Cassian’s voice falters slightly as he speaks, the words barely cutting through the chill air. “I-it’s dangerous to try to control something you don’t understand. We s-should warn him about it while we're here.” He exhales shakily and pushes the gate open with a creak that seems unnaturally loud in the stillness. The sound sends a shiver up his spine, but he steels himself and steps through.The dirt path crunches under his boots as he reluctantly approaches the house with the others.

"Shall we just knock on the door?" Doc suggests

"Knock down the door? I can do that" And Chromir lifts up his greataxe ready to bash the door in. (unless anyone stops him, having genuinely misheard)

"NOOO not knock down, knock ON" Doc quickly steps in

Cassian takes the chance while Chromir is distracted by Doc to step in front of him and knock on the door quickly.

Navrine steps quietly up beside Cassian and Doc, ready for anything that might happen, but also to try and prevent axes from destroying someone's property. “Lets try a subtle approach first ok?” Navrine whispers, instinctively surveying her surroundings looking for possible ambush points, and routes of escape or evasion in case the worst happened. The trinkets and symbols have her paranoid at this point.

After discussing the many and varied qualities of gaining access ... the heroes’ knock echoed against the backdrop of the stillness of the fens.

After a moment, the sound of shuffling footsteps could be heard from within.

The door creaked open, revealing a towering orc clad in a perfectly tailored waistcoat, his demeanor the very epitome of refinement. His greenish-gray skin contrasted sharply with the crisp white of his ruffled shirt, and his tusks gleamed, polished to a fine shine. Around his neck, the heroes noticed a curious silver chain that seemed almost alive, glinting in the faint light like captured moonbeams.

The orc bowed deeply, his movements deliberate and controlled.

"Good day to you, esteemed travelers," The orc intoned in a deep, resonant voice. "I am Orsk, manservant to Master Malrik. Might I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?"

Cassian blinks, momentarily taken aback by the impressive sight of the towering orc dressed with such precision and poise. The contrast between Orsk’s refined demeanor and the foreboding nature of the estate catches him off guard, and it takes a few seconds for him to gather his thoughts.

“Ah…g-good day, Orsk,” Cassian begins, his voice hesitant but polite. “We’re here to speak with your master. We’ve b-brought something we thought might interest him. An old spellbook we f-found in the ruins of a wizard's tower.”

After Cassian announced the purpose of the visit, a voice rang out from deeper within the house. "Orsk! Who dares disturb my studious designs at such a pivotal juncture of arcane exploration?"

"Adventurers, Master."  Orsk called back, stepping aside to let the heroes into the dimly lit entryway.

Malrik swept into view with a flourish, his gaunt frame draped in an oversized robe that seemed to swallow him whole. His dark, disheveled hair and piercing blue eyes gave him the air of a man perpetually lost in thought.  He held a small brass orb in one hand, its surface covered in arcane symbols, which he quickly stowed in the folds of his robe.

“Ah!  Yes.  Enter! You are most welcome here, my burgeoning compatriots."  Malrik gestured dramatically, leading the group into a sprawling sitting room that looked less like a living space and more like a cluttered museum of the bizarre. The walls were lined with masks from a dozen different cultures, their painted visages gawking down into the room with an eerie intensity. Odd sculptures rested on pedestals in alcoves, their forms twisting in ways that defied logic.  A small shrine in one corner emitted thin trails of incense smoke, the air thick with the heady scent of sandalwood and something else, something faintly metallic.

Malrik turned to them with a sharp smile, gesturing to a threadbare divan and mismatched chairs arranged around a low table cluttered with scrolls, quills, and half-melted candles.

"Please, do make yourselves comfortable whilst we parley on the matter of this illustrious tome you wish to part with."

Doc wonders how Malrik knows about the tome, when Orsk didn't mention it, but he doesn't want to insult their host so he keeps quiet and takes a seat.

"We found this tome when we were asked to take care of some misformed rats in the basement of the brewer. Asking around we were told that you might be interested in acquiring it."

Navrine sits down and takes in the strange collection. “My what an eclectic collection” She says, “You must be very interested in matters of arcane nature.” surveying her surroundings again looking for hidden dangers.

Cassian follows the group into the strange sitting room, his mismatched eyes darting around at the peculiar artifacts and masks that seem to watch his every move. The twisting sculptures and the faintly metallic scent only heighten his unease, though he can’t deny a growing sense of curiosity about their host’s collection. He carefully lowers himself into a chair.

“I’m Cassian Ashward,” he begins, his voice steady but cautious. He glances at Malrik, the man's smile making him shift slightly in his seat. “I don’t know how you already knew about the b-book, but it is as my friend said.”

He clears his throat, summoning his courage. “T-there’s also another matter I wanted to m-mention.” His voice is softer now, tinged with equal parts concern and nervousness. “It’s about the s-sigils on the trees outside your estate.”

He straightens in his seat, his brow furrowing slightly. “S-some of them...are j-just a tiny bit off. I don’t mean any offense,” he adds quickly, his tone earnest. “I only bring it up because even small errors in magic like that can be dangerous. As a paladin, it’s my duty to keep people safe, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t say something.”

Cassian leans back slightly, his grip on the armrest tightening as he waits for Malrik’s reaction. “If they’re i-intentional, then…well, that’s beyond my understanding. But if not, I thought it b-best to point them out.” He casts a quick glance at his companions, silently hoping he hasn’t overstepped.

Chromir will remain in the doorway, with Orsk, letting the others handle the business while he makes sure that if needed, an escape remains open.

Cassian, Doc, & Navrine

Leaving Orsk and Chromir behind, the trio settled into the drawing room and Malrik drew the ornate doors closed.  When the group questioned how it was that Malrik could know the purpose of their visit, he withdrew the arcane brass sphere he had been holding earlier.  He waved a hand theatrically over its surface and muttered some unintelligible words over it.  It began to glow!

"Ah, yes! I see it now just as clearly as I did a few days ago." He intoned, as if scrying over a crystal ball  "A tome of arcane significance, yearning for a new proprietor.  It was with this bauble, that I have foreseen this very moment."

Malrik paused just then, allowing the silence to grow between them until it became an awkward thing.  Before too long, he broke out into a grin. 

"Aha! The jig, as they say, is up!"  He chuckled, placing the brass orb on a cluttered shelf.  As soon as he set it down, it stopped glowing.

"It was your esteemed acquaintance Klem — who is far less secretive than you might have hoped — that gave me a prodigious hint in this regard. Just as he suggested to you that I would be interested in purchasing the book ... he suggested to me that you might be stopping by with just that goal in mind." 

"You will pardon the theatrics, I hope? Purely for my own amusement, I assure you."

"Now, let us examine this spellbook of yours."

Chromir

Back in the foyer, Chromir waited with Orsk after the orc closed the exterior door.  The orc's posture was straight and composed, hands clasped behind his back as he took a moment to study Chromir.  Orsk's polished demeanor contrasted sharply with the rugged goliath.  After a brief silence, the orc inclined his head and spoke in a deep, even tone.

"You are a warrior of some renown, I take it."  Orsk said, his eyes flicking briefly to the axe slung across Chromir’s back. "A man accustomed to braving the wilds, to surviving where others falter."

“Master Malrik always keeps an eye out for such individuals.  Adventurers, warriors, explorers.  He often finds use for their skills in ... retrieving certain curiosities.  A pursuit of knowledge for him, a source of coin for those brave enough to indulge his requests.”

With a closed door between them, the party is now separate.  Muffled conversations can still be heard on either side of the door, so each side knows that the other is more-or-less safe ... but the specifics of the ensuing conversation will not be common knowledge to the folks on the otherside of the door unless they actively listen at it.  The door is not that thick (or sturdy), a loud shout would be enough to call the others (and a well-placed boot would be enough to take it from its hinges).

Quote from EmileTherese >>

“T-there’s also another matter I wanted to m-mention.” ... "t’s about the s-sigils on the trees outside your estate.” ... “S-some of them...are j-just a tiny bit off. I don’t mean any offense,”

Malrik tilted his head, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Ah, an astute observation."

"There exists a minority opinion among arcane scholars that intentional, shall we say, idiosyncrasies in warding inscriptions can serve to enhance their true function. A subtle misdirection — a camouflage if you will — to confuse the spirits."

Apologies.  Forgot to respond to this part in Malrik's response.

Doc is fine with Malrik's explanation and takes out the book.

"Here, this is what we found"

"Hm, 'confuse the s-spirits'." Cassian murmurs thoughtfully, wondering how effective the technique is. If it works, maybe...He gives a small shake of his head as he refocuses on the task at hand.

Quote from ScienceVersusAdventure>>

Back in the foyer, Chromir waited with Orsk after the orc closed the exterior door.  The orc's posture was straight and composed, hands clasped behind his back as he took a moment to study Chromir.  Orsk's polished demeanor contrasted sharply with the rugged goliath.  After a brief silence, the orc inclined his head and spoke in a deep, even tone.

"You are a warrior of some renown, I take it."  Orsk said, his eyes flicking briefly to the axe slung across Chromir’s back. "A man accustomed to braving the wilds, to surviving where others falter."

“Master Malrik always keeps an eye out for such individuals.  Adventurers, warriors, explorers.  He often finds use for their skills in ... retrieving certain curiosities.  A pursuit of knowledge for him, a source of coin for those brave enough to indulge his requests.”

"That I am, I much prefer the wilds and fighting than the refinery you have on. And I certainly have the bravery that Malrik wants, and coin is always nice."

Cassian, Doc, and Navrine

In the drawing room, Malrik’s fingers danced over the spellbook’s worn cover.  He opened it delicately, flipping through its arcane pages with the care of a collector appraising a rare treasure. At last, he closed the tome with a definitive gesture and offered the group a sharp smile.

"A marvelous find!"  He declared. "I shall offer you 600 gold coins for its purchase. A fair sum, I trust."

After a pause, he leaned forward conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a tone rich with intrigue.

"If you should you find yourselves inclined toward further opportunity ... I do have a proposition."

"There is a contact of mine — a shaman of the lizardfolk tribes known as Stone Feather — who resides deep within the Great Moor.  He possesses an item of considerable interest to me, but alas, my current obligations prevent me from fetching it myself."

"Should you agree to venture forth on my behalf in an effort to retrieve this item ... I would compensate you handsomely."

Chromir

Meanwhile, in the foyer, Orsk continued to engage Chromir in polite conversation. The orc’s polished demeanor contrasted sharply with his towering, muscular frame.

"So, you’re a lumberman now, hmm?  Hard work, good for the body."  Orsk remarked, nodding appreciatively, the silver chain upon his neck glittering like moonbeams again.

Navrine centers herself and remains passively neutral, measuring her reactions. She nods to her companions as to the price offered for the book. She then turns to her companions “Retrieving an Item doesn't seem that hard” She whispers, “If the person you're retrieving it from wants to part with it.” Addressing Malrik she says “This contact of yours is willing to part with this item correct, or is this to be a burglary?” She pauses looking for any cues coming from Malrik as to his trustworthiness.

(Insight roll: 8+2 for a 10)