"Wait... she was going to kill me?" Kanon asked, eyes wide. No... it's just Zina being Zina. Mara would never do something so evil as to actually attempt to kill him after spending so much time with him on the road. He saved her, he fought alongside her, he even talked her through some rough times. Instead, Kanon laughs. "Lets go!" he calls out to the others.

"I don't really like anybody, and people like me even less," Zina held on tightly to Mara. "But I trust you. At least, now I do." The gnome settled into the alliance, things a little bit easier between herself and the fighter.

Pettilaen only watched as the group shifted through their emotions. He was unphased by Mara's actions, and would've done the same, even if everyone else felt it to be better or more "moral" to let the kobold go. This was war, a fact that was quickly dawning on him, and in war, morals come second to victory. He made a mental note to procure some books on the art of warfare and strategy when they returned to Candlekeep.

He mounted Kanon's horse, ready to depart back to Candlekeep and share with everyone else what they'd found. He was also curious to hear of what progress had been made in regards to the soul gem he found. Maybe someone could even answer the ever-present question in his mind of what his shortsword was. He couldn't give it a name if he didn't know what it did, after all.

The ride back to Candlekeep is quiet and quick. Soon you find yourselves back within the secure walls of the massive, tiered stronghold full of knowledge and pretense. Among the guards inside the door, you see a handful of Hellriders waiting for... you, apparently.

"There you are," one of the Hellriders says as you enter. "We've been waiting to escort you to the inner sanctum immediately upon your arrival. Recent developments have caused quite a hubbub and you've been summoned to a conference with High Lord Dhelt of Elturel. With me, please."

He mounts his horse and leads you up the long series of steps and plateaus to the main keep where you hand off your horses at the gate and meet a surprisingly large entourage impatiently awaiting your arrival. They rush you into a long, narrow room of bright white alabaster with a decorative arched ceiling no less than 100' above you. You see decanters of a crimson-purple wine on the table and an assortment of breads and cheeses up and down the table. 

"Sit quickly," a steward instructs. "They will enter soon."

With urgency and gravity evident in his voice and, in some cases, eager to try the wine, the group finds their seats at the end of the table nearest the door. But no sooner are you seated and have a mouthful when...

"All rise for Magi Ulraunt, Keeper of the Tomes and Lord of the Candles." A booming voice echoes through the room, though the speaker is not seen. "This day we are honored as well by the presence of Mordenkainen, Wisest of Eight and Most Powerful of Orth, and by High Lord Dhelt of Elturel, Most Holy Servant of Torm."

3 figures enter from the central-most of 7 doors on the far side of the room. On the left is a tall, thin bald man in fine silks of black and red. On the right, an elder but well muscled figure in gilded plate armor with the Fist of Torm etched large on his breastplate. In the center, a bearded man in silver robes whose face can barely be seen through the intense light shining from his silver staff.

Kanon is caught up in the whirlwind of activity once they reach Candlekeep. He can hardly think properly as they're led into the luscious banquet hall. Right when he attempts to sample the food, he's told to rise again. Seeing these great men enter the hall fills him with pride. He's actually present in this historic moment! He stays quiet until addressed, eyes glued to the great presence before him.  

Pettilaen couldn't wipe the smile off of his face. He tried in vain to conceal his giddy attitude about getting to meet a king... No, being summoned and having a king wait on him. Everything around him seemed to dull in comparison to the thought of actually getting to meet the High Lord of Elturel, Delt himself. The thought of the king also being accompanied by whom he'd assume is the head-man at Candlekeep, as well as Mordenkainen only made himself more excited.

He cast prestidigitation on himself about a dozen more times, hoping that his presence and appearance would be fitting in such glory and power. Act cool and confident, act cool and confident. The mantra continually played throughout his head, the only thing keeping him from turning into a little boy on Frempleshtan [gnommish Christmas]. He quickly rose from his chair as the three figures entered the room, meticulously wiping down the front of his studded leather armor, to keep it clean and keep his hands dry from how nervous he was. Realizing he still couldn't see much, he climbed into his chair, making him seem at least two feet taller. Maybe this is how I'll get them to notice me.

Portia hadn't intervened in any of the commentary after putting the kobold down. The scrolls had gotten into Beregost another route that Malark knew of and he had been the one to hire Kanon to take them to Neiklot in the Gate. Somehow the enemy knew that they had been moved though they were sure trying hard to find anything worth it in Beregost before leaving nothing left but rubble. Worse, the scrolls were similar to Zina's book that probably wasn't hers rightfully. Then again it was probably better things got moved around because the enemy didn't have either ... yet.

At Candlekeep, the whirlwind of activity did not surprise her the way things had been going lately. She hadn't bothered to sit due to needing a break from sitting even if the Hellrider horse had one of the smoothest gaits. She put her attention to the other end of the hall when the three prestigious men entered. She wanted to know what they had learned, but then she wanted to go have a chat with Malark on exactly how he got those scrolls in the first place. The last time she had talked to him she had his well being and wanting details of the attack of Beregost on her mind. 

"Holy farji," the gnome's eyes grew to be the size of saucers as they announced that she, Zina Strifelaughter, daughter of a simpel blacksmith, would be in the presence of three of the most powerful people in all of the Sword Coast. She dipped into an awkward curtsy, as that seemed most appropriate. Be cool, she reminded herself. Is asking for their autograph considered cool?

When the 3 men were properly seated, the crowd filters in and fills the entire length of the table. That's when Portia notices that Malark and two other representatives from Song of the Morning are present in the crowd, but there's no time to say hello before the man in silver, sitting in an elevated chair at the head of the table, begins to speak.

"As you all know," he says, "Candlekeep has bent near-all of its resources toward this threat from the south. As well, we have been aided by powerful guests and allied nations as well."

He nods toward the  bald man in silk, then toward the man in plate armor.

"We are here today to discuss what we have learned and formulate our plan of action to stave this threat away from the southern Sword Coast and Candlekeep's doorstep. I have been told Mara Windrunner of the Beregost Watch is in our presence and has recently scouted Beregost. Mara, we would have you stand and address the conference as to your findings..."

The man in silver motions for Mara to be seated and she complies.

"We should like to examine the map fragment your carry as well as anything else you have retrieved from Beregost or any remaining clues or information you may find relevant. First Reader Tethtoril will see to that exchange once our conference is concluded."

He clears his throat.

"Now, as to discerning the reason for this attack, I understand the Song of the Morning Temple seemed to have been a primary target. Could a representative of that organization stand and address what occurred there?"

Dawnbringer Malark glances at Portia as he stands.

"Yes, Your Greatness," Malark replies. "Our reports indicate the hobgoblin force was seeking something in earnest. We can only assume they were looking for the same scrolls they still seek..."

"And do you have any information what scrolls they may be seeking?" The man in silver interrupts.

Malark glances at Kanon. "Our temple contained many scrolls of value, both magical and historical. Without knowing the ultimate purpose of this army we..."

Malark is silenced by the man in silver raising his hand into a "halt" gesture, then motioning for Malark to sit, which he does immediately.

"Very well..." The man in silver turns his head toward the bald man to his right. "The mighty Mordenkainen has been taking the lead on divining the army's origin and their ultimate purpose and we believe we have a good handle on both. Mordenkainen, if you will speak to that..."

Mordenkainen grins and leans back in his chair. In a tone that seems almost bored, he begins to speak.

"An elder red wyrm named Balagos commands this rabble. He's recently acquired a cache of documents belonging to the Red Wizards and is seeking their code-scrolls to crack their encryption. We believe that spies in his employ chased an envoy of the Red Wizards into Beregost, but he ditched his code-scrolls before they tracked him down. We think he may have hidden then in the Song of the Morning and that our good man Malark here stumbled upon them."

Mordenkainen casts an amused gaze to the end of the table, directly at your group.

"After failing at a cursory attempt at understanding the scrolls, and getting little help here at Candlekeep I might add, he sent them with a hapless group of couriers in the company of a dwarven smuggler named Orst to the Gate where they were delivered to our friend Nieklot, whom, I'm loathe to say, has since disappeared with them. I've spoken to his employer, a young upstart named MacDonald, the nephew of your wizard Elminster Aumar, and he does not seem to know where Neiklot might have gone - or why. The trail runs cold from there."

The man in silver nods.

"Very well. It is our feeling, and the Flaming Fist of Baldur's Gate concurs, that, in sacking Beregost, this Balagos creature has declared war on the entire Sword Coast. We intend to answer this declaration, and our allies in Eltugard and Cormyr have vowed to help. Lord Dhelt?"

The gentleman in gilded armor stands and salutes with a fist to his chest and a subtle bow.

"Though I cannot and do not speak for Cormyr," he begins, "Elturgard will answer this challenge side by side with the people of Beregost. With the Flaming Fist overwhelmed keeping order in Baldur's Gate, they have named me commander of this effort, though I am limited in the number of resources, both men and gold, that can be spared on Elturgard's part. We cannot tackle this task alone. Thankfully, we have a patron, the aforementioned dwarven smuggler Orst, who is abandoning his criminal enterprise and turning to the cause of good by financing the building of a new army and a stronghold to the south of Beregost - once we retake it. We will win this battle, though I warn it will take time. The people of Beregost will know justice."

When he finishes, Lord Dhelt sits, after which the man in silver stands and leans over the table.

"I am afraid I cannot share in High Lord Dhelt's certainty. If the involvement of one of the most powerful wyrms in all Faerun were not enough, we have reports that an old order of cultist-knights calling themselves the New Dawn have allied with him. And, while we may know what they're seeking, we don't know why... There is much to learn yet and Sword Cost will require service from you all to see this battle won. We ask that none of you venture from Candlekeep for the next several days. Each of your groups will be called to meet with Lord Tethtoril and asked to perform some service toward this cause according to your role and abilities."

With that, the Keeper of the Tomes raises his hand.

"I will leave you now. Mordenkainen and I have much work to do. You are welcome to remain."

He beckons to Mordenkainen, who shrugs, stands, and follows through the central door in the rear of the room.

Kanon immediately goes for the food once the whole epic event is finished, grabbing a handful of cheese and sticking it in his mouth. He chews, looking at each of you and nodding, before forcing the cheese down with a swallow. This whole thing was beyond him, he would have thought yesterday, but his presence here spoke differently. He never would have been allowed a spot at the table if his efforts haven't proven to those around him that he's more than a kid with a lute. He's honored that he's here... more, he humbled. But now he knows that his actions will have impact, and that his decisions mean something. After a moment he takes a glass of wine and washes the gross taste of cheese out of his mouth. 

Portia sees Malark look at her and then at Kanon while trying not to say anything to someone who probably knew it all. Yup, the rest of it sure proved that. She gives Malark one of them looks that demanded answers, but implied she probably already knew more than was stated in the room. She also knows her group would be doing a very particular thing, but was not sure what. After all, they wound up taking the dang scrolls to Neiklot, who so nicely skipped town with them it seems. She bet Malark had not thought of that happening and wondered how well he really knew Neiklot. Then there was the book! Thankfully that did not act like a beacon when they were in Beregost earlier!

She nibbles on some cheese finding none of this all that surprising and not even worried about what she would be thrown into thanks to her adoptive father, Malark. She picked out some choices of the food on the table and found a cheese she really liked. She smiles at Kanon finding a cheese he did not like and makes note not to try that one herself just in case.

As a portion of the crowd disperses, you see First Reader Tethtoril headed toward you. With a friendly smile and nod, he takes a vacated seat near the group.

"I hope none of that was intimidating for you. Important people like to make grand gestures." His smile broadens. "Be sure, Candlekeep will require nothing terribly dangerous of you. I would like to have a look at that map fragment and a bit of a discussion on what you know about Neiklot and the scrolls, though, if you're willing. We could discuss it over a nice lamb dinner in my study..."

"That would please us, First Reader." Kanon responds. "We've been travelling a lot lately," he licks his teeth as the cheese taste still remains, it seems. "But we're willing to share everything we know." Neiklot didn't seem the type to skip town. Most likely he found something and felt it was too dangerous to allow scrying. Any chance to get into the First Reader's good graces was an opportunity to the Bard. Perhaps they'd allow them to get into the upper candles... maybe even the white room. Whatever that was...

Pettilaen's listened intently as the three high powers proceeded to discuss and share the information they knew. Nieklot's gone? Pettilaen wondered what happened to the cryptographer as he looked to Zina worriedly. Thank heavens she has a copy of the scrolls.

And the Red Wizards were only stolen from? He had such a different thesis for their purpose in all of this.

And Orst is a criminal?! He always felt that the dwarf was a little sketchy, but didn't realize just how branded he actually was.

And now we're supposed to stay here for a few days? Pettilaen moaned within himself. He knew that he should definitely be studying books on current events, but he would so much rather be out in the world, exploring and finding treasure. He grasped the shortsword instinctively. Perhaps the time could be useful after all... He would have to ask Tethtoril about the blade when he had the chance. Who also happened to now be standing behind him, as Pettilaen thoughtfully contemplated everything which had been happening. Whirling around at the sound of his voice, he laughed nervously, quickly processing what Tethtoril had said. "Lamb dinner? Sounds great!" He fumbles around in his pocket, his hands shaking a little from the excitement and procures the map. handing it over, he requests, "Also, if you have time during dinner, there's a blade I was given which I've been trying to understand what it is and how it works. But all in good time!" He beams, hopping down from the chair. Dinner wouldn't be for a few hours, so he needed to find something to do.

Pettilaen's mind swarmed with ideas on what we could do. What about the soul crystal? I should probably talk to Orst. I hope my parents are okay! Maybe I can get in touch with them, like how Orst did back in the angel-lady's personal chambers. For now, the pressing matter seemed to be Orst. "I'm going to go talk with Orst." he mentioned casually to the rest of the group.

"I demand to speak with Mordenkainen and the Keeper of the Tomes," Zina announced loudly. The First Reader seemed alright, but she needed someone with actual power and knowledge, not a head librarian. "I have some important information on the scrolls, and I want to ensure I get it to the right people.

"You will take me to them immediately," she commanded the First Reader, hopping off of her chair and looking up at him expectantly. Perhaps if she finished talking to the important people early enough, she could still make it in time for that lamb dinner. A warm meal sounded lovely.