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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sir Brennen" data-source="post: 2033611" data-attributes="member: 553">April 18th 998We continued on the little used path to the monastery, the ground becoming stonier as we climbed into the foothills.  By mid-afternoon, we could make out a group of buildings behind a crumbling wall up ahead.  The place didn't look to be in the greatest shape, with a weathered and blackened building, damaged by fire long ago, at the far end from the gate.Within bowshot of the place, there was a fresh grave at the side of the road.  As it was a bit unusual, Father Al took a closer look.  The marker had the name "Brother Able" on it, as well as that of the monastery - "Montellegro".  I had an ill feeling about the grave, for as I have said, Gallera takes into consideration the respect shown the dead before she passes final judgement on a soul.  While not completely familiar with all the burial rites of the new god, I felt the same principal was at work here, but it was a level of disrespect being displayed for this lone grave. Surely the monastery had a better place of rest intended for those who passed away in their god's service.Working our way up to the gates, we spied one of the monks as he was tending the rocky soil.  He looked up, appearing somewhat surprised to see visitors to this out of the way place, and introduced himself as Brother Horatio.  He asked us to wait while he went and got the Abbott, Brother Anselm. An older man came back with Horatio, who invited us onto the grounds. Walking toward a chapel in need of some upkeep, I noticed there was indeed a graveyard at the opposite end of the building.  Father Al, being among his people, did most of the talking.  He explained that we were looking for some writings that Vittorio Matteao had donated to the monastery long ago.  Anselm looked a bit concerned and apologetic when he heard the reason for our visit, explaining that a large portion of their library had been lost in a fire almost two decades before, during an attack by brigands.  He had been living here during that time, but most of the brothers had been evacuated before the attack, with just a few left behind to try and shore up the abbey as best they could.  All of those who stayed were unfortunately killed.  The library, a source of some pride and renown for the monastery of Montellegro, was sacked and burned.  Those texts that could be recovered had since been moved to the building housing the scriptorium.  He invited us to look there, but could make no promises about what we might find.The Abbott offered for us to give us rooms for the night; only a portion of the monastery buildings were currently in use and there was plenty of space.  He also invited us to supper with them, on the condition that we attended evening services.  Barrick and I weren't too certain about going to a strange religious service.  When the added condition of removing our weapons while on the grounds was brought up, that cinched it; we were going to camp outside the walls tonight.At the door of the scriptorium, Father Al broached the subject of Brother Able's grave out by the road.  Looking saddened by the subject, the abbot explained that Able, an illuminator of scripts within the order, had killed himself, throwing himself from the scriptorium roof to this very spot, but two nights before.  That did explain the exclusion from the chapel graveyard, but I think most of us had suspicions about this so-called suicide, even though none of us had known the lad.  My thoughts went immediately to the shadow elves, that perhaps they were aware of the notebooks we sought as well.  I nudged Father Al in the ribs and told him to ask the abbot what Able had been working on.  He waved me off, apparently deciding now was not the time.  Hmph.Still thinking of the dark elves, I suggested to Barrick that we go and look around the outside of the monastery, leaving the others to hunt for the books.  Scouting around the outside walls, I noticed a few crumbled spots where a small group might enter fairly easily, if their approach wasn't noticed.  Someone accomplishing that would be a bit harder, as steep slopes surrounded the monastery on three sides, with the trail by which we had come the only path up.  However, I didn’t know well the brothers kept watch on any approach.After supper, we met everyone else at the gate and they told us what they had found, which was basically nothing.  There was an inventory that did list Matteao's notebooks, but they were not in the scriptorium anywhere.  A passing idea of finding the bandits to see if they took the books comes up, but was dismissed because of the years that had passed since that event.  Barrick and I thought that perhaps we could investigate the burned down library, to see if any clues had been left there.  At the very least, it would give us a bit of shelter to sleep under tonight.  When the bell for the evening services had finished ringing, we sneaked through one of the fallen sections of the wall and went to the gutted building.  There was a pile of rubble from the collapsed roof that removed any hope of finding anything resembling a basement.  Scraps of charred paper and scorched book covers littered the area, but we found little else.  I climbed the loose stones to look out over the roof, to see if there was anyone or anything moving about that shouldn't be.  Satisfied that all was clear, I found a suitable rock for a pillow, and fell into a light sleep, lulled by Barrick's snore.</blockquote>

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