bahoust says:
"I suppose it would be good for use to discuss our choice together as a group privately. Before you go, if none other of my friends have other questions, I pray I might trouble you with a riddle over a trinket I picked up. Therrien slips the card he found onto the table.
"Can anyone tell me something about this?"Popo and Eoghan both reach for the card, with the alchemist able to get to it first using his longer arms. He brings the card close to his face, then to his nose and smells deeply. Closing his eyes, he holds it up to his ear and listens for a few seconds. Then he hands the card over to Popo,
"I believe this is more your territory, Po."
The gnome receives the card, pulls out a small loupe and placing it in he eye. After a careful examination of the front and back of the card, he removes the loupe.
"This is fascinating. Remarkable. Gubernatorial, even!" The two ladies look sideways at Popo. Samantha rolls her eyes, but cracks a small smile.
"Eoghan is correct; I believe this card can be used to summon the creature portrayed on the front, though it's unclear exactly how it works or how the creature will behave when summoned. Tell me, where did you find this? Do you happen to have any more that I could use for comparison?"
After a brief hesitation, Harper places his card on the table as well. Popo's eyes light up. He picks up the second card and again utilizes his hand lens.
"Astounding! Yes, I'm quite certain that these cards somehow contain the 'souls' or 'essences' of the creatures depicted on them. I believe the practice is simply to place the card where you wish the summoned to appear and speak the name of the creature. The creature will likely act of its own will, but in a way that treats you, the summoner, as friendly." He stops and frowns, causing the X formed by his eyebrows and mustache to contract and change shape.
"The only thing that cannot be determined is the duration of the summons, and whether it can be repeated or is good for a single use."
He smiles widely, his eyes disappearing behind cheeks and facial hair.
"That knowledge, dear friends, can only be gained through trial. Thus, the adventure of the art of summoning magic."
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Yogurt says:
After tallying votes we note to the guard to alert the King and he and his companions rejoin us in the room.
"We appreciate the ability to be able to have input in our adventuring companion. As incredible as all of your talents are, we believe that Ms. Brighthill will be most complementary to our party and we would be honored to have her join us."Samantha smiles.
"I am excited to continue my quest for knowledge with your party."
Suddenly there's a commotion at one of the doors. The guard captain enters the dining room followed by a dwarf with a white beard that drags on the floor, hands bound behind his back, shouting about needing to speak with the King and telling the captain that there are lives at stake. Trailing the dwarf are 6 more guards, the middle two carrying a large wooden chest.
When the dwarf sees King Alexander, he starts to run—as much as an elderly dwarf can—towards him, yelling
"Your Justice, your Justice! I found someth'n' about–"[b] interrupted by the force of the rope securing his hands yanking him backwards of his feet. The other end of the rope is in the hands of one of the guards.
The guard captain steps forward and addresses Alexander. [b]"We found this, eh, gentleman in the archive room trying to steal some ancient tomes. I was going to take him straight to the dungeon until he mentioned something about an artifact..." The captain takes on a hushed tone,
"and the name 'Dorothir'."
"There were TWO Dorothir's!" the old dwarf yells from his new position on the beautiful marble floor, seated with his legs awkwardly sticking straight out in front of him.
The King's eyes widen at the captain's remark, then narrow at the dwarf's. He stands, fastens his robe, and says curtly,
"Friend, I'd ask for your name so we could do introductions, but we're a bit short on time. You have 60 seconds to say what you must." Alexander motions with two fingers for the guards to untie their captive.
Rubbing his wrist, the dwarf looks horrified as he begins speaking, his voice deep as a dwarven mine and raspy as the sandstone they shape, but his dwarven accent has faded.
"O-oh, yes. Well, s-s-see, I am Y-Ye-Yerick Glads-s-s-stone, bardic sch-ch-ch—" Frustrated, Yerick stops. His face has started to grow flush with embarrassment and disappointment.
Everyone in the room adopts similar looks and postures of confusion at Yerick's seemingly new stutter. It is the King who first deciphered situation. He begins badgering the dwarf.
"Come now, old man, what's the matter? You've done all this work, risked everything to bring me some all-important information, and now you're going to blow your chance? Spit it out!"
Yerick's expression slowly shifts from shame to anger, but when he tries to speak again, the stutter continues.
"S-s-s-sir, I d-d-di-"
Alexander interrupts him, pulling out his pocket watch,
"Tick tick, Y-Y-Yerick." The scholarly dwarf starts to turn red as he begins to scowl. King Alexander tucks the watch back into his chest pocket.
"As I suspected. A dwarf who spends his time reading old stories and playing with his copper whistle. Hmph," Alexander scoffs condescendingly.
"I ought to have the elf over there show you what real fortitude looks like. Or maybe my gnome friend could teach you the proper ways to use that dim dwarven brain rattling around inside your bulbous head. Enough of this. Guards." The king waves his hand dismissively.
Yerick snaps around at the guards,
"WAIT!"
Alexander holds up his hand and the guards stop in their places.
Turning back the the king, his face red as a beet, sweat beading on his forehead and cheeks, steam practically coming out of his ears, the old dwarf points a short, bony finger at the King. When he speaks, his dwarvish accent is thick.
"Now ye list'n 'ere, y' soft-skinned pip. I came up 'ere t' tell ye an' yer friends that I just finish'd translatin' an ol' epic poem what shed new light on th' legendary Dorothir. I found a bit o' punctuation what 'ad been left out o' early copies, changin' th' meanin'. 'Dorothir the dragon slayer' shoulda been 'Dorothir, dragon, the slayer.'
He slams his fist into his palm. [b]"I cross'd it with two other epics what'd been dismissed on account of swaths not makin' any sense with th' bulk o' material on Dorothir. But, read in this new light, they tell of Ahnnahl-Phizuur, a dragon swearin' t' avenge th' murder of his father, Dorothir the dragon by recoverin' his horn an' usin' it to raise him back t' life.
Our legendary Dorothir kills Ahnnahl-Phizuur an' tells him that as punishment he'll take Dorothir's name as a means o' blottin' him out o' hist'ry altogether. Before Dorothir—our Dorothir—killed the dragon, Ahnnahl'd collected a piece o' his pap's horn an' taken it t' his lair in th' Spires, th' ruins off th' coast from Noonick, in th' buildin' from which he could survey th' whole o' his empire."
The old dwarf straightens his back and crosses his arms across his chest over his long beard.
"'Course, if none o' that infermation is useful t' ye, fine. Arrest me. If it is, I'll be on m' way just as soon as ye give me th' apology I'm owed."
King Alexander bows deeply.
My sincere and humblest apologies, Yerick Gladstone. You clearly are a dedicated and fastidious scholar, worthy of adulation. And, I hope that you can forgive my rudeness. I can assure you it was not heartfelt, but only intended to rile you up enough to help you get your message across more quickly, as we are indeed in something of a hurry." The elderly dwarf's demeanor softens slightly, but he says nothing.
Alexander moves to a table along a wall adorned with parchment and ink and hastily scribbles a not, then slowly approaches Yerick.
"Thank you for bringing this information at great personal risk. I will see that you are rewarded." The king hands the paper to Yerick.
"And, after you take this to the head archivist over in the library, you should never receive any harassment gaining access to any archive in my domain, including my personal library."
"Th-th-th-thank you, your J-Justice." Yerick's disposition has completely changed, as he stares at the note in shock, then back up at the king. Alexander gently leads him toward the door, as two guards begin to escort him out. King Alexander calls out, just as Yerick is leaving the room,
"Let's share a meal soon!" Yerick looks back over his shoulder, beaming, then disappears through the doorway.
Alexander turns back to the table.
"Well, it seems the gods—Adonai, Ka'alanos, or someone else entirely—have smiled on us this day. What do the lot of you think about this new information? Is there any reason any of you know that we shouldn't follow this lead, post haste?"