"Of course you have to stay. We have several things to do after helping Orst between the lot of us and better to do them as a group. We have at least three things to do after taking care of Orst." Portia smiles. 

"And I'm not letting you and those scrolls out of my sight until I figure it out!" Zina added. As much as she had wanted to hate and be suspicious of Kanon, he was a very likable person. It didn't hurt that he was the most well read person, other than herself, of course, and that she could actually have an intellectual conversation with him.

Kanon laughs, "But of course, young sage." He smiles and lays back as the cart continues down the road. As Zina begins her studying again he eventually picks up his lute and begins to strum a soft lil melody. He mumbles a few words, strings them together, and softly sings. 

Raised of spells and casting well, but always wanting better,
To sing of knights and days of yore, to leave the robes that fetter...
A wizard prone to song and prose, though oft accused of failing.
She sings despite the odds, but fails short of wailing. 

Baldur's Gate
Through the storm we see the light,
Of the city far away,
Long we've traveled and long we've fought,
Just to make it to the gate.

Young of soul but not of mind, he always hits his mark,
Quick of feet but not of flight, he fell and all went dark.
A rogue on one a wizard on next, and all but love for Gaia,
His eyes betray what his words do not, in the gate he is pariah.

Baldur's Gate
Through the storm we see the light,
Of the city far away,
Long we've traveled and long we've fought,
Just to make it to the gate.

Her eyes are bright with skin of white, her hair is curled just so,
A father's daughter and worshiper of light, she has a pious glow.
A Cleric in her mind and heart, she sits atop her steed,
Riding forward towards the gate, a mystery she is indeed.

Baldur's Gate
Through the storm we see the light,
Of the city far away,
Long we've traveled and long we've fought,
Just to make it to the gate.

Broad of shoulder and strong as a giant, this man atop his pony,
His axe is heavy when swung just so, as none will disagree.
A fighting dwarf through and through, his loyalty is earned in trust,
But one day we shall all bear witness... as eyes wonder - to the size - of that - massive - bust

He gives one last definitive strum of his lute with each final word. Afterwards he laughs, pleased with his little song.

"Why do you sing?" Zina asked abruptly. "Libraries aren't exactly places where noises are encouraged. And no offense, but you seem way to smart to be a Bard."

Kanon picks at his lute strings as he answers, "The lore. In every song there is a story. Every book started as spoken word. Before it was put to pages it was spoken in confidence. When those words pass from one ear to another it gets confused... cluttered... almost unrecognizable from the original." He strums his lute,  "When you add music to the words, people tend to remember every single word when the music is played. If there's something important to remember... something important to scribe into a tome, those that don't take the time to read it will be able to know it. From the music."  

He shrugs, "I feel it's important for me to share what I learn from reading. And the music helps others learn as well." He laughs, "My father is the leader of the College of the Herald in Baldur's Gate. My whole life has been tailored to the pursuit of preserving knowledge. If all books are gone... all that will be left are words and song."  

Portia smiles. "He has a good point. You need to keep what you learn in your head as well because you can't always trust to have the books. And you need a way to share information so people know of what has really happened in the world. We can learn a lot from making sure we know the truth of history and someday we might convince the world to stop repeating the same stupid mistakes."

"Kanon, the scrolls you got were from Malark to take to Neiklot, correct?"

((And that might be Neitlok instead as I find my brain frying to remember))

"Yes, Lady Portia. Malark and I were trading stories over a few cups of wine, and I guess I left a good impression on him. He knew I was heading to Baldur's Gate and gave me the pages to deliver to Neiklot. He mentioned they were Thay in origin, but other than that very little was gleaned from prior attempts to translate them." He looks over at Zina, "Far as I know, she's gotten further than anyone in or around Beregost has."  

Kanon smiles, "I spent a few days trying to translate them myself, but I couldn't figure out the cipher. One look and she recognized dozens of symbols."

"It was more like four looks," Zina preened at the praise. Portia had forced her to drink a great deal of water, and she was already feeling better. She still hadn't fixed her tunic, however. "Can I accompany you to Neiklot? I really, really want to see what he can discern."

"Of course!" Kanon laughed, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind looking at your tome as well. You just need to make sure you remind him that it is your tome, and that you expect it back. As for the scrolls... we may never see them again. They are Malarks..."

"I'm not showing him the book," Zina objected adamantly. "I don't trust him. I want to watch him work on the scrolls, so that I can learn and do the same for the book." The scholar had started copying the scrolls into her notebook so that she could continue to study them after she was forced to give them back.

"I trust him more than others if Malark is willing to send him things. But let's see what he can do with the scrolls and go from there." She smiles at Zina.

She turns her look to Kanon. "You did make an impression on Malark." Her smile changes a bit to make him wonder what she is really thinking.

She then gazes off towards where Baldur Gate is somewhere up ahead. "On a good note with the people we have in this group, we have plenty of contacts and no issues with places to stay. It might help us with the reason we wanted to come here in the first place. Baradwulf, the golden genasi pirate, is still at large with stuff that does not belong to him."

"Yeah," Zina replied to Portia with a shrug. "But I don't trust anyone."

Pettilaen listened haphazardly to Kanon and Zina's conversation as he stroked Gaia's feathers. He'd grown incredible fond of her, and her intelligence had given them a huge advantage [pun intended] during the battle with the alseids. His mind pondered a variety of topics, such as what the alseid meant when he said they had something evil in their possession. Surely a book couldn't be evil? It had no mind or will of its own. The thought troubled him, but he trusted the judgement of Kanon on the matter, and let the issue rest.

On mention of Baradwulf, his ears perked up. "On a good note with the people we have in this group, we have plenty of contacts and no issues with places to stay. It might help us with the reason we wanted to come here in the first place. Baradwulf, the golden genasi pirate, is still at large with stuff that does not belong to him."

Pettilaen jumped in as soon as he could, wanting to impress his friends, "I still have a lot of contacts in the underworld of the Gate. It shouldn't be too hard for me to reach out to them and see what their networks have on Baradwulf and his whereabouts. It would require me to exhaust some favors and perhaps owe some as well, but I think I should be able to help us track him down. It was a speciality of mine at one point, after all. And! Don't forget that we're going to the Gate to get paid for saving the little princeling!"

"So you're all hunting a pirate and collecting a reward for saving a prince?" Kanon definitely looks intrigued, "I need the the story."  

"We hunted a pirate and saved the prince he had hostage," Zina said. "It's not that hard to figure out."

"But did Portia and Bullden battle the pirate's minions while you created a grandiose illusion that trapped the genasi pirate into a bubble filled with molten lava while Pettilaen stealthily moved in to pick the lock of the poor princeling?" His eyes are wide as he asks this, honestly seeing the scene in his mind's eye play out.

Dang. That's a really good idea. Pettilaen chuckled at the thought, letting Gaia go around and look for a meal throughout the countryside. "Nope! It was even better."

He adjusts his position on the cart, getting into the prime spot for storytelling. Weaving a few illusions, he using the imagery to help narrate the story. "We'd just gotten back from slaying a whole host of goblins, with pockets lined to the brim in gold pieces. Hitting up the Sharptooth Tavern, we dazzled the crowd with our glory and prestige, buying drinks for everyone at the bar while we only took the finest alcohol they had available. The barmaid practically swooned when she saw me, but managed to keep herself from fainting and deliver the heart-wretching story of a pirate scum, with gold skin and flaming hair, who had kidnapped a poor boy and trapped him in the cellar. I called out the golden bastard, but he was quicker than I and ran out of the door and disappeared into the night. We could hear the child screaming, so we struck up a dance party, complete with an ensemble of bards... I myself was the most liked by the crowd, as the rest of my brave companions dared to travel into the depths of the cellar beneath the tavern and rescue the poor lad. Down below, we discovered what could've been mistaken for old ruins. Water dripped from unknown sources, perhaps from small portals from the Plane of Water itself! The child was trapped in a room, cornered by seven vicious hellhounds from the Abyss. We bravely charged in, slaying the foul demons and rescuing the poor lad. The Flaming Fist arrived as quickly as they could, and charged us with returning the lad to Beregost, awaiting the very king of Elturel to come! Alas, they were slain by giants taller than...." He stretches his arms out as high as they can, which is maybe three feet, "... ten times this amount! Hideous creatures. I snuck into their camp in the dead of night and liberated as much coin as I could carry."

He breathes in deeply, his heart racing rapidly. "Long story short, we made it back to Beregost, and after receiving fanfare only fit for a king, decided to travel back to the Gate and silence this evil pirate."

Kanon laughed at the story, and even though he knew it was improbable he gave Petti the benefit of the doubt, "That would have been an amazing journey to join you on!" He laughs, "We should tell that tale at the Blade and Stars when we get to Baldur's Gate."  

"Umm, no we will not tell the tale in a public place as entertainment. I rather not have Baradwulf hear it before we figure out where he is and what he did with the items he did manage to steal and not leave behind. Besides I might tell Regis that Brut should bite you for calling him a hellhound." Portia laughs.

Idle chatter and people watching fill most of the remaining 24 hours before arriving at the Gate. The last night on the road sees your group camping amongst dozens of other travelers from merchants to pilgrims to traveling entertainers. In swapping stories, you hear a few interesting developments from the area:

• Apparently your departure from Beregost was timely. The city has come under more and more pressure from monsters and brigands, mostly coming up from the south, but some from the east as well. The Sharptooth Tavern (where our story began) was raided, plundered, and burnt to the ground just 3 days ago. The city is still secure, but there's growing concern that Beregost itself could fall eventually.
• There's a good deal of drama brewing in Westgate, on the southern shore of the Dragonmere, as well. The Pirate Kings who rule the city are falling into turmoil and bordering on civil war. Many say it's the work of a powerful cult, sewing discord with the intent of eventually claiming Westgate for themselves.
• As you've heard already, the Flaming Fist are struggling to maintain control of the Gate. Crime syndicates and other opportunists have turned the city upside down. There's talk of bringing in a mercenary company from Neverwinter called Brotherhood of the Blade to help with security until order can be restored.
• Almost universally, travelers from all corners report strange sights and events on the road. Lots of merchants and their guards are bloody and many carts carry fresh bodies among their goods as well.