Arcane Adventures Redux: Adventures in Arcana

[mootoall]

Adventures in Arcana
Chapter 1, Day 1: The Arrival

The Elite Order of Arcanists has a long arm, and it is obvious that that arm has sweeped the countryside, bringing together even more of the promising mature minds of the times. This is obvious when viewing your traveling companions. At the border of Färatur and Merianus, the kingdom you currently are in, you were met with your final courier, a silent man in black, whose handsome face was marred by deep-set eyes and a troubeled look. His communication came solely through hand signals meaning "Time to rest" and "Time to go." The rest of the journey was held in complete silence on his part, a silence you were encouraged to participate in by his glowering, unsettling gaze.

Finally he has brought you to the gate of the Arcanist's Tower, a great, spindly construction of marble and granite, quartz and limestone, sandstone and concrete, and a thousand other construction materials, all blended seemlessly together until the patchwork seems as if it were made of cloth rather than stone. No one moves through the gates, but you can smell cookfires coming from the inside, hear the murmer of raucous younglings and brash arcane chantings, and see lights flickering in every one of the crenellated windows dotting the tower. Beyond the tower, waves crash on the seaside cliff that the tower sits on. You have heard tales of this stronghold being so full of extradimensional space that a well placed Mage's Disjunction might send the tower tumbling if the proper precautions weren't taken.

Your guide pauses before the gate of polished teak, and places his hand on a very large, very visible Arcane Mark on the gateway. No sooner than half a second after this, a wizened yet muscled dwarf appears before you. He turns to the nameless man and signals at him, prompting him to swallow deeply, shudder, and enter the tower through a discretely hidden wicket on the inside of the gate.

The dwarf then turns on you all, and says in a gruff, unfriendly voice,"So. You all must be the new recruits. Seems only right they grab a batch of old ones. Well, I'm Terrance Darkbough, former elf, 'welcoming' you to the Arcane Order. Zyrandian would come to greet you himself, but well, he's got more important things to do." He mumbles under his breath a bit*, then continues.

"You enter this Order as Acolytes, no matter how experienced you are. When we judge your performance acceptable enough, you will move up the ranks. Unfortunately for you, you don't have the clearance to know what those ranks are yet. We run a tight ship around here, and you'd best get to know that now." As he speaks, a pot full of potion comes crashing out a window, smashing on the ground before him. Terrance winces, and glowers at the broken glass. "I'm sure you'll see Gora punished later today."

He concentrates for a moment, then turns back to you. "So, are you all ready to join the fun indoors?"

*DC 20 Listen Check:
You'd think he could spare one blasted Simulacrum to do this thankless task, but no, always with the research ...

[Darklady2831]

Norick Witherbone

Norick was silent for the trip, only speaking when a question was asked of him, and his answers were always short and cryptic. He traveled with a cloaked figure, his skeletal minion, whom he had disguised with padding and a cloak.

As they approached the stronghold, Norick shivered and lifted his head, a grim look set on his face.

As the Dwarf appeared, Norick paused, lifting a hand and signaling for his skeletal minion to halt.

"Former, Elf?" Norick asked, keeping his face concealed. He seemed to sigh lightly and roll his eyes.

Listen Check (Can't possibly succeed xD)

[roll0]


Norick nodded, keeping his head low and under his hood. He barely flinched as the pot slammed into the ground and glass broke across the ground, a smile even flickering onto his face. "As acolytes we enter, as Archmages we leave." He coughed in a poor attempt to conceal his laughter.

[mootoall]

"Indeed. Never die next to a Druid, they're wont to meddle with your composition. You may enter, Dark One. I don't think you'll leave in one piece."

Toraminus
The large gate opens for you, though it is too dark to see inside. Do you enter?

[Darklady2831]

Norick

Norick nods, motioning for his Minion to follow as he stalks into the dark gate...

Norick enters the fortress with his skeletal minion right behind him.

[Feralventas]

Dyssilka's jaw nearly struck the ground upon seeing the amount of effort and artistry that had gone into the Order's establishment. The beautiful mix of materials and meaning were a delightful change from the dreary, dull progression that had brought herself and her fellow travellors here. She rather disreguarded the dwarven greeting in favor of letting her eyes and mind wander the architecture, distracted with a start at the sound of the splattering potion. Jumping aside from any non-existing shrapnel, she pays astute attention to the last few phrases before entering after the other fellow and his associate.


((Listening))
Voluntarially failing the listen check in favor of a Knowledge Architecture and Engineering roll to get an aproximation of how expensive this place was to construct and if there are any particular traits that would stand out about it (bigger on the inside once we've arived there, terraces held up only by magic since there're no visible supports, etc.

[roll0]

[mootoall]

FeralVentas To make mundanely, the tower would require untold amounts of gold pieces, for labour alone. However, this is clearly a magical construction. You gather that it must be bigger on the inside, in order to house all of the people there seem to be inside. Norrick passes through the gate as if it weren't there, but Dyssilka bumps into the wood face first as she tries to get through. "You need my permission to enter the tower," says Terrance.

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana

Enyana, in severe contrast to Norick, has spent most of the journey chatting away to anyone who'll listen. Nothing in particular that's worth mentioning - some theoretical Illusion stuff, perhaps, but nothing particularly important.

On reaching the tower, the little gnome's neck cranes to get a good look at it. She doesn't seem quite as impressed as some of the others - she's seen a few buildings similar to this before. Albeit not quite on this scale...

"Hail, Former Elf," she says, with a bright grin. "I can't imagine why being an elf would suit you, but couldn't you just cast Alter Self?" The little gnome stretches, arms above her head. "Okay, let's do this thing..."

[mootoall]

"I could if I'd not sworn off Transmutation. And I'll be damned if I'd let anyone in there try and alter me again. No one who's available is talented enough, and no one who's talented enough is available. As soon as someone gets their third grade of spells they're off ... But at any rate, you may pass, Trickster." Yuki AkumaThe gate seems to open. Through the arch you see dancing coloured lights so bright that you cannot see past them to the room beyond.

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana

The little gnome shields her eyes from the gate! "Oh wow, I hope this doesn't burn out my eyes or anything..." And in she goes!

[Feralventas]

Raising a hand to comfort her gate-battered nose, Dyssilka takes a few steps back. She seems to hold her hand over her face for a few moments before looking back toward the magical impediment and examinging it a bit more closely. "Aside from that blunder then, what is it that is required of me to enter?" she asks, though not taking her gaze down to the 'elf's level.

Casting Detect Magic cantrip.
[roll0]
And a slight of hand check to avoid being obvious about it

[mootoall]

FeralVentas The tower is so ablaze with magic auras that you cannot differentiate one from another. You quickly lose concentration of the spell, as the brightness nearly blinds you. "Just tell me you're ready to go in. We take that kind of thing very seriously. Then I'll have the gate open for you. And I'd avoid looking directly for magic in there. It'll only lead to trouble." As he speaks, Enyana passes through the door as well, not seeming to even notice the wood.

[zimmerwald1915]

Mirimon had, at first, spent as much time away from Lossë, the cart in which she rode, and the horse that pulled them, as possible. It was his fault that they were now at the mercy of the Order, his actions that had estranged her from her brother, and she needed her space before she would forgive him. He knew she would: if she did not plan to she would not have gone on this grim journey at all. Still, it was far too long, and they had almost reached their destination, before she had finally moved her bedroll next to his under the stars. Until then, Mirimon had spent his time reading his copy of the Phenomenology, or debating the chatty gnome on the role of mind in determining the real. She’d gone around introducing herself the day they’d all met for the journey, but Mirimon had barely used her name, Enyana. More often, he called her Wilyë, which fit in many ways. She had the personality of a fizzy drink, and she had focused on the mind and its insubstantial perceptions. By the time they reached the tower, however, he was walking beside Lossë’s cart, Miruvoro on his shoulder, one hand on the railing and the other swinging free.

Mirimon was not surprised by the Arcanist’s Tower. Alcarohtar had described it in one of his letters, and had even told him how there were no real boundaries between the various building materials. They didn’t even bleed into one another, one material’s grains suspended in a mass of another material, the one thinning out while the other thickened. Rather, there were no boundaries at all: where it seemed there were, one material actually transformed into another and vice versa, the grains ever changing. The description had fascinated Mirimon when he first read it, but seeing it for the first time was truly awesome. His eyes started at the pinnacle and slowly worked their way down, taking in every detail they could. It would be a privilege to study the outside of the tower even if he were not let in.

Miruvoro ruffled his feathers, tickling Mirimon’s ear, and bringing him back to the present. Lossë pulled back on the reins, bringing the cart to a halt. Mirimon looks around but fails to spot their guide: in his place, standing in front of the door, is the very image of a disgruntled dwarf. Mirimon takes his hand from the cart and pats Miruvoro’s wing, remembering a leafy, gently-swaying tree to inspire calm in the raven. Mirimon’s own heart beat quickly before the dwarf even spoke.

*Perception*
[roll0]

"Has Zyrandian sworn off Transmutation as well then?" asked Mirimon. Or is he always this unavailable?" The darkened human, Norick, had already picked up on one of the clues Terrence seemed to drop into his speech; Mirimon felt he should highlight another. While one part of his mind was analyzing Terrence’s spiel, another was feeling disappointed that he would not be meeting Alcarohtar here after all: if he had time to instruct Mirimon in Transmutation by letter, he could not be that unavailable, and from Varno’s description of the mage’s expertise, far greater than Mirimon’s own, he believed him capable. Either he was not here, or there existed a feud between him and Terrence. Mirimon brushed that possibility aside, however. His teacher could not have been so petty.

Mirimon watched impassively as the others tried to make their way through the door, taking note of their actions and Terrence’s responses. "So," he said, after Wilyë entered, "We need your permission to enter, and you will give it when you feel we feel we are ready. I am almost ready, but will not be wholly until I am satisfied on one point." Mirimon stretched out his hand, and supported Lossë’s stepping out of the cart. "This gem of a woman has accepted the journey here without complaint when she could, maybe should, have stayed behind. I’d like to know what provisions have been made for those we bring along. Are those outside the Order kept out, and if so will she have a roof over her head while the rest of us are inside? Or can she come with me if she chooses? Answer, and I will be ready."

"I may not have learned all that you have," says Lossë, curtsying ever so slightly, "or even all that Mirimon and the others here have. But I feel ready to enter your tower." She pulls Mirimon by the hand to stand in front of the door, and he follows, awaiting with curiosity whatever sight had widened the eyes of those who had gone before.

[squeekenator]

Fletcher was also somewhat quiet throughout the journey, though he politely listened to Enyana whenever she felt like talking (something that happened far too often for his liking). The silent guide unsettled him, though he never quite figured out what was so... creepy about the man.

He stands silently for a short time after the dwarf-elf appears, admiring the construction of the tower and showing an expression of minor irritation when the potion smashes on the ground, before speaking.

"Don't have the clearance? I can't even begin to imagine why the mere name of a rank would require special clearance, but if you insist then I shan't press the issue. May I enter?"

Listen check
[roll0]

EDIT: Forgot to add my +3 bonus, so that's a 21.

[Feralventas]

"See, first day here and I'm already learning. Clearly I'm ready to get started," Dyssilka stated as she blinked a few irritated tears away. 'Really, smacked my face on the door and then looked at a magical sun. Maybe I ought to trip myself on the stairs for good measure,' she thought to herself.

"Can I please be let in now?"

[mootoall]

"Ahaha, is Zyrandian always this busy? More like is the sky always blue. Of course he isn't! But the head of this organization has more important things to do even during his days off than I have to do on my busiest morning. I'm lucky when I can get a question across to even one of him! But at any rate, you may take your lady friend with you, and her bravery is uncanny. The gate is open for you, Changer, though you must take extra care to preserve your jewel."

Zimmerwald
The gate seems to open for you, revealing a strobing light which never reveals enough of the room beyond to make out any details.

"As for you, Bringer, you'll find much of our organization shrouded by mystery and unsure courses. It keeps us safer that way. You may pass, though be wary of what you find there. We trade in impermanency as you do."

Squeekenator
The gate seems to open for you, revealing a curtain of foliage so thick that you cannot see the room beyond.

"Hider, you have indeed learned many things today. And you will learn many more. Your passage into the tower is allowed. But just as you may abjure what you don't want others to find, many hidden things lie in the Tower. You may pass. I trust you will enjoy your journey."

FeralVentas
The gate seems to open for you, revealing a rolling mist contained within the tower, so thick as to prevent you from seeing into the room beyond.

[squeekenator]

Fletcher peers through the gate at the strange sight beyond. Curious. Surely this is some sort of test? He walks through.

[zimmerwald1915]

Mirimon once at Terrence's explanation. The now-dwarf had talked earlier of Zyrandian's "simulacra", and now he implied there was more than one of the Order's chief. Mirimon knew the word, and supposed that it was only natural that the chief of the Order knew several methods of appearing in many places at once, either by giving himself many bodies, or his one body many images. Mirimon nodded again at the warning, but did not respond directly to Terrence. Instead, he turned to Lossë.

"You don't know what it means that you're coming with me," he said, taking both her hands, "but our host has good reasons for his words. If I knew they would last, I would enspell you here and now, before we enter, but if this Order does not reveal its structure even to its own members no doubt it wards its doors against magic. So before we enter this room of pulsing light, I need to know I can cast any spell whatsoever on you whenever it is needed. And I need to know that you'll know it's me."

"I'll know. I'll know the spell on me now didn't come from a book. And I trust you. Especially to know when it's you that needs protecting. You're the one they're testing, but you can't do everything."

"I'll stay with her, Luno." The words scraped out of Miruvoro's throat, a mockery of his name, but Mirimon could tell they were truly meant.

"Yes. We shall go." Miruvoro flapped over the Lossë's head and perched on her hair. Mirimon stepped back over to the cart, and exchanged some items in his pack with those from the cart. One packet of rations now lay beside the rest, while Mirimon's Phenomonology sat in his hand. "Please make sure my horse is stabled," he said to Terrence, drawing level with Lossë. She fell into step behind him as they walked through the door.

spellcraft to "identify a spell that’s already in place and in effect," namely the strobing lights.

spellcraft: [roll0]

Ready an action to cast Reduce Person when an attack is launched, on the person, either me or Lossë, against whom the attack, magical or martial in nature, is launched.

[mootoall]

Zimmerwald
You do not recognize the spell at all. Also, you must use a standard action to ready an action. Do you do this after you enter?

Terrance gags slightly at the exchange between Losse and Mirimon, and urges them through the doors faster than the others.

[zimmerwald1915]

Yeah, didn't think I would. I needed a nat seventeen to be sure of identifying it. But using spellcraft that way doesn't use any actions, and it doesn't hurt to try.

As for the readied action, I'm using my standard action to ready, then taking a move action to enter the door. Lossë, of course, still has all her actions available, not that that means much.

[Feralventas]

"I appreciate that you're allowing me through and all, but that looks an awful lot like something that's less a door and more a magical maelstrom waiting to tear me appart, and that would seem unhealthy."

[mootoall]

"You won't be harmed by the entrance, Hider. That I can guarantee you."

[Feralventas]

Her face tenses in a moment of uncertainty, but nods in agreement. She raises her hand up before her, waving befor her while muttering a few arcane words, then steps forward once the gate is ready.

Casting Mage Armor, +4 AC.

[mootoall]

As you step through the door, you feel as if you had lost no momentum at all, despite the time you spent in the room that is no longer there. The eight creatures before you have such eclectic looks that it is almost impossible to describe them as a group. In fact, you can see almost no connection between any of them, besides a bright signet ring that they each wear on their index fingers*.

The one on the furthest left is dressed in simple brown robes. He is a human, with whispy white hair and bright green eyes. He is clean shaven, and he is decidedly overweight, his jowels bouncing as he nods in your direction. His eyes are as deep as pools, and as you meet them, he appears to be looking through you, or as if he were in a distant place.
"Pleasure to meet you, children," he says. "I am Nord, Archdiviner. No need to state your names."

The next appears to be another human, dressed in a bright green cloth suit, which seems to change shades as it shifts position. You find it slightly mesmerizing, as his face is. He is one of the handsomest humans any of you have ever seen, with well-groomed hair and twinkling blue eyes. His svelt figure is almost elf-like, but he is very clearly human.
"Delko Rill, at your service. Master Enchanter. I'm absolutely charmed."

Adjacent to him is a fearsome looking creature. Nearly seven feet tall, its skin appears craggy as a cliff face, and as he shifts his weight you hear a distinct cracking sound, as if stone were grinding with his movements. His eyes are a bright gold, as those of a dragon, but with a glow about them that appear as if they belonged to a celestial being.
"Name is Morinae, Highest Disciple of Transmutation. May your stones remain solid."

The fourth man at first appears to be a child, but upon closer inspection has the proportions of an adult. It is plainly a halfling, with mismatched eyes, one green and one blue. He is dressed in leathers, with a dirk at his side and a smile on his face. He appears pleased by your presence, moreso at least than the others.
"Arillis Destrum, Abjuror in Chief. I hope Terrance didn't nearly scare you off out there, with his talk of secrecy. It's just because he can't keep track of rank names."

The fifth is a stooped old half elf, with enough scars on his face and bare arms that it's almost hard to look at him. He is surrounded by a magical aura so strong, Detect Magicisn't even necessary to see it. Despite his terrible posture, his stance is strong and his muscles obviously toned. He wears a ghi of all white.
"Marenid, Evoker of the Sun, here to welcome you to our fine academy."

Number six is a heavyset gnome, who you almost missed as he stood in the shadow cast by Marenid. His weight belies his dexterity, though, as he moves snakelike into your line of sight. He is wearing all dark colours, with a splash of red over his heart. He is nearly entirely bald, and his eyes dart shiftily as he speaks to you. His tone is friendly, however, as he says "Hope the Council hasn't frightened you away yet. The name's Naerun Vladislav Nuur Calanon Beresti-... The name's Naerun. Nice to see such promising recruits!"

Second to last is a hobgoblin dressed in glowing plate armor, carrying a broad sword on his back. His black eyes are cold and uncaring, though his face has a smile on it. The designs on his armor seem to swirl and move, creating sinister designs.
"James Morroind, Master of Life and Death both. The pleasure is mine even more than the rest."

Finally, at the end of the line, stands an elf dressed in multicoloured robes, with a passive look on his face. His age is impossible to tell, but it is clear that he has many years of experience under his belt. He has long, slicked back black hair, and the sharp, well defined features of an elf.
"My name is Dondarrion, Summoner of Gods. It is a pleasure to meet you all. We are the advising council of the Grand Mage Zyrandian. Together we represent each of the eight schools of magic. It is truly a pleasure to see so many representatives of the different schools present. You will later hear our function and purpose. For now, though, you are welcome to ask any questions you wish to have answered, and from there proceed to be assigned your first task."

*Spot DC 20
The rings depict an open book alight with flames,
DC 25
Which, as you watch, seem to consume the pages and binding of the book, leaving only the letters, surrounded by fire.

[squeekenator]

Fletcher stands even smaller than usual, somewhat in awe of these mighty mages, although in truth he is far more impressed by Dondarrion, a master of the most skillful and worthwhile of all magics. Rather appropriate, then, that the summoner makes the longest and most important speech.

"I have no questions for now. What is your will?"

[mootoall]

Nord seems to speak for the group, as he says "We are here now to answer your questions. Once all of you have none, you will be escourted to your supervisor, Kaladendon, to be debriefed as to your purpose here. He will be the tall one. You will recognize him."

[zimmerwald1915]

Mirimon thought the Highest Disciple’s greeting misguided. Change wast the only constant, things contained within them their foes and opposites and these encountered and molded one another always. Predicting and working for the best changes was better than hoping that they would all be inconsequential. But no doubt Mirimon had much to learn, and it would be wiser to examine Morinae’s statement later in more detail: his own views could contain the master Transmuter’s as their own opposite, and mold each other through blows. Instead, he spoke on a different subject. "I have a question," he said. "Does the Council offer an explanation as to our experiences upon passing the door? Lossë and I dueled shadow-figures much like ourselves. Terrence warned us to be wary, and I can only assume, though I did not have the privilege of watching them, that my comrades each faced some sort of obstacle, though perhaps not of that type. It is possible that we all came through these obstacles unscathed, though if that were true my mind would thrum slightly less with magic, my body would bear scabs and blisters, and Lossë would only now be regaining her vision. It is also possible that the adversities overcame some of us. If that is the case, given that we are all standing here to hear your gracious welcome, what was the purpose?"

It would have been a trivial question to ask how such a trick had been done. Magic, no doubt, played a significant part, and it did not matter what type. No, the question of motive was the important one here. To succumb to the challenge rather than overcoming it was clearly no barrier to entering the Order. Perhaps their methods told the Council (who were no doubt somewhere far removed from this chamber, the men welcoming the Acolytes being Simulacra), and whatever other mages observed the proceedings, something about them as people. If that was the case, what information about Mirimon could they derive, or think they derived, from his having put Lossë and Miruvoro at risk in order to win? True, he had asked her permission first and his spell had hampered their counterparts more than it had them, but even so. It hadn’t been right. Or perhaps it was simply another defense of the door against outsiders, and wasn’t a test of new Acolytes specifically at all. Mirimon had seen it rebuff Veryë when she tried to enter without Terrence’s permission; perhaps any first-time passer-through had to face a challenge, whether he entered by permission or through getting around that particular magic. Or, what was more likely, the true purpose eluded Mirimon’s ponderings completely. That reminded Mirimon…

"If I may beg the Council’s indulgence for one further question, I would like to know if the Order member—I know not his rank, for which I apologize—Alcarohtar Narcelië may be found here."

[mootoall]

Arillis fields Mirimon's question.

"It was a test, to be sure. Though not one of your skills, nor did the outcome matter. It was merely an ... examination. We wished to see how you could overcome challenges. Put it out of your mind, though. It is not consequential, surely. As for Alcarohtar ... Well, he is in the tower, yes. However, finding him may be ... difficult."

"He is inside if you wish to see him though. Somewhere around the 23rd story. His room keeps changing location, you see."

[zimmerwald1915]

"I think I see," said Mirimon. Either the words were meant literally, and the room moved from place to place within the tower, or Alcarohtar moved or was shunted from room to room within the tower. Perhaps both were true. "I will try to find him later, Kaladendon's debriefing and our further instructions permitting. Thank you for the directions. Speaking of rooms, where will we sleep, trance, or meditate, according to our forms and tastes? Lossë and I tire of the ground's hard comfort."

As if in answer, Lossë piped up. "Why is every one of you a man?" The question startled Mirimon, and his eyes went wide. It was probably impertinent, not that he cared, but more importantly it was an obvious fact that had totally passed him by. Now that Mirimon thought about it, Terrence had called Zyrandian "he" too, and was himself male. Mirimon looked over the Wilyë and Veryë. Would they have to change to fit the Order? Would Lossë? Mirimon pulled her closer.

[Yuki Akuma]

The gnome Enyana crosses her arms over her chest. "...That wasn't very nice, you know. You could have at least told us... Do you know how much getting hit by Shadow Spray hurts? My muscles still ache and I don't even think it was real!"

[mootoall]

[/COLOR]
"I think I see," said Mirimon. Either the words were meant literally, and the room moved from place to place within the tower, or Alcarohtar moved or was shunted from room to room within the tower. Perhaps both were true. "I will try to find him later, Kaladendon's debriefing and our further instructions permitting. Thank you for the directions. Speaking of rooms, where will we sleep, trance, or meditate, according to our forms and tastes? Lossë and I tire of the ground's hard comfort."

As if in answer, Lossë piped up. "Why is every one of you a man?" The question startled Mirimon, and his eyes went wide. It was probably impertinent, not that he cared, but more importantly it was an obvious fact that had totally passed him by. Now that Mirimon thought about it, Terrence had called Zyrandian "he" too, and was himself male. Mirimon looked over the Wilyë and Veryë. Would they have to change to fit the Order? Would Lossë? Mirimon pulled her closer.

"Two excellent questions," answers Delko. "You will be provided quarters, though I would recommend keeping your valuables either on your person or out of your rooms. It's unpleasant having to find them once your space has blinked out. And this is the first time in many centuries at least one member of the fairer sex hasn't been represented on the council. We are chosen by Zyrandian himself, and there was quite an uproar about it. But we have been wise in our decisions and council, we think, and not unpopular amongst the Order."


The gnome Enyana crosses her arms over her chest. "...That wasn't very nice, you know. You could have at least told us... Do you know how much getting hit by Shadow Spray hurts? My muscles still ache and I don't even think it was real!"

"If you expect to be warned before every fight you have, it won't be long before I will see you again, little one," says James.

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana frowns. "I don't expect to be warned before every fight, but I do expect to be warned before my so-called 'allies' or 'colleagues' send scary robot duplicates of me." She hmphs and crosses her arms!

It's really more adorable than she intended. Darn gnome-ness.

[mootoall]

Naerun breaks out in huge bouts of laughter for someone his size. "Ahhhh, you knew you were in no danger to begin with. A little splash of real pain once in a while is a good thing. Keeps you in touch with the Prime Material, don't you know."

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana peers Naerun for a moment or two. "...Did you get polymorphed into the wrong body too? Or maybe mages are just weird... I don't know many..."

[mootoall]

"Oh, no no no. Terrance was one of the only unfortunates I know to have that happen to him. Why do you ask?"

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana tilts her head to one side. "Oh. Well... you just act a little different to most kin I know..." She shakes her head. "...I guess it's not important! Um. So... what sort of duties are we expected to perform...?"

[mootoall]

"That will be covered in your debriefing. Suffice it to say, for now at least, that you are expected to travel."

[Feralventas]

Dyssilka sighs, raising her palm forcibly to her forehead with a thud. Shaking her head and attempting to return her pace and presences of mind to a calm demenor. "What can I accomplish here to prevent a similar sequence of events in the future, and how best could our efforts suit your needs? I expect we're not here based on scholerly philanthropy."

[mootoall]

"It is a one time test, I assure you," replies the Conjuror. "And as to how you can serve us ... Well, it's about time you've found out!" At this, he snaps his fingers, and the eight of them disappear in a puff of smoke and a staircase spirals down from the ceiling. Rather than stopping at the ground, though, it continues through the floor, where torchlight dances up from various branching hallways. It must continue downwards for as many stories as it does up, for you do not see an end to the staircase at the bottom.

Descending the staircase is a sprightly young human girl in a white muslin dress, springing down three or four stairs at a time. "Oh!" she says, spotting the five of you. "You're all here! I'm terribly sorry, but Kaladendon is a bit preoccupied at the moment. He's grown, you see, and he's examining the phenomenon. Shouldn't be growing much more. He suspects one of the transmuters is having a go at him, you know. But where are my manners, my name is Oliciana, but you can call me Oli. I'm going to be doing your debriefing. If you'd just follow me, please!" To your surprise, she says all of this during her descent, not stopping at all until she reaches the bottom ... and then keeps descending. It doesn't look like you're going to see the upper rooms of the tower today after all ...

As you follow Oli, you notice the lighting does not change as you go further underground. Rather, between the various dancing lights, light spells, torches and other various glowing apparatuses, the light stays fairly consistently bright, if a bit annoyingly flickery. The spiral staircase is one continuous length, but at every few steps there is either a doorway or a hallway that leads into a room, or another branch of the tower, until you aren't sure exactly how far the tower spreads from its base. It is possible you were walking under it from miles away, even. You catch glimpses through the doors, floor after floor, of interesting, esoteric projects being worked on.

In one room, a portion of a vat of bubbling pitch is drunk by a dwarf who, though he seems sickened by the taste, is satisfied when his colour changes from tan to a dark black. In another, two gnomes argue angrily over an Apparatus of Kwalish that seems to be behaving erratically. You finally stop walking at about 263 steps down, for those of you who've been counting, at one of the hallways.

You continue past about four doorways, until coming to a room labeled "-913," with a small, ensilvered Slaad engraved on it. "Well, here's the briefing room. Are you ready to get started?"


OOC
All conversation you have after now is assumed to be had on the walk down the staircase. You can do reactions, etc. before we get to the actual briefing, if you like.

[zimmerwald1915]

Dondarrion's snap seemed to whisk the Council away in a puff of smoke, and to deposit a spiral staircase in their place. It made Mirimon wonder if the Council had ever been physically present, or the spiral staircase physically absent at all. He had already suspected the Council of being Simulacra of the real councilmembers, wherever they were. Or there might have been some other effect at work. No doubt Mirimon was meant to feel privileged at having been allowed a few moments of a councilmember's simulacrum's time, but instead he felt an odd mixture of curiosity and resignation. On the one hand he felt the true sequence of events was perceptable: on the other he despaired of his own ability to perceive it, now and for the forseeable future. For now the simplest explanation was that the staircase had never been absent, at least.

The girl bounding down it raised new and stranger questions. Mirimon was not old for an elf, and had been thrust out into the world far sooner than he had planned or expected. But this girl was much younger than he, and as far as he could tell relatively younger than any of the Acolytes. And while Alcarohtar had written Mirimon to tell of spells greater by far than any Mirimon had mastered - hampered by working from written instructions instead of guided by a master's presence - this girl clearly possessed great talent and great practice. She was ranked high enough within the Order to replace Kaladendon - or a Simulacrum of his, assuming this wasn't a Simulacrum of hers - in his duty to debrief the Acolytes. Had she shed years, or transferred her soul to this body from her original, or masked her true looks with illusions, or was this indeed her as she was?

From what she said Kaladendon seemed to have changed shape, though her explanation was frustratingly vague. Nord had told them that Kaladendon was abnormally tall already; was he that way naturally or had he or someone else shaped his form with magic? If the latter was true, how could he have been made even larger magically? Such magics usually interfered with one another: Mirimon had once attempted to reduce himself twice, only to have the spell collapse and release enough energy to leave Mirimon reduced, burnt, and bedridden for a week. Lossë and Varno had been so worried. "Is there a hard limit as to how long he'll be so large?" he asked Oli. "From what you've said he sounds more amused and intrigued than worried or concerned. If he could not spare us the courtesy of completing the task which he was assigned, or creating a Simulacrum or similar effect for the purpse as the councilmembers did, I can only assume that he must work quickly analyzing his condition. In any case, it's a pleasure to meet you, Oli."

"How did you assume the duty?" asked Lossë. "Were you simply convenient or did Kaledendon have you planned as a substitute in case something happened?"

As the acolytes descended, Mirimon wondered why the briefing room was so far away from ground level and the tower's center. Surely if the Order wanted to send people on missions they would keep the room from which they were to embark near the exit? Unless they expected the Acolytes to leave via the Astral Plane, or were prepared to help them to do so, it seemed less than well-thought-out. On the way down, Mirimon's attention was grabbed by the pitch-drinking dwarf and the effect the pitch produced upon him. Curious, he flipped through his Phenomenology but found no relevant information. He was too absorbed in the text to look up at the sound of raised, high-pitched voices, and by the time he closed the book the dwarf and his odd drink were almost out of sight. The briefing room was just up ahead. "Yes," said Mirimon to Oli's question. He hoped the debriefing would contain some straightforward information. Even the most mundane routines in the Tower, it seemed, required in-depth analysis to penetrate what was actually going on, and new situations came thick and fast. He could hope for answers, but he did not expect them. More likely there would be even more puzzles waiting behind that frog-faced blazon.

[mootoall]

"Oh, Kali is always growing. It's a bit of a hobby for him. Well, the hobby is measuring, but the growing is the active part. He'll probably only get larger. It's what he does best, after all! He's not nearly talented enough to start making Simulacra, let me tell you. 'Course, neither am I yet, but I'm working towards it! At any rate, we've a full set of redundancies built in to our system of tasking, so one failure or distraction doesn't interrupt us. It's quite useful in such a big place. And that's how I got here meeting all of you!"

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana walks along! "You know, it's sad. I can't work out whether Oli is really this cute, or if it's some sort of illusion to make us all feel at ease..." She doesn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular.

[mootoall]

"Oh, I am as real as you! But thank you for calling me cute. It's really a nice complement from you!" Gonna enter the briefing room when I get home this evening, so get any other questions/interactions out ASAP!

[zimmerwald1915]

"That's a relief," said Mirimon, putting his book away. "I was beginning to think that everyone we would meet here would be some magically-created duplicate.". The possibility was still open that the Oli they saw was some kind of duplicate other than a Simulacrum: she had left that possibility open. Even her claim to Wilye of her reality was evasive, depending on how real Wilye was, or how real Oli believed her to be. As valuable as getting a straight answer could be, however, Mirimon felt that training himself to examine the possibile truths could be more valuable here. Still, there was at least one practical matter about which the Acolytes might learn. "Will we learn about the redundencies in our briefing, Oli?". No doubt that Acolytes wouldn't be integrated into the larger tasks, but a system like that required many bodies, apparently more than magical duplication could easily or quickly provide.

[mootoall]

"Oh, the redundancies aren't really covered. They're just ... a fact. If someone cannot complete a task, their backup is sent. It just ... is."

[zimmerwald1915]

That was odd. Oli, according to her story, had been designated as a replacement. Not beforehand, but as she was needed. But her explanation used frustratingly vague. "But surely you can remember who sent you, and how. It had to have happened not long ago, between Nord's telling us we'd be briefed by Kaladendon and your arrival. Did you hear a voice in your head or see an image before you that could be recognized? Or did you just...know?"

[mootoall]

"Oh, of course I do. Once Kali decided he wouldn't come, his immediate supervisor, who also happens to be mine, assigned me to this task, and then another one of his underlings to mine, and it eventually goes full circle! It's a bit chaotic, but it's got a sort of subtle efficiency to it. Everything we want to get done gets done around here."*

Opening the door, you find yourself in a very spacious room, with plenty of space where there is just ... nothing. The only fixtures are five beds arranged in a nearly symmetrical fashion, and a large mirror on one wall. "These will be your quarters while you stay here. If you ever need to leave in a hurry, just tell the mirror. In fact, if you ever really need anything, just tell the mirror. We'll get it to you as soon as possible. But you can do your decorating later. I've got some explaining to do!"

Oli takes a seat on the nearest bed, then pulls a scroll from the front of her dress, and starts reading off of it.

"Welcome to this most Elite Order of Arcanists. We have taken strong interest in your rudimentary magical skill, and have decided that you are now talented enough to join us in our struggle. This struggle is not one that is publicly known, for it pits the world's great powers against each other.

The balance of the world is shifting. Whereas the diffusion of magic in the world was once equal, with representation from both the Order and the Archdiocese of the Unified Pantheons being present throughout the world. However, lately it has come to our attention that our agents have been going missing in the South.

Divinations have revealed some information, but only for brief glimpses at a time. For this reason, we fear that there may be some even more powerful force at work than even Nord's powers can identify. Extra-planar contacts have been as frustratingly vague as our own divinations. Currently, through one project or another, the entire force of the Order is at work to discover the source of this problem, and you are the newest addition.

While some of our most powerful agents have moved to the South, the Order still requires its representatives in the North. You will recieve assignments from the Order as the need for them appears. Your first mission will begin tomorrow, as soon as you are ready. There have been reports of disruptive happenings in the town of Chainwraith, to the North-West. You will leave by mirror tomorrow to be teleported there by Kaladendon, and get further details."

She puts the scroll down on one of the beds and yawns loudly. "Boy that was a long read. Anyway, travel by mirror is easy, but something you'll need explained to you. Come, follow me."

She leads you to the large mirror on the far wall. Five feet tall, the mirror has ornate designs on it, and at the top there are three inch-long orbs, each coloured differently. "The blue orb's for contacting another member of the Order. Just think their name after you press it, they'll get the message. The green orb is for transport. Again, think of the place you want to be, or the person you want to see, and just walk through. You'll get out at the closest mirror. The red orb ... well, don't press that except in an emergency."

At this, she decides to demonstrate, by pressing the green orb and, with a brief "Good bye!", she leaves you.

*It is at this point you reach the door.

[zimmerwald1915]

"Well," says Mirimon, going to stand by the foot of one of the beds, "That was an eye-opener." Lossë sat next to him, on the foot of the bed. "Apparently the Order uses their presence in places to measure the very magical content of parts of the world. Well, theirs and this Archdiosces, which I've never heard of, despite my kin's long attempts to mold me into a servant of Vandria. Lossë, has your brother mentioned any such thing to you?" The woman's head moved from left to right, and her eyes said "no". "As for this imbalance, and our mission, I'd like to hear what you think. Has anyone been to Chainwraith before, or heard of the place? I know I haven't. Speaking of which!" Mirimon raises his eyes towards the ceiling for a moment. "We don't know each other that well, do we? We could get away with hardly speaking on the road, but that can hardly continue if we're going to be sent on missions together."

"Luno and I met in Vandria's temple in Baradden," says Lossë, standing up from the bed. "I had followed my brother when he took a position there. We were married only a few months before coming here."

"Her brother and I did not get along, you see," explained Mirimon. "He didn't like that I cared more for knowing and changing the world than for the mysteries of his goddess. When he found out, he had me excommunicated and expelled from Baradden. The Order recruited me from this desperate state, and Lossë - Eruntalë if you want to be formal - chose to stay together.

"That's enough about me." said Mirimon. The rest they could deduce from his comments to Terrence and to the Council. They were smart enough. "Once we're all properly introduced, we should get a list together of what we'll need to make this place livable and present it to the mirror all at once. Nothing fancy, things tend to blink out after all, and we are leaving tomorrow, but things like bookcases for our spell and other books, wardrobes for our clothes and travelling gear. Maybe we could share one large bookshelf and wardrobe. Some kind of water basin would probably help. And I've tired of my Phenomenology, having nothing else to read over the journey here. Maybe some material on the history and structure of the Order - and its Archdioces counterpart - and on Chainwraith?"

"Can you get a perch for me?" said Miruvoro. "I can't crouch on your shoulder when you're lying down."

"And see if they can give us something that can silence a small area," said Lossë, quietly, but pointedly.

[Feralventas]

"I suppose I'm willing to be forward if you are."

"I approached the Order with the intent of using their resources and working as a scholar or scribe while studying some of their more mundane knowledge, sciences and the like. Turns out I'm good enough with actual spellcraft and terrible with record keeping that they would rather have me learning magic, and I found that agreeable enough. Haven't been to Chainwraith myself, though it sounds like a place I'm glad not to have been to."

Dyssilka shrugs, finishing her statement by a gesture and proceeding to reach into her pack and pull out a trail-rationed piece of sweatbread that had all the appeal of something meant to last four months in a desert before use.

"Next?", she asks, gesturing onward as she moves to set herself down on one of the vacant beds.

[squeekenator]

Fletcher sighs inwardly. The chatter was bearable with just Enyana around, but two like her in the same room? Still, he keeps a polite and interested expression, paying just enough attention to Oli's words to pick up the important details. As he steps into the room, an enormous black-and-white dog with several bags strapped to its back trots in behind. Titan had been investigating some interesting smells on the wall while the boring magic-talk happened. He gives Fletcher a familiar look, and the gnome reaches up to the dog's ears to scratch them while he talks. "I've never heard of Chainwraith either, I've spent most of my life in two small towns, fairly isolated from the rest of the world. Studying the arcane arts was always more important to me than anything else." A somewhat sad look appears on his face for a moment, but quickly vanishes.

"My name is Titan" is the only introduction the dog gives, and he flops down onto a bed. Fletcher is used to the strange sight of Common coming from a dog's mouth, but he recalls how odd it used to seem. He walks over to the bed and begins to unpack his things from the bags Titan wears.

[zimmerwald1915]

"Well, Veryë," said Mirimon, looking straight at Dyssilka so that there could be no mistaking who he was talking to, "From your story it doesn't sound like you need me to be forward! I wouldn't have approached the Order if my teacher hadn't invited me." He smiles, hoping she would take that, and the name, as a compliment. "Veryë" could mean feckless or rash as well as bold or forward, and from her performance at the gate those were accurate as well, but he did mean the compliment.

"Chainwraith doesn't sound too terrible, aside from the foreboding name," said Lossë, looking at Mirimon. It sounded like she wanted the subject changed. Probably to stop him from explaining the thoughts he had just had. She was right, he probably would have. He squeezed her shoulder in thanks. "Miss Oliciana implied that whatever we're to investigate is out of the ordinary. And any place plagued by regular 'disruptive happenings' would hardly have grown a community."

"All the more reason to learn as much as we can before going there," agreed Mirimon. "If Oli's speech, not to mention that session with the Council or whatever it was, is any indication, we'll be better off relying on whatever research we can do than what we're told." Mirimon walked across the room to stand by the mirror, as if to emphasize that despite Oli's explanation, they still did not really know how the thing worked.

As Mirimon walked, Miruvoro launched himself off his shoulder and glided over to the bed Fletcher had claimed. He stooped over one of the bags, and perched on top of it, digging his claws into the fabric to compensate for it not being a thin branch on which he could perch. "Do you want a bed for yourself, Titan?" he says. Mirimon could feel the raven's curiosity about another talking animal, and also longing. Though Mirimon treated him like a member of their little family, and though they could not help but share their emotions intimately, Miruvoro was nontheless bound to him. Titan seemed freer. Mirimon could feel Miruvoro's confusion as he searched for how to describe the dog's relationship to the gnome outside of master and servant. It made Mirimon think about what he had come here for. Not just to learn the mysteries of the Order, but also the forces that governed social life. Would there be time?

[mootoall]

Norrik pulls his hood down as you settle into the room, revealing a large scar covering a good half of his face. It twists in a sinister smile as he says"When the Order called me, it was hard to resist. Become a member of a vast, secretive, world spanning order of mages? What else could I say? Not to mention being here may be just the thing to give me the information I need. And the resources to do something about it. There are people who have wronged me, just as I am sure there are those who have wronged you."

[squeekenator]

Titan gives the bird a curious look, before placing it firmly within his 'do not eat' category. If eating pets is unacceptable, then eating talking pets must be doubly so. Satisfied with his decision, he answers its question. "This is my bed. If Fletcher wants his own then he can get it himself." The gnome smiles at this and shakes his head. "I've never met a blanket quite so warm and comfortable as you, Titan." He then turns to Mirimon. "I agree that we should get as much research done as we can in whatever time we have." He walks over to the mirror. "I suppose we should become acquainted with this, since it seems we'll be using it often." Fletcher touches the mirror and thinks 'library', then hesitantly tries to walk through.

[mootoall]

As Fletchers thoughts focus on the tower library, the mirror turns an opaque green which starts to swirl with darker colours, until it forms a perfectly symmetrical spiral. As Fletcher steps through, he appears to become spaghettified to everyone in the room.

To whomever passes through the portal
You feel yourself being pulled through the mirror by whatever limb entered it first, gently stretched, and then in a flash of green light you pop out of the other side, with vague images of people and rooms still passing in front of your eyes. When you recover from this unexpected jaunt, as you are used to teleportation being instantaneous, you find you have passed through the portal with seemingly no lost momentum from your entrance. However, you are in a bit of a predicament-You found your way into the library, but the mirror isn't situated near any visible entrance. The shelves alone are all over fifty feet high, and each book-case stretches for hundreds of feet. It'll take a while to find the entrance and ask for help obtaining information, but it would probably be easier than finding it through the tower ... And besides, there's nothing stopping you from looking through books on your way there!

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana holds her arms behind her head, looking around the room. Her nose wrinkles a bit. "...How boring. They could at least put up a tapestry or something..."

As people begin to divulge character backgrounds, she grins and shrugs. "I got scouted from a college. Nothing too unique. THey said I had an 'interesting instinctive grasp of the magics of the Plane of Shadow', but I don't have any idea what that's meant to mean." Shrug!

[zimmerwald1915]

Mirimon smiles wolfishly. "If your magic involves the Plane of Shadow, then it does on some level manipulate something real and physical, and not just the mind. If, as I said before, such a thing can be separated out from the brain--"* Mirimon was so caught up in scoring debating points, however, that he did not notice Fletcher reach up to the green gem, and could only let out a surprised yelp before he was gone!

Miruvoro, jarred by Mirimon's surprise, squacked, took off, and flapped over to his shoulder. "I don't suppose there's a way to track where someone went on this thing?" Mirimon says, turning to the mirror and running his hands over it. Thinking out loud, he continues, "We were talking of research, so he probably went to the library, but the library could have many mirrors, or be decentralized." Mirimon turns his back to the mirror. "Just so we don't get separated, whoever's going through the mirror now should probably think and picture 'Fletcher' so they end up near him. Lossë, are you coming?"

"I think not," she says. "If you will be gone long the room will be left quiet for a trance, and if you are not then it doesn't matter. Tell me if you find anything interesting."

Mirimon nods and smiles. "I will. Maybe they'll loan out a copy." He turns once again to the mirror, lays two fingertips on the green gem, and thinks 'Fletcher Underbough'

@ Squeekenator, Mootoall:
Mirimon strides serenely through the portal, and keeps walking until he's about ten feet away from it. He looks around. "Do we know where we are? And how to get from here to wherever we can find information on Chainwraith?" He goes to one of the shelves and tries to read the titles off the bindings, to get an idea of what information they contain.

Miruvoro pecks at Mirimon's pack, looking for all the world like he has a nervous tic. "Not yet," he says to the raven, patting his wings. Mirimon turns to Fletcher. "I'm sorry, he knows I have a scroll that will let one of us absorb as much as three books' worth of information in seconds. But we should use it for the research we need to do." He seems to say this last part to himself, reminding himself that they had a job to do. Mirimon knew he could spend hours, days here, if there wasn't a reason not to.

*OOC:
I'm alluding here to conversations had previously on the road.

[mootoall]

The mirror reacts similarly to Mirimon as it did to Fletcher, and he also steps through without issue.

[Feralventas]

"They've only just arrived here and they're already getting up and about again? Ugh."

Dyssilka shakes her head, finishing off her snack and looking around at her still present companions. "I can appreciate magic as well as the next spell-slinger, but it's something to enjoy, not get bogged down in books over."

"Still though, you make a good point, Losse," she says as she scoots back and rests her head on her hands. "Here's to hope that the folks running this place don't have a habit of testing us in our sleep too."

[Yuki Akuma]

Enya follows the others through the mirror! She doesn't want to get left behind!

[squeekenator]

After recovering from the rather unusual teleportation, Fletcher looks around, wide-eyed with wonder. This place was more than just a library - a towering maze of books surrounded him. He could get lost forever in this place - not that he would be trying to find his way out of a treasure trove of knowledge such as this. Still, he probably should at least find the way out. He does have an obligation of some sort to the town of Chainwraith. He picks up an interesting-looking book and responds to Mirimon while reading. "It would take some time to find information on Chainwraith here. I think we should try to locate someone who knows their way around, rather than looking ourselves."

[mootoall]

@Library folk!

DC 15 Int Check:
The books are all written in strange languages, some of which you recognize, but the only unifying topic is they all have to do with the planes, specifically planar travel.
[roll0]

Edit: @FeralVentas

Nearly as soon as Enyana steps through the mirror, and just as you settle down to sleep, three of these (http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/MM35_gallery/MM35_PG154.jpg) fly through the door to your room, chittering loudly, and carrying a single small bag each. They speak in chorus, but in a very chaotic fashion, each using different words to say, essentially, "Hello! We are your decoration committee! All newcomers meet us, please tell us how you want to decorate your room!"

[Feralventas]

Dyssilka blinks several times, assuring herself that the small, rambunctious creatures were, in fact, asking her for interior decorating decisions.

"...Let's see...."

Taking a glance around the room and attempting to make sense of what was currently available, while taking into account the capabilities of the artistic assistance she had available, Dyssilka quickly drew up a series of possible styles, themes, and designs that might work well for the spaces as they were.

"Let's have a uniform colour scheme please, don't want it too earthy, but if we make it too abstract it'll just wind up looking awful or pretentious. I'm thinking a set of mirrors in addition to the one we have; that one will be central of course, but there's plenty of room for a few more to brighten the place up. Nothing too big of course; don't want to intrude on each other too much."

"The beds are probably too big to replace outright, but I'd think that the sheets and spreads should be fairly easy to replace with some blue/grey ones, or else transmute the existing ones. After that, let's add some pillows, shall we? I'm thinking a color motif for each of the occupants, Fushia for my own of course, but Crimson on one for Mirimon, then a dark blue for gloomy Norrick. Something bright would probably fit Enyana better, though I think she'll like a moderate purple and we'll finish off Fletcher with a sandy coloured shade.

"Now then, I want to see about some drapes over each of these; if we're sharing the room a while we ought to be able to have our own privacy too....Wait! Never mind the drapes, arange for partitions between the beds; not so long that they go past the foot of the bed, but enough to make it so that we have to go around to see each other. Let's also look into dressors or cabinets that we can use for our belongings, perhaps some candle-holders for illumination, though if you could arange for some permanent light tokens, that would probably be preferable. Damnit I knew I should have learned to paint when I had the chance back then. Whatever, if you can do so without obsconding with them from someone else's placement or use, see about bringing in a few paintings or statues; somethings to work toward filling in the gaps and adding a bit of flavor beyond simple colour."

"Hmmm...what am I forgetting....RIGHT! We won't necesarilly be just sleeping here. Bring in a few extra chairs, perhaps a small table or desk that we can put to use...."

"Wind-chimes, preferably all the same type. No, not preferably, absolutely the same type. Several of them, hung so that they're at head level but to the side and away from the main pathways. My head-level mind you, else we might be tripping over them.....

[Yuki Akuma]

Enyana... cannot make sense of these books at all! Planar mechanics have never been her strong point.

[mootoall]

@FeralVentas:
The three creatures pipe up. "Well, we've considered your input ..." "And we just must say ..." "Your suggestions are just what we like!"

They then proceed to reach into their bags, and each pulls out a rod about the size of their bodies. The first points at the walls and presses a button, sending out blots of coloured paint matching your descriptions at each section of the room. Unfortunately, they do this spraying rather ... haphazardly. Within just a few seconds, not much is left unsplattered in perfectly colour coordinated paint ... including yourself, Norrick and Losse.

As that little gremlin makes its mess, the second uses its rod to conjure the items you requested. Seven chairs and a round table, all fit for use by an average sized human, spring into being in the middle of the floor. With another press of the button, dangling wind chimes clamor into being, five sets, one for each bed, making as much noise as possible for their size. Finally, the dividers you requested appear in a puff of smoke, each extending as far as you asked, but of varying heights, so that there is no guarantee that they provide complete concealment.

The third removes a rod, pushes a button, and shrieks as he, and the rest of the room, is filled with butterflies. He quickly flies about the room, collecting them, and tosses the rod over his shoulder, muttering "Oooh, not that one ..." He then removes a second rod, and, pushing the proper button this time, conjours up exactly what you asked for- tokens glowing with bright light, which he attaches to the ceiling. "The command word to turn them off it 'Lights Out.' We like to keep it simple."

[zimmerwald1915]

Squeeky, Yuki, Moo
"Most of these I cannot read," said Mirimon with tight lips. As he continues he almost seems to spit his words. "I recognize the tongue of the heavens on many spines, but I cannot read the words. There are many others whose scripts are wholly unfamiliar to me. " He takes a few steps and reaches up high for a large book with golden cover clasps, then, with that tucked under his arm, he pulls out a second book whose cracked spine reveals much use. He opens the first one to a page somewhere in the middle. "This one, however, says it was penned by the green dragon Grovixepsek, and theirs is a tongue I do know. It talks about how she was able to travel instantaneously from one spot on this plane to another through a transitory plane. It says here that the facing page, and the four after that, show how she did so, but I’m afraid it’s much to complex for me to follow. Besides, it has nothing to do with what we are looking for, though its study might help explain how the mirror works." Mirimon closes this book, and opens the second. Dust falls out of the spine as the two edges of the crack are rubbed together.

"This one, it says, was written by elven planeswalker Tradul Kethvan, who describes what looks like even more complex magic. He says he was able to not only use the planes for travel, but to place his body on them and exist there as he would here. To live, and eat, and talk with the denizens of each world, and sometimes to fight them. He gives no instructions, and it would seem his adventures are even less immediately useful, though they might make a good story." Mirimon’s eyes scan the shelves for further bits of text he would recognize. He spots two.

"Poldo, could you please pass the book bound in white silk by your waist," he says to Fletcher, "And Wilyë, could I see that book with the inkstain by your feet?" Mirimon has difficulty holding on to the four books, and balancing them all as he opens Fletcher’s. "It looks like this one was written by the dark elf summoner Lorulm Menvis Su'aco Taur, who speaks of forcing other creatures, from other planes, into this one. Likely he and Tradul treated with many similar creatures, or even the same one, given how long denizens of other planes may live." There is some difficulty as Mirimon slides this book under the whole stack to make room for the one Enyanna gave him. "Finally, we have what looks like a treatise on calling not creatures, but material, from the Plane of Shadow, written by gnome shadowshaper Segbaera Uranna Pinchikal…well, let’s just say I could go on. You might want to hold on to that one, Wilyë," he says. "though it looked like the most complex of the lot. It seems that each of these texts deals with some form of planar travel, and I suspect that this whole section is devoted to such travel.

"Ironically, knowing what this section holds does not help us travel to our destination within the library. Traveler’s tales, histories, or atlases could be anywhere in relation to here. Poldo, why the mirror transported you here instead of somewhere more central is beyond me. I suppose there’s always the direct approach…" Mirimon takes a deep breath.

"Hel—!" he says, raising his voice as if to project it down the corridors of books. Miruvoro cuts him off, however, by nipping him on the ear. "Ow!" says Mirimon, more in surprise than in pain, his voice down to its normal volume. "You and your friends might not be able to see above the bookshelves," explains the raven, "but I can." At that he takes off, beating his wings to climb towards the ceiling.[/color]

Ventas, Darklord, Moo
Lossë closes her eyes and stands still as she is splattered with paint, a stoic expression on her face and a tightness in the corners of her mouth. After the clattering and banging comes to a halt, she opens them and surveys the scene. "I believe my friend Dyssilka requested a wardrobe or dresser for each of us," she says, not seeing any. "Apart from that," she continues, "I feel compelled to commend your good taste, and hers. I have a few small requests to make, now that the broad strokes are in place.

"The first two are for everybody. If we’re to live here for any time, we shouldn’t have to eat out of bags. An extra cabinet where we can store food would be helpful. We also need a place to wash, and to draw water. Each of us should get a basin, and there should be at least one water source, whether pumped from somewhere or generated however the people here have managed to figure out, whose flow we can control.

"These are specifically for Mirimon and myself. My husband’s familiar," she says the word strangely, as if she doesn’t like the concept, [b]"requires a perch, and we ourselves require a little more privacy. If there is a way to make sure no sound can escape from the area between our partitions, I would appreciate your transporting it here. If it is not currently in someone else’s possession of course."[b]

[mootoall]

Library
Zimmerwald
Miruvoro sees that the library stretches on for what seems like for thousands of feet in any direction, with shelves lining every wall, and that the library really does appear to be maze-like in nature. He can, however, see what appears to be a small circulating desk just a few hundred feet away- as the raven flies, that is.

After the raven takes off, five books float off the shelves near you, float to the ceiling, and zoom off towards the same direction that Miruvoru is looking.

Room
"Cabinets! How could we forget them?" In short time, the creatures have conjured up wardrobes for everyone, though their sizes might seem ... a bit off. There are two sized for what look like normal humans, two for shorter creatures, and then one that is ... decidedly larger. At least ten feet tall, this one sits by Dyssilka's bed, and nearly scrapes the ceiling. "As for items of silence ... Well ..." the creatures seem to huddle together, then after breaking it, come up with a small, disk-shaped object. "Best we can do under the circumstances, m'lady. It should cover about the size of a bed ... just barely. Modified off a Silent Portal Disk, but we don't think it's ... quite as reliable. But no worries! We're sure it'll work just fine!"

[zimmerwald1915]

Squeeky, Yuki, Moo
Miruvoro sees that the library stretches on for what seems like for thousands of feet in any direction, with shelves lining every wall, and that the library really does appear to be maze-like in nature. He can, however, see what appears to be a small circulating desk just a few hundred feet away- as the raven flies, that is.

After the raven takes off, five books float off the shelves near you, float to the ceiling, and zoom off towards the same direction that Miruvoro is looking.

The raven squawks as the books go shooting past it, banks into a turn, and dives. He manages to stoop only a few feet above the ground, and to land in a heap. Mirimon runs to him, and makes it just as Miruvoro is picking himself up and straightening his feathers. He can feel Miruvoro's shock, but no pain, and he knows that the raven will sense his own concern, so he asks "What did you see?"[/darkred]

Miruvoro takes off again, circles around Mirimon's head, and settles back onto his shoulder. [color="darkred"]"There's a circulating desk a little way that way," he says, pointing his wing towards the shelf. "Where those books flew off to. I think I can guide you there from down here, but may have to fly up again to see if I'm doing it right."

"Be careful," said Mirimon.

"Don't worry." At that, Mirimon began walking down the corridor, Miruvoro pointing the way.

Moo
Survival if needed
Mirimon's: [roll0]
Miruvoro's: [roll1]

Ventas, Darklord, Moo
"Thank you," says Lossë, tucking the disk into the pillowcase on her bed. She then walks to her wardrobe, her eyes lowered to the floor, and opens it to see what's inside, if anything. "Fletcher," she says, still looking into the cabinet, "What about that colossus by your bed? It might have something interesting in it."

[Feralventas]

Dyssilka took a look at herself in one of the available mirrors, decided that the splattered look just wouldn't work well for anything slightly dignified and proceeded to invoke a little arcane power to arange it in a more sightly manner, redistributing the paint as a solid, uniform shade over her robes. "I'm glad you like it," she said, responding to both comments. Taking a few moments to look at the humonculii's work, she nods in approval before making her way to examine the cabinet in her associated space.