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Message: <blockquote data-quote="spyscribe" data-source="post: 1368637" data-attributes="member: 5808">Part the ThirtiethIn which: an alchemist stammers, Moira causes some to blush, and Thatch once again stares at his shoes.Upon reaching Moira’s way-post, the party finds it is in as much a state of upset as the Temple of Justice was that morning.  Lori, head of the local Water Walkers, has been in meetings since late the previous night, and Moira finds that several of her fellow Walkers have not been seen since approximately the time of the attack.  “Of course,” she qualifies, “that’s not so unusual here as it would be among the Justicars.”Having run out of ways to immediately pursue investigation into the mystery of the shadow beasts, the party decides to see if they can find anything out about the black powder that started the explosion.  They suspect this might have been the “supplies” spoken of in the note they found with Jelliana’s cell.“Jelliana?” Moira asks, “of the Handmaidens?”Anvil fixes her with a trademark stare.  “Do you know this woman?”“A little bit.  I used to work with her.”“You used to be a Handmaiden?”Moira nods without a trace of self-consciousness, adjusting a lute that hangs across her back.  “I’ve been a little bit of everything in service to Alirria.  I started as a Giver, tried being a Handmaiden, and now I’m a Water Walker.”Thatch gulps and once again finds something fascinating to look at on the toe of his boot.  He had been doing so much better with the whole “not staring” thing.**********“We are looking for the least reputable alchemist in Dar Pykos,” Anvil announces as the party walks in the front doors of the Alchemist’s Guild.“Huh—Wha—?” the desk clerk seems somewhat flustered by this request.  “I’m sure we wouldn’t have that information here— ” he begins.“There is a substance,” Anvil continues undeterred, “a powder that can be ignited to explosive effect.  Who knows the art of its manufacture?”Behind him, Moira gives her new companions a questioning glance.  Most of them shrug as though to say, “You get used to it.”The clerk, however, is as of yet unaccustomed to outbursts of this nature.  He finally manages to blurt out:  “Who are you anyway?”Anvil is brought up short for a fraction of a second, as though the answer should be self-evident.  “We are the hand and might of Kettenek,” he finally replies. The clerk stares at him.  Behind Anvil, someone coughs.Anvil glances over his shoulder to find the vast majority of his companions looking almost as skeptical as the clerk.  He turns back and amends his earlier statement.  “Well, I am.”Introductions out of the way, the clerk is quite cooperative, although his information is rather disappointing to the adventurers.  The black power (fire powder in the vernacular) is both cheap and simple to fabricate.  It can be safely transported over long distances as long as precautions are taken to keep it away from open flame, and it can be stored in a dry place indefinitely without harm to its efficacy.“So,” says Thatch, “they could have gotten it from anywhere, been amassing it in small batches for months and there’s no way to trace it even if it hadn’t all been used up in the explosion.”Reluctantly, the party has to agree with that assessment, and decides to abandon that avenue of investigation.On the whole, it’s been a frustrating day for the adventurers.  Their greatest accomplishment: chasing off a group of ten-year-olds throwing rocks.Moira takes her leave and returns to her way-post.  Reyu also departs, heading for the outskirts of the city to spend time with the local community of elves and “be among green things.”  With no mission, and no collective obligations for the remainder of the evening, the adventurers each take their own ways through the city…**********Anvil’s way, naturally, leads back to the Temple of Justice.There is a small writing desk in a corner of the catacombs of the Temple of Ketennek which is reserved -- by tradition -- for Anvil the Just. Although it stands in a particularly dark corner with an uncomfortably low ceiling, Anvil prefers it to all others because it connects, by way of an ancient arched doorway, to the most hallowed records of Ketennite justice, the primary sources upon which all modern rulings are based. While others content themselves to study the recent writings and cases, Anvil prefers the uninterpreted word of the Justicars of old.It is very late at night, though there is no way to tell that down here.  Anvil sits at the desk, preparing a scroll from the wisdom of a weighty tome scribed by Stronghold the Just in elder years.  He works by candlelight, and the candle he started with has burned its way down to a tiny nub when Tenacious the Just appears behind him."Justicar Anvil," he says.  “I thought I might find you down here.”"Tenacious the Just," Anvil replies. He slips off his stool to stand before his superior.“Working late?” Tenacious asks, with a light smile.“I am working,” Anvil responds.  “Is it late?”“Very,” Tenacious responds with a sigh.  He seems weary.  Preoccupied.  "Tell me of your companions, Anvil," he says, abruptly."Surely you know the priests of this temple as thoroughly as--""No, no.  Of those companions with whom you traveled to Dar Aego.  Those with whom you saved many lives at the Mages' Academy of late.""Ah," replies Anvil. He contemplates the question, unmoving. Finally, he speaks: "They are just, each in his or her own way.""And are they skilled?""They are.""Trustworthy?""Indeed."With the next question, Tenacious's brow assumes the most serious of postures. "Anvil, if the best interests of the Caucus rested upon their shoulders -- if the best interests of the Temple of Justice itself rested upon them -- do you believe they could be relied on?  Do you feel they could act in those interests?"Anvil considers, but only briefly, before he answers.  "As they are with me, and I with them."Tenacious takes in Anvil’s words.  Then he nods. "Good.  Those interests -- of Ketennek, and of the Caucus – may well fall to you all.  And soon." Anvil’s curiosity gets the better of him.  “In what manner?”But Tenacious shakes his head.  “I cannot talk about it yet.  I will know more later.  All I can say is that you should be ready.”  Tenacious turns to leave.  “Don’t work too late.”"May Ketennek's Justice be upon you," intones Anvil."And you," Tenacious replies, and he disappears into the darkness.Very well, then, Anvil thinks to himself, as he returns his attention to the wisdom of Stronghold the Just…**********Special thanks this week to Bad Monkey Jeff for writing up Anvil's scene with Tenacious!</blockquote>

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