A Candlekeep Mystery (IC)

[FitzTheRuke]

(OOC) Chat Thread
(RG) Rogue's Gallery

Welcome to Candlekeep

A coach rolled down the road along the narrow isthmus that connected the rocky crag to the coastlands. It was a grey day with a biting wind as the coachman pulled the reins as they arrived at a pair of towering gates in black iron. The footman dismounted and opened the coach's door, marked with the emblem of the Black Dragon Gate Mining Consortium.

"We have arrived at Candlekeep," the footman said, stating the obvious, as the two occupants descended the short steps. The wind brought with it a light sea-spray, salty and cold.

Multicoloured towers rose above from behind the wall, some with peaked roofs flying banners, others flat-topped or domed. On the wall above the gates, a dour-faced wizard stood, his robes blowing in the wind like something from one of the great plays. At the iron gates were five priests in purple vestments, ready to greet the new arrivals and to negotiate the terms of their entrance.

GM: Here arrives Hawthorne and Argenti, who can feel free to speak to the Avowed at the gates. I will introduce the others soon. The coachman's name is Broun (a middle-aged half-orc) and the footman's name is Shedrick, a young human man.

Spoiler: Candlekeep

 

[DEFCON 1]

Hawthorne descends from the coach after the young Genasi woman, pulling his cloak around him a bit tighter to ward off the bite of the ocean air. He glances up at the towering citadel before them before looking back at the footman.

"Thank you, Shedrick, for your assistance on the journey... your stories about the Grand Dukes were quite amusing." He lifts his chin towards the coachman and nods to the man sitting on the seat at the front of the carriage. "Sorry we didn't get to speak more, Broun. Perhaps when I return home we'll get a chance to talk then."

He smiles at both men and says to them over his shoulder as he begins walking towards the front gates of Candlekeep "When you get back to the Consortium, tell them I'll get in touch once I've found anything concrete. I suspect I'll be doing a lot of reading over the next several days, so if you see my mother please tell her that 'Yes, I will make sure to get up and walk around a bit to stretch my legs and will drink plenty of water.' I know she doesn't like it when I'm curled up reading for hours on end and not going outside."

Hawthorne turns back to Argenti and then motions his right hand towards the gates and the five robed acolytes awaiting them. "Shall we, Miss?"

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Broun tipped his hat and waited until Shedrick had gathered Hawthorne and Argenti's personal items before dismounting and conscientiously double-checking the horses' comfort - their hooves, the yoke, and all. It was partly regular care and maintenance, and partly on the off-chance that they were refused entry. Broun dubious that anyone could by anything at all with only a book.

As it happened, the consortium had done their research, and the book that Hawthorne carried was a missing part of a collection that the First Reader (Candlekeep's master of collections) had requested. Hawthorne was expected, and the Avowed at the gates greeted him warmly, confirming the book's authenticity with broad smiles and nods.

"For this great gift that will enrich the library's collections, you may come and go as often as you like, for a period not exceeding six month's time. You may designate up to three assistants to accompany you at any point during that time." they told Hawthorne, generously.

They turned to Argenti, with curiosity and mild excitement, hoping that her exotic appearance suggested that she had brought them something interesting from afar.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Hawthorne laughs at the Avowed's comment and shrugs sheepishly.

"If my research takes more than six months, then I should rightly be sent back home and not be allowed back in here at all, another new book or no."

He glances over at the young woman with a pique of curiosity as to the tome she is intending to donate for admittance, and notes immediately that she does not, as yet, have a book to present in hand.

 

[Leatherhead]

Argenti smiles at Hawthorn and nods in appreciation and agreement as she disembarks the vehicle. Awaiting her turn patiently and quietly fretting over what to do, she suddenly seems distracted for but a moment, as a distant voice feeds her an idea.

"Ah, yes, a book. Of course." The Genasi has a twinge of apprehension about her. "I do have one, a Book of Wonders, detailing Dao magic and rituals on how to contact them."

Argenti takes out a simple linen package and unwraps it. Revealing, in a most dramatic contrast, a book that could easily considered an illuminated manuscript. Bound in a purple leather, with gold and silver painted edge, and a strange lock on the front that seems to take a key in the shape of a gemstone.

"There is but one condition" The young woman asserts herself in the face of the wide-eyed guards. "This book is a family heirloom, and as such I cannot let it stay within these hallowed walls." After taking a breath to allow herself, and everyone else, to regain their composure, she continues. "However, I have been told that your fellow priests can copy such manuscripts. And that would be permissible, I pray?"

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The avowed acknowledged that the book that Hawthorne had brought them was very valuable to them indeed; the consortium had done its research, and had been very fortunate to have acquired it.

When Agenti stepped up, they could not hide their astonishment. This book was something else entirely. It was a unique book, written by an extraplanar being. Without proper time for study, it's value was difficult to quantify. Copying it would be costly and require their most skilled scribes. The group of five dithered, debating among themselves until Hawthorne grew bored and cleared his throat.

One stepped forward, nodded and told Argenti, "This gift is acceptable. You are allowed entry for a time that will be determined by the Keeper of Tomes - your guide will let you know. The book will be returned to you before you leave; but you must stay until we have had time to produce a reasonable facsimile."

To conclude, the avowed told them, "We bid you welcome to Candlekeep! An adjutant guide will be assigned to each of you and will find you within the hour. May you find what you Seek."

They moved aside and Hawthorne and Argenti walked through the towering black metal gate. A wide open-air courtyard stretched before them. Seekers and their Avowed guides came and went across its cobblestone expanse between cylindrical towers on the north side and a series of buildings to the south.

From the gatehouse, on the left and traveling clockwise, were a bathhouse; a smithy and stables; a temple; a large granary; a three-story inn; a humble tavern; and a long building that appeared to be some kind of cloister or work-house. Directly across the courtyard was another high wall, beyond which were the towers of the inner ward. Inset in the wall was a large emerald-green door that softly glowed with its own light. Continuing clockwise from the north-west end of the court, a small cluster of shops. Then there were the cylindrical towers, which varied in height along the north side all the way to the right of the gates.

Outside, Broun shook his head in wonder - it was not his sort of place at all. He tucked down his hat to keep the wind from stealing it away. Then he clicked at the horses and he empty coach rolled down the Way of the Lion, beginning the long journey back to Baldur's Gate.

 

[DEFCON 1]

Glancing around and across the courtyard, Hawthorne takes in all the sights that lay before him quickly and in detail... committing their placement to his memory. As all the various peoples make their way back and forth across the grounds, his pull is towards the temple to Oghma on his left, Oghma being his patron deity and the Lord of Knowledge. He turns to smile at the Genasi woman and acknowledges the gift she presented to the Avowed.

"Dao magic, eh? Sounds like you've got quite the family if that's what you have for an heirloom." Chuckling to himself, he reaches down to grab one of his satchels and slings it over his shoulder, while he points out the three-story inn to Shedrick-- the footman standing next to him holding much of the luggage. "You want to get us a couple rooms, Shedrick, over at the inn? I need to tithe a few coins to The Binder now that we've arrived."

He nods once more to the young woman before turning towards the temple. "May you indeed find what you seek, Miss. It has been a pleasure." With a click of his hard leather heels against the cobblestones, the young man strides confidently across the courtyard.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Shedrick hefted his master's cases and nodded, heading for the House of Rest while Hawthorne moved toward the temple. For a moment, both men paused to watch as an tall woman in armour brought a magnificent griffon out of the stables and had it stand by the smithy while the smith - a balding dwarf with an impressive red beard - fitted a newly-crafted helmet over the griffon's enormous and beautiful bird-like head.

When Hawthorne entered the Temple of Oghma, through a door with a polished handle cast in silver and shaped like an unrolling scroll, the priest was reciting a familiar prayer, "An idea has no heft but it can move mountains. An idea has no authority but it can dominate people. An idea has no strength but it can push aside empires. Knowledge is the greatest tool of the mortal mind, outweighing anything made by mortal hands. Before anything can exist, the idea must exist."

When finished, the priest came over and welcomed Hawthorne, adding, "I am Lorekeeper Kei. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them."

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Kaliban sat at the bar in the Hearth. On the stool beside him, his guide (a human man named Parmak) was absorbed in a book, his drink left untouched.

Though from the outside, the Hearth appeared to be of modest size, it was at least three times more spacious on the inside. A dozen doors that were not visible from the outside lined the walls. Over the long bar, an intricate clockwork device was suspended, with a faintly glowing crystal orb that spun creating a soft humming sound. Kaliban understood it to be a Geometric Amplifier, created by worshipers of Gond. It was responsible for the extradimensional magic that created the tavern's improbable dimensions.

Early in the day, the place was only half-full. Even so, the patrons were a mix of fresh-faced adjutants, stodgy scholars, and eclectic guests. Though many stools were empty, the bar could seat up to twenty customers. Most patrons were seated at round tables with stout wooden chairs or at rectangular tables with benches. A dozen soft, cushy armchairs encircled the fireplace in the centre of the room.

Off to one side, a halfling cranked and fingered at a hurdy-gurdy while tapping his foot. The patrons engaged in lively conversations regarding things they had read, or sat alone with a drink or a meal, and a book. Nearly always, there was a book.

 

[Leatherhead]

Argenti eases herself in a sign of relief at the acolyte's words, and turns a cheeky grin Hawthorne. "Would you believe the Dao that wrote it is my ancestor?" Adding, "And thank you again, for your kind help!" before she turns to celebrate her entry.

While marveling at the keep, the young woman is taken in by the cool sea breeze and the large emerald door guarding the inner. She had finally made it here, to the largest stockpile of knowledge in the world. From here, she could no doubt find the there whereabouts of a valuable treasure, one fit enough for Aurumamma's collection.

But first she had to wait for the adjutant assigned to her. An hour it would take? What could be done in that time?

The granary, hah. Likewise the smithy and stables weren't for her. The temple, it wasn't one of her pantheon, but it couldn't hurt to get on the good side of the clergy. Still there had to be something more immediate. The inn, too soon to check in. The tavern, maybe, in a bit, she needed to stretch out her legs more before sitting at a table. Ah, the bathhouse, perfect for now.

Readying a soap from her homelands, Argenti settled on her course.