Chapter 1 (Arc A): Investigation in the Library

You make your way to the library at the University, finding yourself standing in front of the magnificent edifice. Students are wandering in and out, people are standing out front passing out pamphlets and flyers, and everyone seems to be in a pretty reasonable mood.

As the three of you begin to pour over the catalog of information, hunting for titles and keywords that could possibly lend a clue, Marie-Louise suddenly sits bolt upright on her stool. The look on her face one of unmitigated joy. There was a two page section in one of the older catalog pieces that had a few titles scribbled out in scratchy letters, each with a trio of red stamped skulls next to them. When she cross-referenced them to a tome of descriptions, she found that two of those titles would likely have the best information they could hope to find: Secrets of the Soul and Flesh, author unknown, flesh-bound tome, Restricted Section; and Abbalonian's Journal 17, author Abbalonian Descargo, hard-bound journal, Third Tier, Records of Historic Deeds and Biographies.

Marie-Louise, you remember visiting the library with your father a few times before the unpleasantness. Getting into the Restricted Section usually requires permissions from someone, though you aren't 100% sure how you'd get them right now.

Ci, you have no problem finding Abbalonian's Journal 17. It's a small journal, only a hundred pages or so. Flipping inside, the writing is cramped and spindly.

Uriel, you aren't sure of much beyond needing to speak with the Archivist on duty to see what you would need to do.

The archivist peers over her glasses at Uriel.

Well, that would depend - uhm - sir. Which book are you trying to access, for what purpose, for how long. Et cetera, et cetera.

The archivist looks back at you, a touch of confusion in her eyes. For the lanterns? What do you mean? A moment passes and the title of the book registers with her. Now what in the name of the Gods would you be wantin' with that! Not precisely a light read. You'll need to get permission from a professor to even view that book! she said, exasperation and a touch of fear in her voice.

Of course it's a matter of investigation you daft lunk! This is the University Library, after all. We exist to serve investigations. But the rules must be adhered to. If this "Cthalet" character is not a professor or something which is studied here, I simply cannot just give access to all manner of restricted works! This is MY library, I shall make whatever scene is necessary to keep the sanctity and order that these halls have sought to preserve!

As Marie-Louise reads through the journal of one Abbalonian Descargo, she finds it lacking in mentions of evil or demons or C'thalet for much of the manuscript. However, about a third of the way through the document, the handwriting changes. What was once a flowing delicate script suddenly took on a different character. The words were largely still in common, with a smattering of Draconic in the margins. But now, there were definite hesitation points where the ink made large splotches, obscuring some of the work. If it weren't for the fact that the tone reads almost exactly the same, you would think it was a different author.

That's when she notices a bit of ink along the binding. She grabs a reflecting mirror and redirects the light from one of the table lamps down onto the page. Etched in tiny lines right where the seam meets is a simple Abyssal invection: Fhaagathra! Phl'gw'nathi crwlagrah C'thalet Pwgra nghsossotha! The same thing the black hooded man had been yelling in the square.

Deeper in the book, she starts to see small sketches of runes. Some Abyssal in nature, others languages she doesn't know. The bits and pieces she can make out, it seems to be some sort of recipe spread out through journalling entries. On the second to last page is a single entry, dated some fourteen hundred years ago. The following entry is in a mix of abyssal and common. On the last page is a note written in a totally different hand, dated about six hundred years ago. At a glance it appears to be a translation.

Today I set upon my destiny. No more wishing and wanting, the day of realization is here. I am the herald of the chaos to come. Madness is my pawn and the lands shall be my board. I have spent these many months cajoling and pleading with that grandest of demons, that lord of the unruly. His promises of power have been good. I feel the surge of energy deep in my soul, opening my minds. I commit now to the last wish of my great patron, He Who Shall Rule The Kingdoms. C'thalet the Mad King. I finally have the items to summon him and to pledge to him for this taste of power. It shall be glorious. The Mage Lords will rue the day they shunned me. The name Abbalonian Descargo will echo throughout time immemorial!

That is the last writing in the book. You recall from the catalog that there was no Journal 18 listed.