at the sterner woman of the pair.
”That was the one, that was the one. Do you make your own copies? I’d love to see an original, or if not the original then any copies which remain, even if they are not strictly for sale. Do you know the copier if not in-house? You must have a way of securing more, I presume, for such a valuable text — though it is not arcane — or else you would not know it was sold so precisely, when so many books must pass through your hands with such a business.”
The woman quirks a brow. "Make our own? Do you see the word 'scribe' in our name? Or, 'bookstore'? We sell 'em, we don't write 'em. The copier? That is a question for our manager. I know it was sold precisely because it was one of our valuable books." She gestures to the chest behind her, which, turned on its side, shows the very fine bindings of perhaps two dozen books. "We sell them for 250gp each, so yes, I remember specifics."
As she speaks, a clocktower on the far side of The Wide starts tolling the hour. The sun is high and the time is 12 o'clock noon.
“I admit, although I am a scholar of Candlekeep, my interest in the tome is not purely academic. I entered the great scholar’s refuge under the instruction of my Patron, a genie of wealth and cerebral interests, and he directs me to such rare treasures to acquire for his own library when the opportunity arises. His wealth is, truly, beyond imagination.
“Forgive me Bell, Meredith, Little One — this other business will only take a small moment and then we can continue our investigation for magical books at the other booksellers stalls in short order, as there is little magical for us here.” Erudisia lies, with a ‘go along with it’ gesture.
At this last, the woman's brow crinkles almost imperceptibly, and she and the salesman exchange a very quick glance which you almost miss. Erudisia senses that the woman smells something fishy. (OOC: now the saleswoman critted her Insight roll!). Her expression and tone are almost unnervingly flat and unwavering when she says, looking Erudisia calmly in the eye, "There are rare books for sale. Perhaps such as we've got may not interest your patron, or perhaps they would. But only the manager makes those kinds of sales."
“Yes,” comes a voice from behind you. Just as you remove your eyes from the booksellers and turn your gaze to see the owner of this new voice, you catch, in your periphery, what looks like the slightest look of relief in the booksellers’ faces.
“Yes, thank you, Avani,” the voice continues, and you see it belongs to another Amnian woman, perhaps in her early 30s, wearing a midnight blue hijab over a chiton and himation pair in matching blues. Her voice is low and firm, and carries an edge of authority such that you may have half-expected to see a member of the Flaming Fist standing in full armor rather than an attractive, tall and poised woman. For tall she is, just over six feet, you might guess, a full head taller than Erudisia. She now addresses you four.
Meredith is stunned into silence by Erudisias skills and deeply shamed by those on display from the merchants........I was very bad at sales......good at customer service but absolute rubbish at sales.......I wonder if that's why he sent me north.......
She turned at the sound of the managers voice and taking in the woman's impressive wardrobe and demeanour stammered, " Good, uh, Business, Auntie...Sayyida....Al-Hurra..."
Erudisia’s eyes linger on the rare books, then turn to see where the three booksellers stand in relation to each other and her friends. She steps back from the Amnians, putting ten feet between them if she can without making it unduly overt.
”Little One,” she asks, “might you be so kind as to stand at the entrance of the shop, to avoid unwanted eyes and ears.” She grimaces apologetically at the newest woman. “Rumours fly so easily, and this is a sensitive matter — Avani, are the rarer books also for perusal?”
Erudisia heads towards the chest before an affirmation is given to read the spines, but will not touch them without approval.
As she does so she repeats what Bell has said previously. She advises on the purpose of the Scholar’s Shield, the attacks, and what their informants have told them, and the risk of further attacks. She doesn’t have to spell out the consequences for the seller of such poisoned chalices, but she is a true academic and so she does so anyway, including it in her discussion and the logical conclusion for any accomplice that might follow continuing events, despite its obviousness.
“Oh,” she says, finally, “I did not lie about my Patron, the Arch-Duke of Air, a potent Djinni prince of the elemental planes and his bookish interests. Do you have an order catalogue; are you amenable to courier delivery?”
In answer to Erudisia’s suggestion, Little One looks both ways, but as this is a stall in a marketplace of tents, there is no entrance per se. A path leads between this stall and the one opposite toward the bustling center of The Wide, lined on both sides by innumerable stalls. He takes a position to the left of the stall, opposite the edge of the Wide where The Watch guardsmen remain perhaps a dozen yards away though many people stand between you and them.
The stall itself is a wide table under a tent, which stretches the full width of the tent, perhaps 15’. Behind the table, the woman called Avani stands. Behind her, inaccessible to the public, is the turned-up chest of expensively bound books. Spread and stacked upon the 15’-wide front table are many dozens of less expensive books, the 25gp each ones, which customers have been browsing.
“I can help you,” the newcomer says, when Erudisia asks about the rare books. But does Erudisia hop over the table and push Avani out of the way to get closer to the chest? She cannot reach it otherwise.
As Erudisia repeats Bell’s argument, adding her own touches, the store manager listens, one brow cocked in appraisal. To Erudisia’s veiled threats, her eyes narrow and her lips curl in a frown. Customers who due to their browsing had missed the earlier note of heightened tension can no longer miss it. They put down the books and retreat, ducking under Little One’s akimbo-held elbows, or “‘Scuze me,”-ing past Meredith and Bell.
To Erudisia’s question regarding a catalog, the manager, Korvala, replies in an undertone, with forced calm.
“I think, Milady -- and scholars of Candlekeep,” she adds, wryly – it is hard to tell if there is a note of sarcasm in her voice or not – “that this is not the place to discuss your quest. As you see, you have frightened my customers. This is a place of business, for the citizens of Baldur’s Gate and its visitors. Not a place for… disagreements. One shout from me, and The Watch, there, will be escorting you forcefully out of The Wide.”
She holds the gaze of her two shopkeepers, seeming to steady them, as she continues, her voice now pitched to reach all nearby with her previous, confident tone. “My office is not far from here. I suggest we continue our negotiations there. The best of my collection of rarities is held there, safe against bad weather and theft."
Bell's head is spinning. 'Is everything okay? Did we do something wrong? Is this 'quest' doomed to failure because 4 wet behind the ears 'Scholars' are fumbling through... to the detriment of all? How tall IS that woman? Can I afford any of their books? Which books would I even want?'
She gives a huge sigh as she falls into step behind Erudisia reaching out her hand to grasp Meredith's hand... as much to keep pace together as give support.
Bell whispers, "We can do this. We will be fine," to Meredith (as much as verbally convincing herself...)
(Ah, looking at the picture again, I’d wrongly been thinking this was all inside a marquee and there was a much larger collection of books. Erudisia does not jump the table.
Also, do we want to follow this woman to a second location? If she is what she appears to be then fine, and we may get the lead on where she got her books from and how to find them. However, if it’s a trap, we might be in trouble … we could ask her to come to the inn with us? There’s four of us and one of her, do we trust her and ourselves enough?
If we do go with her, Erudisia can Namedrop her noble friend to the watch, or give another silver to a newspaper seller or whatever passes for a street-kid in the Upper City to let her noble friend know where we’re going as some insurance.
The whole thing smells just ever so slightly fishy. I will say, in her office, I could get away with a Charm Person probably.)
Bell pulls on Meredith's arm and drags her up with Erudisia.
Speaking softly, Bell tries to keep everyone calm and 'on track'. "We are strangers to the city and ... apparently, academics; not skilled hagglers. If Korvala can give us even one shred of information, it will be more than what we have right now. Let's see how this goes and if it is nothing; we purchase some books for Candlekeep and walk away to plan our next moves."
Erudisia nods in agreement. She asks a watchman to deliver a small message to Alana Silvershield appraising her of their movements, should the worst happen.
As you huddle, Korvala likewise huddles with the two shopkeepers.
Your huddle breaks, and so does theirs. The Watch, Erudisia recalls from her prior time in Baldur's Gate, would refuse to carry a letter. (OOC: however, there may be opportunity for 'give another silver to a newspaper seller or whatever passes for a street-kid in the Upper City to let her noble friend know where we’re going as some insurance.')
Wary expressions worn by all, Korvala, chin high, leads you at a moderate pace with confident step, through a corner of The Wide, and then northwest, past a pair of walled mansions. Just after Korvala turns between two adjacent manors down a sunny street, Erudisia spots an old valet’s assistant wearing the Silvershield arms – whom she recognizes from her time at the Silvershield estate that winter – rushing in the opposite direction, toward The Wide, holding several empty sacks.
We’ll say that, falling behind the group, Erudisia hails him and hands him her note.
“Yes, Milady, as soon as I have finished my errands, I will deliver it. I shan’t be long!,” comes the man’s reply, his voice taut and reedy with age. “The young Lady Silvershield has asked often if you would return to Baldur’s Gate. She will be glad, I dare say!”
Erudisia catches up with the others. Korvala leads you down an alley formed by thin cypress trees pointing upwards like long rows of devout sun-worshippers. In the distance to the left, you mark the upper stories of a huge structure – the famed High House of Wonders – and then, the northern city wall looms ahead of you and a block of stone, each face 60’ tall and wide, with a gated entry plunging through its depths, now stands before you, kin to the Basilisk Gate through which you entered Baldur’s Gate. Tall engraved letters name this entry as the Black Gate.
With a nod to The Watchmen who stand guard here, Korvala leads you through and into the northern extension of the city beyond the high walls.
“This neighborhood is Blackgate,” she explains. “My office is not far.” To any looks of concern at the distance from The Wide you might brandish, she answers, “We are humble booksellers. An office within the Upper City is far beyond our ability to afford.” You have been walking perhaps fifteen minutes.
The contrast between the character and feeling of Blackgate and that of the Upper City is profound. A sprawl of settlements stretch beyond the city’s walls and crowd close around you. Small front yards hold chickens idly pecking the ground, dogs bark at you and test your resolve as you pass, and the stench of stabled horses and other beasts of burden in need of a change of hay bedding permeates the air along with the sharp odors of human waste. Indeed, a chamber pot is emptied directly into the street as you pass, and after that you keep close to one side as you walk. The buildings are two stories or three, and sag forward over the street which quickly narrows, making of direct sunlight a mere memory. Korvala looks back over her shoulder from time to time, her expression hard to read. Several turns through alleys whose direction and form are the very definition of happenstance, and she stops at a narrow door.
“We are here,” she says. As she knocks on the door and exchanges whispers with someone inside, you assess your surroundings. The door is the only entrance from the street to a small house with a pitched roof stuck between a tenement with a small courtyard where an old lady sits in a chair in front hacking and coughing, and on the other side, what was a tattoo parlor, although its windows are boarded over while its faded and warped sign hangs loosely from one chain, the other long since rusted through.
The door to the small house is too narrow for Little One to squeeze through. He frowns deeply and shakes his head. “I no can go in. This bad idea,” he whispers, his eyes sliding left and right where many rats slink quickly along the edges of alleys, even in broad daylight.
The door opens. "Please come in," Korvala says, and walks through. You have a gut feeling, all of you, that while this may not be what you expected, it is not a trap. At least, not yet.
Erudisia hesitates. Gnawing her lip. The moment, the opportunity, crystallises. Her heart beats a rapid tattoo in her chest.
As Korvala walks through the door, her back turned, Erudisia takes her crystal chess piece amulet out from beneath her neckline, and speaks her thanks, offering, she will say if asked, a Moonshae prayer of hospitality on entering.
‘Mhar Cspoen Mhar,’ she intones, and casts Charm Person with a bowed head on Korvala, as subtly as she can. (Wis save: 13)
[I’m sorry every one. This is too sketchy, isn’t it? Wish us luck, I hope this doesn’t ruin everything, but I’d rather have this go wrong if it must with Little One with us than inside a small building with no range and without him!]
Meredith was a little TOO distracted by Bell laying hands on her and stumbled along behind in a semi daze, she only clocked what Erudisia was doing after she had started and wisely kept her mouth tightly shut as things suddenly took a very serious turn.....still, Bells nails pressing into her skin kept demanding her focus.
She steadied herself for the worst as the dweomer took effect......
Erudisia’s charm silently slips into Korvala’s mind like an invisible dustmote inhaled with fresh air, and it implants feelings and blacks out memories while blinding the awareness of the absence of those same memories. And once this background illusion sets in her mind – it takes but a heartbeat – the greater part of the charm explodes softly, a sparkling plaything that pulls the bookstore manager’s attention to it the moment her mind starts to question her connection to the Moonshae Lady, and which displays only thoughts of kind intimacy and friendship whenever Korvala thinks of or sees Erudisia.
The tall, bronzed woman turns to glance over her shoulder, exchanging a knowing smile with Erudisia. “This way. It’s… odd you haven’t seen it yet, my dearest.” She glances warily at Meredith and Bell, but when her gaze returns briefly to Erudisia, she smiles warmly and continues.
There are two persons in the room you enter from the street, both brown-complexioned, both Amnians you would guess: a tall man in his 30s with wavy dark brown hair carefully parted on one side and combed across his head, spectacles on his nose, a collared shirt under an old wool coat, black, as are his trousers; and a petite, younger woman, perhaps 18 or 19, with wide eyes and long braids falling over her shoulders and tied with inexpensive ribbon.
The room holds a small wood-burning oven with a kettle upon it, and a table, with bowls of soup and sliced bread. The pair have stood up, their meal interrupted, and regard you with curiosity, and with… something else hard to place. The only decoration is an old hanging tapestry, deeply faded, depicting a woman in its center whose eyes flash with holy light, and… it is hard to tell… a lion standing with her. Or perhaps she has a lion’s body? Dogs, or… wolves?... gather in the background, palm trees around the edges.
“Inbar, Marliza?,” Korvala says, “please join us.” The pair exchange a glance, then follow you.
You leave the room, and enter a short hallway with a closed door mid-way along its length, a single window opposite it, boards nailed over the window, and then reach another door at the end of the hallway which Korvala opens and passes through.
[Erudisia’s charm silently slips into Korvala’s mind like an invisible dustmote inhaled with fresh air, and it implants feelings and blacks out memories while blinding the awareness of the absence of those same memories. And once this background illusion sets in her mind – it takes but a heartbeat – the greater part of the charm explodes softly, a sparkling plaything that pulls the bookstore manager’s attention to it the moment her mind starts to question her connection]
(I just wanted to say, this is beautiful writing. What vivid and incredibly evocative imaging of the magic. I love it.)
Erudisia follows the three into Korvala’s office. It is a cruel and risky thing which she has done, but she must concentrate, play down any over-familiarity as familial fame and perhaps some awe, where the other Amnians may come to wonder, and get the answers which they need as quickly as they might. Besides … it is not her first time using this magic, and seeing its side effects.
When they enter the office, Erudisia will look around.
If it is cramped, she will remark on it being cosy for six to sit, if there are not six seats. If there is no refreshments she will ask for tea, and something also for Little One outside, if they would be so kind. If there is any polite way to request that the one or both new faces leave the room to complete their meal with such requests or similar ideas, she will take the opportunity.
Then, after making introductions for Bell and Meredith as dear friends, whose insights and interjections are to be trusted and welcomed, she will ask again after the books as she did in the market.
Bell feels Meredith tense up, "shhhh.... slow breaths.Erudisia has this in hand. Let her play this out. Stay vigilant but relax... you are going to spook the spooky people."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Meredith nods slowly to Bell and distracts herself from both the environment and Bells nearness by trying to read the room......not the people....the room...
The tapestry.....a lion? Amnian......perhaps jackals? She cast her mind back to her feline research......Calimshan had been her focus but she had dipped into other countries biomes, native species and folklore.
The woman quirks a brow. "Make our own? Do you see the word 'scribe' in our name? Or, 'bookstore'? We sell 'em, we don't write 'em. The copier? That is a question for our manager. I know it was sold precisely because it was one of our valuable books." She gestures to the chest behind her, which, turned on its side, shows the very fine bindings of perhaps two dozen books. "We sell them for 250gp each, so yes, I remember specifics."
As she speaks, a clocktower on the far side of The Wide starts tolling the hour. The sun is high and the time is 12 o'clock noon.
At this last, the woman's brow crinkles almost imperceptibly, and she and the salesman exchange a very quick glance which you almost miss. Erudisia senses that the woman smells something fishy. (OOC: now the saleswoman critted her Insight roll!). Her expression and tone are almost unnervingly flat and unwavering when she says, looking Erudisia calmly in the eye, "There are rare books for sale. Perhaps such as we've got may not interest your patron, or perhaps they would. But only the manager makes those kinds of sales."
“Yes,” comes a voice from behind you. Just as you remove your eyes from the booksellers and turn your gaze to see the owner of this new voice, you catch, in your periphery, what looks like the slightest look of relief in the booksellers’ faces.
“Yes, thank you, Avani,” the voice continues, and you see it belongs to another Amnian woman, perhaps in her early 30s, wearing a midnight blue hijab over a chiton and himation pair in matching blues. Her voice is low and firm, and carries an edge of authority such that you may have half-expected to see a member of the Flaming Fist standing in full armor rather than an attractive, tall and poised woman. For tall she is, just over six feet, you might guess, a full head taller than Erudisia. She now addresses you four.
“I am manager of Amberdune. How may I help you?”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Meredith is stunned into silence by Erudisias skills and deeply shamed by those on display from the merchants........I was very bad at sales......good at customer service but absolute rubbish at sales.......I wonder if that's why he sent me north.......
She turned at the sound of the managers voice and taking in the woman's impressive wardrobe and demeanour stammered, " Good, uh, Business, Auntie...Sayyida....Al-Hurra..."
Inside Thoughts-
Mommy...
Erudisia’s eyes linger on the rare books, then turn to see where the three booksellers stand in relation to each other and her friends. She steps back from the Amnians, putting ten feet between them if she can without making it unduly overt.
”Little One,” she asks, “might you be so kind as to stand at the entrance of the shop, to avoid unwanted eyes and ears.” She grimaces apologetically at the newest woman. “Rumours fly so easily, and this is a sensitive matter — Avani, are the rarer books also for perusal?”
Erudisia heads towards the chest before an affirmation is given to read the spines, but will not touch them without approval.
As she does so she repeats what Bell has said previously. She advises on the purpose of the Scholar’s Shield, the attacks, and what their informants have told them, and the risk of further attacks. She doesn’t have to spell out the consequences for the seller of such poisoned chalices, but she is a true academic and so she does so anyway, including it in her discussion and the logical conclusion for any accomplice that might follow continuing events, despite its obviousness.
“Oh,” she says, finally, “I did not lie about my Patron, the Arch-Duke of Air, a potent Djinni prince of the elemental planes and his bookish interests. Do you have an order catalogue; are you amenable to courier delivery?”
In answer to Erudisia’s suggestion, Little One looks both ways, but as this is a stall in a marketplace of tents, there is no entrance per se. A path leads between this stall and the one opposite toward the bustling center of The Wide, lined on both sides by innumerable stalls. He takes a position to the left of the stall, opposite the edge of the Wide where The Watch guardsmen remain perhaps a dozen yards away though many people stand between you and them.
The stall itself is a wide table under a tent, which stretches the full width of the tent, perhaps 15’. Behind the table, the woman called Avani stands. Behind her, inaccessible to the public, is the turned-up chest of expensively bound books. Spread and stacked upon the 15’-wide front table are many dozens of less expensive books, the 25gp each ones, which customers have been browsing.
“I can help you,” the newcomer says, when Erudisia asks about the rare books. But does Erudisia hop over the table and push Avani out of the way to get closer to the chest? She cannot reach it otherwise.
As Erudisia repeats Bell’s argument, adding her own touches, the store manager listens, one brow cocked in appraisal. To Erudisia’s veiled threats, her eyes narrow and her lips curl in a frown. Customers who due to their browsing had missed the earlier note of heightened tension can no longer miss it. They put down the books and retreat, ducking under Little One’s akimbo-held elbows, or “‘Scuze me,”-ing past Meredith and Bell.
To Erudisia’s question regarding a catalog, the manager, Korvala, replies in an undertone, with forced calm.
“I think, Milady -- and scholars of Candlekeep,” she adds, wryly – it is hard to tell if there is a note of sarcasm in her voice or not – “that this is not the place to discuss your quest. As you see, you have frightened my customers. This is a place of business, for the citizens of Baldur’s Gate and its visitors. Not a place for… disagreements. One shout from me, and The Watch, there, will be escorting you forcefully out of The Wide.”
She holds the gaze of her two shopkeepers, seeming to steady them, as she continues, her voice now pitched to reach all nearby with her previous, confident tone. “My office is not far from here. I suggest we continue our negotiations there. The best of my collection of rarities is held there, safe against bad weather and theft."
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Meredith stepped back next to Bell chastened and quiet at her dismissal. Ready to follow.
Bell's head is spinning. 'Is everything okay? Did we do something wrong? Is this 'quest' doomed to failure because 4 wet behind the ears 'Scholars' are fumbling through... to the detriment of all? How tall IS that woman? Can I afford any of their books? Which books would I even want?'
She gives a huge sigh as she falls into step behind Erudisia reaching out her hand to grasp Meredith's hand... as much to keep pace together as give support.
Bell whispers, "We can do this. We will be fine," to Meredith (as much as verbally convincing herself...)
(Ah, looking at the picture again, I’d wrongly been thinking this was all inside a marquee and there was a much larger collection of books. Erudisia does not jump the table.
Also, do we want to follow this woman to a second location? If she is what she appears to be then fine, and we may get the lead on where she got her books from and how to find them. However, if it’s a trap, we might be in trouble … we could ask her to come to the inn with us? There’s four of us and one of her, do we trust her and ourselves enough?
If we do go with her, Erudisia can Namedrop her noble friend to the watch, or give another silver to a newspaper seller or whatever passes for a street-kid in the Upper City to let her noble friend know where we’re going as some insurance.
The whole thing smells just ever so slightly fishy. I will say, in her office, I could get away with a Charm Person probably.)
Bell pulls on Meredith's arm and drags her up with Erudisia.
Speaking softly, Bell tries to keep everyone calm and 'on track'. "We are strangers to the city and ... apparently, academics; not skilled hagglers. If Korvala can give us even one shred of information, it will be more than what we have right now. Let's see how this goes and if it is nothing; we purchase some books for Candlekeep and walk away to plan our next moves."
Erudisia nods in agreement. She asks a watchman to deliver a small message to Alana Silvershield appraising her of their movements, should the worst happen.
As you huddle, Korvala likewise huddles with the two shopkeepers.
Your huddle breaks, and so does theirs. The Watch, Erudisia recalls from her prior time in Baldur's Gate, would refuse to carry a letter. (OOC: however, there may be opportunity for 'give another silver to a newspaper seller or whatever passes for a street-kid in the Upper City to let her noble friend know where we’re going as some insurance.')
Wary expressions worn by all, Korvala, chin high, leads you at a moderate pace with confident step, through a corner of The Wide, and then northwest, past a pair of walled mansions. Just after Korvala turns between two adjacent manors down a sunny street, Erudisia spots an old valet’s assistant wearing the Silvershield arms – whom she recognizes from her time at the Silvershield estate that winter – rushing in the opposite direction, toward The Wide, holding several empty sacks.
We’ll say that, falling behind the group, Erudisia hails him and hands him her note.
“Yes, Milady, as soon as I have finished my errands, I will deliver it. I shan’t be long!,” comes the man’s reply, his voice taut and reedy with age. “The young Lady Silvershield has asked often if you would return to Baldur’s Gate. She will be glad, I dare say!”
Erudisia catches up with the others. Korvala leads you down an alley formed by thin cypress trees pointing upwards like long rows of devout sun-worshippers. In the distance to the left, you mark the upper stories of a huge structure – the famed High House of Wonders – and then, the northern city wall looms ahead of you and a block of stone, each face 60’ tall and wide, with a gated entry plunging through its depths, now stands before you, kin to the Basilisk Gate through which you entered Baldur’s Gate. Tall engraved letters name this entry as the Black Gate.
With a nod to The Watchmen who stand guard here, Korvala leads you through and into the northern extension of the city beyond the high walls.
“This neighborhood is Blackgate,” she explains. “My office is not far.” To any looks of concern at the distance from The Wide you might brandish, she answers, “We are humble booksellers. An office within the Upper City is far beyond our ability to afford.” You have been walking perhaps fifteen minutes.
The contrast between the character and feeling of Blackgate and that of the Upper City is profound. A sprawl of settlements stretch beyond the city’s walls and crowd close around you. Small front yards hold chickens idly pecking the ground, dogs bark at you and test your resolve as you pass, and the stench of stabled horses and other beasts of burden in need of a change of hay bedding permeates the air along with the sharp odors of human waste. Indeed, a chamber pot is emptied directly into the street as you pass, and after that you keep close to one side as you walk. The buildings are two stories or three, and sag forward over the street which quickly narrows, making of direct sunlight a mere memory. Korvala looks back over her shoulder from time to time, her expression hard to read. Several turns through alleys whose direction and form are the very definition of happenstance, and she stops at a narrow door.
“We are here,” she says. As she knocks on the door and exchanges whispers with someone inside, you assess your surroundings. The door is the only entrance from the street to a small house with a pitched roof stuck between a tenement with a small courtyard where an old lady sits in a chair in front hacking and coughing, and on the other side, what was a tattoo parlor, although its windows are boarded over while its faded and warped sign hangs loosely from one chain, the other long since rusted through.
The door to the small house is too narrow for Little One to squeeze through. He frowns deeply and shakes his head. “I no can go in. This bad idea,” he whispers, his eyes sliding left and right where many rats slink quickly along the edges of alleys, even in broad daylight.
The door opens. "Please come in," Korvala says, and walks through. You have a gut feeling, all of you, that while this may not be what you expected, it is not a trap. At least, not yet.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Erudisia hesitates. Gnawing her lip. The moment, the opportunity, crystallises. Her heart beats a rapid tattoo in her chest.
As Korvala walks through the door, her back turned, Erudisia takes her crystal chess piece amulet out from beneath her neckline, and speaks her thanks, offering, she will say if asked, a Moonshae prayer of hospitality on entering.
‘Mhar Cspoen Mhar,’ she intones, and casts Charm Person with a bowed head on Korvala, as subtly as she can. (Wis save: 13)
[I’m sorry every one. This is too sketchy, isn’t it? Wish us luck, I hope this doesn’t ruin everything, but I’d rather have this go wrong if it must with Little One with us than inside a small building with no range and without him!]
(Korvala WIS save vs. Charm Person: 3)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Meredith was a little TOO distracted by Bell laying hands on her and stumbled along behind in a semi daze, she only clocked what Erudisia was doing after she had started and wisely kept her mouth tightly shut as things suddenly took a very serious turn.....still, Bells nails pressing into her skin kept demanding her focus.
She steadied herself for the worst as the dweomer took effect......
Erudisia’s charm silently slips into Korvala’s mind like an invisible dustmote inhaled with fresh air, and it implants feelings and blacks out memories while blinding the awareness of the absence of those same memories. And once this background illusion sets in her mind – it takes but a heartbeat – the greater part of the charm explodes softly, a sparkling plaything that pulls the bookstore manager’s attention to it the moment her mind starts to question her connection to the Moonshae Lady, and which displays only thoughts of kind intimacy and friendship whenever Korvala thinks of or sees Erudisia.
The tall, bronzed woman turns to glance over her shoulder, exchanging a knowing smile with Erudisia. “This way. It’s… odd you haven’t seen it yet, my dearest.” She glances warily at Meredith and Bell, but when her gaze returns briefly to Erudisia, she smiles warmly and continues.
There are two persons in the room you enter from the street, both brown-complexioned, both Amnians you would guess: a tall man in his 30s with wavy dark brown hair carefully parted on one side and combed across his head, spectacles on his nose, a collared shirt under an old wool coat, black, as are his trousers; and a petite, younger woman, perhaps 18 or 19, with wide eyes and long braids falling over her shoulders and tied with inexpensive ribbon.
The room holds a small wood-burning oven with a kettle upon it, and a table, with bowls of soup and sliced bread. The pair have stood up, their meal interrupted, and regard you with curiosity, and with… something else hard to place. The only decoration is an old hanging tapestry, deeply faded, depicting a woman in its center whose eyes flash with holy light, and… it is hard to tell… a lion standing with her. Or perhaps she has a lion’s body? Dogs, or… wolves?... gather in the background, palm trees around the edges.
“Inbar, Marliza?,” Korvala says, “please join us.” The pair exchange a glance, then follow you.
You leave the room, and enter a short hallway with a closed door mid-way along its length, a single window opposite it, boards nailed over the window, and then reach another door at the end of the hallway which Korvala opens and passes through.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
[Erudisia’s charm silently slips into Korvala’s mind like an invisible dustmote inhaled with fresh air, and it implants feelings and blacks out memories while blinding the awareness of the absence of those same memories. And once this background illusion sets in her mind – it takes but a heartbeat – the greater part of the charm explodes softly, a sparkling plaything that pulls the bookstore manager’s attention to it the moment her mind starts to question her connection]
(I just wanted to say, this is beautiful writing. What vivid and incredibly evocative imaging of the magic. I love it.)
Erudisia follows the three into Korvala’s office. It is a cruel and risky thing which she has done, but she must concentrate, play down any over-familiarity as familial fame and perhaps some awe, where the other Amnians may come to wonder, and get the answers which they need as quickly as they might. Besides … it is not her first time using this magic, and seeing its side effects.
When they enter the office, Erudisia will look around.
If it is cramped, she will remark on it being cosy for six to sit, if there are not six seats. If there is no refreshments she will ask for tea, and something also for Little One outside, if they would be so kind. If there is any polite way to request that the one or both new faces leave the room to complete their meal with such requests or similar ideas, she will take the opportunity.
Then, after making introductions for Bell and Meredith as dear friends, whose insights and interjections are to be trusted and welcomed, she will ask again after the books as she did in the market.
Meredith exchanges a glance with Bell but tries not to show how utterly terrified she is rapidly becoming.....
Bell feels Meredith tense up, "shhhh.... slow breaths. Erudisia has this in hand. Let her play this out. Stay vigilant but relax... you are going to spook the spooky people."
Meredith nods slowly to Bell and distracts herself from both the environment and Bells nearness by trying to read the room......not the people....the room...
The tapestry.....a lion? Amnian......perhaps jackals? She cast her mind back to her feline research......Calimshan had been her focus but she had dipped into other countries biomes, native species and folklore.
History- 10
Nature- 9
(Erudisia: please roll Deception vs two matching Insight rolls of 19.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Deception: Nat 20! (23)
(The winds are with us! Arrrr, me hearties!)