"I hope you are right, brother, as you always are." waiting for another moment to catch his brother's attention, he shares a bit more: "I might have seen him, brother. I might have seen what lies beneath the faceless void of our dark ancestor. It didn't feel like him, it felt like something closer to a lich, a thing of  bone and rot, evil eyes, tattered robes, and a tall gnarled staff. Maybe a saw Larloch, maybe it was another one of his liches, maybe it was Ruin given it was their token I had recently tapped into. I don't know... But there is a non-zero chance that these are all one in the same..." Thyrius looks distraught for a moment: "Brother, could the Faceless One be themselves a lich?"

Later, regarding reaching out to Selune directly, Thyrius lets out an unconvincing "I can try...."

(@Nathan: just making sure this post (#5821) wast not overlooked.)

(oops, thanks for checking, I missed that!)

Thyrius thinks back to the conversation with Ajani, and the question about the obelisks. Thyrius had only met Ajani once, for their journey here, but feels he got a good sense of him while he was with him. Thyrius had asked specifically about looking for another obelisk...but...Ajani's answer had been a broad response....and Thyrius has the distinct feeling that Ajani was referring to the whole tactic of seeking out obelisks.  Thinking on other potential answers, that's really the only intention that makes sense.  If that's the case, Mirica's suggestion that Ajani's response was about facing off with the Shadovar, or that it was warning them away from Ythyrn itself actually doesn't seem to be what the planeswalker was trying to say. 

At the eventual question and while the others were distracted at the larger ongoing discussion, Xemnez looked thoughtfully for a moment, before addressing his brother. "Even given the less hand's on approach the god's might have in the lands of our people, our... our ancestral spirits walk a dangerous line as-is thanks to Erebos domineering grasp on the realm of the dead. So, I cannot imagine even one as bold as the Faceless One treading upon such grounds as to even need to devour other souls like those liches, and thus directing the more pointed attention of the god to our people."

On that note, Xem leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. "No... if anything this void visage you saw had to be Larloch. Who by all accounts at this point has garnered a significant amount of power in his dabbling... Enough to, given that you were seeking Ajani at the time, to perhaps taken notice and interjected himself." Xemnez initially scowled at the admission, only to then smirk at a thought. "That is until Ajani interceded."

Xemnez's smirk fell away as he said in a more serious tone in [leonin] added, "But continue to exercise caution, brother. All bodes not well that the Faceless One has urged you to dabble in a like Soul Magic as the Liches. Even for the sake of our mission." With that piece said, and assuming Thyrius had no further concerns to voice, Xemnez let his attention again wander to the ongoing and greater discussion. Regarding which, Xemnez had not the will or mind to intrude upon further with his two cents, and seemed more content to listen and absorb as other options are put on the table. 

Thyrius nods at his brother: "You are right brother, and much wiser than others would give you credit for. I'll take your advice and avoid dabbing into such dangerous magics very often. I'm afraid that implies I should not try to reach out to Selune." He pauses for a second: "Unless you truly believe that is a path worth attempting right now. I could give the spell one more try this day but, should I fail, I'll be more hindrance than help in this ongoing conversation we are having with the group. Speaking of which..."

Thyrius turns to the others and clarifies: "I have had a moment to think about one of Ajani's words more carefully, and I am now certain he meant that the search for obelisks overall was a foolish endeavor.  Hence, I don't think the White Lion was trying to imply what Mirica initially understood. That is to say that Ajani's response was specifically about the obelisks. He did not necessarily tell us to desist pursuing the Shadovar nor warned us against going to Ythyrn. There may still be merit in returning to Ythryn and reclaiming that Mythallar from the Shadovar, though it sounds like we should follow the hag's advice and let the obelisk be."

That was not exactly the answer to her question but if others were against obelisk hunting so be it. "Then let me know what you decide and where shall we go." With the Mirica returned to holy water production - obelisks or not you can not have too much holy water.

Toc mutters, "Is there anyone we want to talk to in more detail about any of this? I can have an indepth conversation with the elves, the leaders of Cormyr, the librarians and Candlekeep...name it and I can try to make it happen."

Seeing no one respond to Toc's offer, Thyrius ventures one: "There seems to be many potential paths for us to follow, none of which sound like a perfect solution to our problem. Nonetheless, we can't simply stand here poking holes at each others' suggestions." Then, looking at Toc more directly: "I wouldn't mind consulting at least one more advisor before we make a decision. Are you suggesting a magically-remote conversation with these contacts of yours as opposed to a trip to their headquarters for an in-person talk? The former sounds more swift. If so, it wouldn't hurt to know what Larloch took from this Candle Library, even if the information is only partial for now. Checking with the elven and human leaders on their willingness and readiness to attack Nhalloth could be more fruitful than expected."

Thyrius catches himself: "I know, I know... the black cat is being hopeful. Ironic, I know, but still worth a quick call or two, or even three."

"One can be known for misfortune, but should not be presumed to be hopeless brother." Xemnez finally spoke up again. "For it is often the misfortunate, or those simply believed to bring about such that can be the most hopeful. For without it acting as a counterpoint on many levels, most are all too often devoured or too twisted by misfortune to even retain their sense of self." 

He then turns to regard the rest. "I agree with my brother. First we confirm as much as can, as frustrating and as tiring as it can be. Then we choose something and act upon it, accepting both the potential risks and consequences." 

Toc sighs heavily, "Oh. I've forgotten about some limitations. My apologies. That's ok, I know a magic circle in each location, travel will be via temporary portal rather than teleportation. We can go to all of the locations in a single day quite easily. Let's prepare to journey." 

He waits for everyone to get ready. Bags packed, a few quickly magical spells to link your minds, and you're ready to go. Toc raises a finger in rememberance at the last moment and takes a few quick steps into the library.  He returns a few moments later with a book in his hands. He tucks the book away. Without any further pomp or ceremony, he promptly raises his hands up and then begins moving them about in a complex pattern. His motions are smooth and practiced and he almost seems bored as he weaves the powerful magic.  When Toc finishes his spell a glowing purple tear in space appears in the center of a glowing circle. Everyone steps through into the bright light of day. 

As you step through the portal, there is a dull rushing feeling and a momentary spot of utter blackness that you pass through before stepping forward and emerging onto a stone circle.  The sun is still above the horizon, just starting to dip below, the sky just gathering a reddish glow. The stone circle is set amongst large stone monoliths, some with more stone topping a pair. The sharp tang of salty sea air greets your nostrils as you gaze past the stones. The landscape around you is wide open, rolling grasslands with patches of rocky outcroppings, to one side, and then an abrupt sharp cliff that tumbles off to the crashing open ocean below. A narrow dirt road cuts through the  grasslands and heads right beside the teleportation circle you've emerged from.  Your eyes are then immediately drawn to the nearby huge edifice of what must be the great library of Candlekeep, surrounded by high curtain walls, with numerous tower pinnacles reaching up from behind the gateway. 

You were expecting a large, but singular building of some sort. Instead, massive walls contain a plethora of buildings that form a huge community within. 

The way forward is blocked by the enormous double gates of Candlekeep, standing three times the height of a human and wrought of black metal. Both doors are emblazoned with the sigil of Candlekeep. From here, a couple hundred feet away, you can tell that one of the two gates stands open far enough to admit visitors while the other is kept shut. A small contingent of perhaps a half-dozen men, bedecked in purple vestments, stand about outside the main gates in light discussion. 

Other than the walls and buildings of Candlekeep, there appears to be no other structures as far as the eye can see. The road winds its way out of site. The coast is free of any town or other buildings to the north and south. 

The group follows Toc out of the circle of menhirs and you walk down the road drinking in the site of Candlekeep, before arriving at the front door. Toc approaches the main gate and as he reaches the men in purple vestments, pulls out his book and hands it to them silently. One of them steps forward. He examines the book briefly, then nods to the other men and starts speaking. Toc raises a hand to forestall him. "My apologies, but I am here to see Great Reader Teles Ahvoste. Please inform her that Arfaern Toc from Semberholme is here to see her." 

The man in the vestments grimaces, "Indeed, I'm sure the Great council will be happy to hear the apology from your nation." 

Toc raises an eyebrow but says nothing.  There is a unusually long wait while you're kept outside the walls. Almost an hour passes, but eventually an older dwarf followed by an even older dwarf emerge, both wearing green vestments. "You may follow us." 

They lead the group through the main gates, through the thick walls of the citadel, and into a large, wide open courtyard.  There are several buildings clustered to the south, a gate to the north, and a large green gate on the far side. Otherwise this courtyard seems largely and rather empty.  They silently lead you across the quiet courtyard to the green doors. The doors open before you and you're led through. 

Beyond is the library proper which is a huge collection of building and towers.  You're walked past a gate house, up some stairs, and towards the huge central tower which the dwarf announces is the Tower of Exaltation. You're walked down a long winding path, up some stairs, and in through the main gateway. You follow 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. 

You reach the large double doors, outside which are a few stone benches....and the dwarf 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.  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. You see a half-elf woman, an older bronze dragonborn, an older human woman, a halfling male, and a githzeria man.  They each wear purple coloured vestments. 

As the doors close behind you, the group finds themselves at the center of attention of the five scholars. The half-elf woman with a sharp nose and dirty blonde hair speaks, "Welcome back to Candlekeep Toc of Semberholme. You should know that recently we were dragged into some sort of conflict by your people. You engaged Cormyr, Cormyr asked us for assistance, and then the Warlock himself assaulted our library, slaying the spirit dragon that guards this place, violating our Mythal...before stealing several books and escaping. Cormyr was not aware we faced such foes in this situation. Everyone was left woefully uninformed and ignorant....something that we can not abide. What say you?" 

Toc's mouth drops open and he seems to silently exhale air for a few moments of awkward silence that appear as if they will go on for some time.

Before departing...

"Wise as always, brother. You may need no advisor after all." Thyrius says with a smirk.

After teleporting...

-> Teleportation CON save: 6 (Let's see if Thyrius is wearing some barf as he arrives in Candlekeep. I'll give myself a DC of 10)

Thryrius eyes dart swiftly all around as he takes in as much as he can of this urban marvel/hell that seems to be called a library for some reason. He is very much out of his element and chooses to remain silent. That is doubly the case should he find himself wiping vomit from his mane upon arrival. He tries his best to memorize the paths taken just in case he needs to find his way back to the teleportation circle.

-> Survival check: 13  

At the mention of apologies and nations, Thyrius finds himself even farther removed from 'his element'. This politically charged conversation regarding the nations of a alien world to his own eyes pass high above his head. The mural depicting the sky brings back some fond memories of his own world, but that immersion is swiftly broken once the black cat realizes the birds are instead books or strange-looking winged humans.

The half-elven woman's words don't sound much like the story Thyrius has heard from Toc and Mirica, but he is in no position to correct any of them. For now, Thyrius watches from the back.

Mirica had nothing to do with either reality of the political moves of the elves or the perceptions thereof from the non-elven populace. Whether his brethren deceived Toc, or he was fully aware of the goings-on - it did not matter much. But the librarian asked him the question and Mirica was patiently waiting for the answer with mild curiosity.  

Nuzej reaches out telepathically over the link to the others. "Is that a likely verisimilitude of actual events, Toc? Are they missing context? I find it hard to believe that these people would be so underinformed. It is their job not to be."

As one of sturdier constitution, it was not his own body but that of Thyrius that Xemnez looked to once the group arrived at least close to their destination, readily offering a small towel snatched up in the past for just the occasion. Although if reminded of various magics at the group's disposal for the removal of any mess, he fights down a chuckle, and instead pats his brother once on the shoulder prior to readily following after Toc.

With later trust in his brother to mark the path, Xemnez instead appeared to casually take in the wonderous site. But in truth, his eyes moreso searched for any hints of lingering signs of the aftermath of their great adversaries attacks. While he held no illusions in the Lich being of the brutish sort, this hadn't precluded a need for more base tactics should a situation called for it. Especially if the defenses of Candlekeep were as tough as what might've been eluded to during any discussion or references to the place.

In the end, as much as they are made to wait, the younger of the Leonin brother's simply took in stride and used those moments to loosely meditate on the spot, and consider the future of the meeting. Yet when the moment finally arrived to do some talking, even Xemnez found himself grimacing and at a loss for words. So instead, he looked to the other individuals gathered in the room and tried to glean at least something of their personal feelings regarding the situation at hand.

The Githzerai, who by far and large was the most alien in the room to Xemnez is given especially close attention, prior to attention moving on to the others.

-Insight: 15.

Then seeming to eventually find the nerve to speak, Xemnez crossed his arms and looked to Toc. "Now is... not the time for hesitation, Toc. Let your voice be heard, for there is much yet more in need of discussion before the day is out." 

Xemnez, nor anyone sees any signs of any battle, assault, or other sort of combat anywhere outside, or inside Candlekeep at you journeyed to the council hall. In fact, everything looks entirely pristine and orderly. 

Toc mentally responds to Nuzej, "I...don't know, but I agree with you...." 

Toc finally manages to find his tongue, "Ahem. I'm afraid I've not been privy to the discussion and negotiations between Semberholme and Cormyr, and again between Cormyr and yourself. I fear such an oversight as not mentioning the risks to all of us, and the culprit behind it seems, to me, a gross error. I can not say where along the line of communications such a tragic gap was formed. It seems...ridiculous that this group of so well learned and knowledgable people should be the ones left...uninformed. But, now is not the time to perseverate over such things. We are doing all we can to stop Larloch in his tracks, and had hoped that you could share with us what he came here seeking."

As Xemnez watches the faces of the scholars he sees a mixture of emotions, though especially on the strange Githzeria face, and the alien Dragonborne face, emotion seems difficult to assess. Regardless, it seems that there is much anger in the room. Anger, and frustration....but perhaps so caused by recent loss?  

Another of the scholars, the bronze Dragoborn, opens his mouth, "Larloch came here and slew the spirit of Miirym. The very heart of Candlekeep. Reader Ahvoste has asked why we were not informed that we were tangling in the Warlock's affairs, and your response is to ask us for information? Oh, the most lovely irony is at play here today." 

Toc spreads his hands to the side in a useless expression, "I...I am sorry for your loss. I am afraid my nation has more reason than many to feel anger at the Shadovar, and Larloch, who is first among Netheril. But surely your rage must be directed at him, not us? We...we are trying to help."

Reader Teles Ahvoste raises a hand to forestall another response, and then takes a deep breath, "You should know that we have already contracted our own mercenaries to further our interests in this situation. But. You have one thing right elf. Larloch has earned a major part of our ire."  She raises her voice, "Direct them to the Copper Study."  She returns her attention to the group of you, "You will be shown copies of the books stolen by Larloch and his Lich allies before they were driven from our library. You are dismissed."

That seems to have gone better than expected, given the initial tone of the conversation. Thyrius keeps that thought in his head, hoping that, at best, only his companions could hear it though the mental link they shared.

Does Thyrius feel like his mind is being read by the librarians?

-> Insight check: 14   
(If arcana would be a better fit, please deduct 1 from the result.)

Thyrius quests out with his mind, wondering if his mind might be being read....but finds no evidence. Indeed, none of these 'great readers' appear to be concentrating on him or any of the other party members to any great degree.  Certainly no one staring at him as if trying to drill into his head with their eyes. 

Toc mentally says to the group, "Unless anyone has anything to add, I suggest we make haste to the books they've proffered."

Mirica contemplated briefly an idea to ask for some information about Larloch - after all, the group was in the biggest known library in this part of the world - but the scholars "dismissed" the group, so, checking on the books seemed more productive. She silently followed others to the room with said books.

Satisfied with his silent examination, Thyrius responds mentally: "Aye, let us go."

The group quietly shuffles out of the hostile feeling room and is soon once again following behind the gruff old dwarf.  He leads you down the main hallway lined with guards, down several flights of stairs, and out of the large tower holding the council room. Through a myriad of secondary towers you're eventually led into a squat square tower with beaten copper lining its outer walls.  Inside you find a dusty crowded labyrinth of book shelves crammed with books. The smell of dry old velum and paper fills the air with a musty but strangely comforting scent. Your escort leads you through to a door, past which you find a good sized reading room.  On the table are set several books. 

"These are copies of the books that were stolen."  The dwarf, whose name you still don't know, steps outside the room. 

The book's you're left with are :  "Meteorologic Log : Year 3520", "Venerations to Jannath : A collection of Poetry", "The Bones of Sanctuary", and "The Lost City of the Moon: A Travellers Tale". 

The first book appears to be a book that logs the daily weather in the Netheril empire. It's extremely detailed but ends abruptly 3/4 of the way through. 

The second book appears to be dwarven poetry, with extensive writings in the sidebars. 

The third book talks appears to be an autobiographical story of man in the year 3718, talking about a trip he took down the sword coast.  

The final book appears to be another autobiographical of a man's journey across different realms of existence.  

Each book is clearly a copy, though still each is an ancient book in its own right. 

The group scours through the books.  The writing in the side bar of the dwarven poetry (which has been translated in common), is particularly cryptic and tough to read. That said, the group does find some particularly interesting gems in their books. 

The Bones of Sanctuary, are from an explorer before there was much of a sword coast. The land was wild and barely settled. Certainly there was no Candlekeep, no Waterdeep, or any of the modern cities. Elves seemed to rule the forests.  As far as you can tell, the dates correspond to less than 100 years after the fall of Netheril.  The story is well written, includes some rough hand drawn maps, and details the explorers trip from a location on the coast as he travels south.  The story doesn't take long to read. Near the last third of the book, the traveler comes upon a fallen city. It's not right on the coast, but he spots an odd landmark miles inland and follows it to find a Netheril city. His accounting describes his approach, and his ultimate conclusion that this must have been the Netheril city of Orbedal, also known as Sanctuary. This city was a beacon of hope and peace in an otherwise war torn history of humans. The traveller encounters one of the great Netheril mages....Larloch.  By all accounts, Larloch was desperately sad, depressed. He was already a Lich at this time. He seemed to be drowning in grief for the loss of the empire and his own city...and the traveler felt a deep well of pity for the...even then....ancient being.  The name of the book, represent the remains of the city, but also refers to Larloch as "the bones of Sanctuary".  The location matches to information you already have for "Warlock's Crypt". However a description of the grounds as he approached it could be helpful. 

The meteorological accounts of the year, is the year that Netheril fell. You assume that on the 17th day of Marpenoth...or just the start of fall season, is when Karsus cast his spell, for there are no entries after this date.  However, a month before this, there were fierce storms. Specifically called out is that the floating city of Lathery, or Lachery, which usually traveled over the Narrow Sea so that they could do their fishing, was forced to travel south nearly 50 miles.  If this is true, then you have a much better idea of where the ruins of that city might lie, and they'd be at the southern end of where the lake has recently formed. 

The next book is a fantastical story about a person traveling through the cosmos. The human ends up in all sorts of weird places, but eventually ends up in a realm known as the "Gates of the Moon".  The realm, the home of the goddess Selune, was quite fantastical, but it is here that the traveler came upon a piece of his own homeworld. He encountered Selunarra, a Netheril city. Floating lazily in this peaceful realm the city was fully intact and full of people that had been living there since the fall.  Amidst the retelling of his visit that he learns a legend that Selunarra will have a heroic return to its home world of Faerun when they are needed most, and would be called thus by "The Ritual of the Waxing".  Further it goes on to describe this ritual in detail.  Not only must this ritual be performed at a precise location, described as Elah'zad, a holy site in the Anauroch, but would require "The Eye of Selune".  A cryptic sentence states that the Eye of Selune can be found "In Selune's Smile".  

Lastly there is a dwarven poetry book, which....by all accounts is the most dry, tedious poetry that you've ever read. They are so long that you lose track of where one ends and another begins.  One poem, a much shorter one is only 30 lines long.  Scribbled amongst the sidebar is a very interesting note.  "3 miles north of Myth Drannor, great tree home, main foyer...'twelve thousand years'."   The poem is as follows: 

At the days of old there was only darkness far and wide.
And beasts ruled the void, as there was no need to hide.
The beasts, they laughed, giggled and formed their evil schemes,
entrapped and killed each other and madness reigned by all means.

Yet at one faithful day in a world without time,
from far they could perceive a sound, a soft chime.

The chime grew louder and ripped them apart in a bright flood,
and before them came a being full of light and fun.
Soon they realized they were lost, t'was Armok, god of blood,
who caught them all no matter how far they would run.

He imprisoned them deep in his heart as his veins were filled with magma.
Yet their dark hearts corrupted his and he got filled with rage.
Out of his sad thoughts formed the deities to protect him from any dark age.
And as he cried tears full of water to keep them in he fell down to stay asleep.
And asleep he stayed for a long time as the eons passed.

The deities formed the humans, the elves, the kobolds and us dwarves,
and all the other fairy creatures you on the land can see.
They lived in peace and harmony and held a party every day.
Yet they soon realized that 'tis not how it shall always be.

There were monsters coming onto the land coming from his dark dreams,
and oh they changed the world, raided city after city full of screams.
And in this chaos the beasts knew that his heart had cracks.
So they escaped to the world and enthralled their own packs.

'Tis the world how it is today and how it shall ever be and we can only hope,
that stands strong the halls of our fathers may, for ten thousand years.

Toc taps his finger against his chin, "3 miles north of Myth Drannor. I might know the tree home they're referring to."

Mirica meanwhile says, "There's a bar in Waterdeep called Selune's Smile."

Mirica made that remark absolutely absentmindedly by simple association. Her brain was occupied by the first book. Even if nobody was going to Warlock's Crypt, a couple of weeks spent reading about anything Larloch related created a sort of reflex to automatically pay attention to these keywords. So far the text seemed to confirm her wild theory about reversing time. The idea still sounded crazy to her but explained the motives of the ancient evil pretty well.