Shade Part 6

Durrankar is swishing his tail behind him. Astaren has really just mirrored his own sentiments at the moment.

Kerbasi sets himself onto one of the tables as the others talk. In the meantime, the young priest takes out the tin again, and takes a cookie from it. He munches, chewing away at the sugar cookie. "...hope I brought enough food," he's overheard to say. There are crumbs on his cassock.

"Did you say 'food'?" the halfling's eyes light up. "I've been subsisting on a regiment of... not-food. Well, it's food but it barely qualifies for much of the time. Please, what /did/ you bring?" Then he realizes the cookie. A hand is held up to AStaren. He'll answer, thqat hand says, but /cookie/ is taking priority.

Stirling mostly keeps silent as the others talk until he has quite enough of it. "Look, your in a tight spot and you can choose to trust or not but I am going out on a limb guessing that you cannot stay here forever. I am also guessing we are your best option in quite a while and likely anytime soon. If it makes you feel better I am Stirling Ironheel, my father was Gregor Ironheel, his father Daedred Ironheel and his father Theodore Ironheel. I am a high artificer at the artificers guild in Alexandria and devotee to Serriel, the godess of my the peoples of Blar. I would like nothing more than to preserve and save what you have here." he says in the closest attempt to honestly. If that is not enough than I cannot anything else.

"Heh. Well..." Kerbasi reaches in to his pocket, and fishes around for a moment or two. Not so long though, not so long as one might expect, and he pulls out a bundt cake on a small tray. It's covered in sugar-icing, and he sits this on the table. Reaches up, covers a burp with his other hand. "If th' wizard has tea, I've got some cake t' go with it," he offers.

Kravar turns his eyes towards Stirling as the artificer exlains his family line. He never would have guesses the Arvek comes from...wait, what does all that mean? Kravar shakes his head and then looks at the Lucht. "I have some field rations as well," he offers. "Not much better than whatever it is you've been surviving on, but perhaps it will help you regain your strength." He hesitates. Regain it for what, he wonders. The good librarian never answered Astaren's challenge.

"I'm a priest," Kerbasi offers, as the platter gets set down. "But unless you're dead, I'm not much help. I host an absolutely killer funeral, though. Cake?" he asks, with some cheer. The young priest sits there on the table, by all accounts comfortable.

"Well, come on, now," says the Lucht. "The dead are everywhere around here."

His eyes turn now towards Astaren. "I forgive your skepticism, of course! In your shoes, I'd be in much the same position! I do not know that you are who you say you are anymore than you me! But we've been alone for some time now and that's, mmmn...."

"And we're not!" Kisa pipes up from... elsewhere where she had found a book with rather nicely drawn picture of clothing from about four hundred years ago. Then she looks back down into the book, flips the page and giggles, "Oh God... they wore corsets back then? Heathens... might as well wear a bustle with it."

"Dead that is!" Kisa adds, "We're not dead!"

"A show of trust in new situations often must go both ways. bit by bit trust can be built." Astaren offers as he sets down his empty tea cup, "There is work to be done, so lead the way. The more we know, the more we can glean from each other." standing up as he glances to the books and glances back to Kisaiya, blinks at at hera nd then over towards Lucht, "Shall we?"

"Heh. I do marriages, too," Kerbasi says equably, as he cuts a slice of cake. He sets the rest of the cake aside--towards himself--and moves the slice to the right--towards the lucht. "Could marry you two off," he says, gesturing between the lucht and Astaren, "It would solve a number of th' trust issues I imagine, stop us talkin' in circles, I mean. We're on a bit of a deadline, here. The two of you probably enjoy books just as much as th' other, so that's somethin you'd have in common already. We really don't have time for this back an' forth I'm afraid, if we want t'save both you an' the knowedge here. A ceremony'd take less time." To Astaren, "If it would help you an' yer goddess t' preserve knowledge, by th' performin of this act, I am willin' to officiate."

Kravar smirks briefly. But the priest does make a valid point. "We should make plans to leave. We can turn to mist and fly," he gestures at the party. "Once we get far enough from Krilzor, perhaps to the border of Dragonier, we can ride on our Airship the rest of the way." He looks at the Lucht then back in the direction of the floating books. "Do we have to carry you?"

Durrankar says, "Yessss....if the wraiths outside detect ussss....there will be more deaths.....""

Astaren glances to Kerbasi, his eyebrows raising, "As I am sure I could officiate between you and lady Impatience." winking over to Kerbsai with a smile, "But your humor is a good ice breaker is it not." there is even humor in his voice, "A tour, give us some baswe line of what we are needing to save, and a chance to talk more. As my friend here said, time is not a commodity."

Stirling holds up a finger as Kravar speaks "Is that all its going to take though to remove the useful parts of the library? We want to save as much as possible. What do we save and what do we leave?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and glance to the talking books.

"...yeeeees, back when the city fell. Before the Shade fell. First, the people tried to escape. Those that could, did. But it wasn't long before the airships were struck down, leaving precious few survivors who escaped all together and many of us trapped here. Those that were tried to defend themselves. Eventually, they collapsed towards the city center. They made their last stand /here/."

He closes his eyes. "So many fell."

"A good marriage is a good partnership, renderin' you both owners an' caretakers of th' library." Kerbasi removes his glasses as he continues in that classic pose. And he winks, then. It doesn't mean the rest of the cake isn't *right next to him,* though. And then the lucht starts to talk and he looks back. His expression changes, becoming sorrowful, and he makes the Scales of the Lady in the air in front of him.

"Lady impatience...? I didn't know you were engaged to someone!" She glances over to Kerbasi and grins, "That's wonderful! You and this lady can get married at the same time as Astaren and our new friend. OO! Maybe we can get Serra and I can marry her at it too! It would save alot of money." Kisa flips the page, snickering at the next bit of old fashion. "Weddings are way too expensive these days. Ohhh silly skirts with bustles, how did you ever be a thing?"

Durrankar says, "Would not know, Kisaiya. but for now...we should think more of the task at hand....like getting these people out of here." Apaprently, he is calling the books 'people' now."

"A priest like m'self is engaged to his goddess. ...especially one as lovely as mine. ..." Mourner d'Bahjat looks as though he might sigh at the thought of Vardama's sexy, corpse-like legs. Or compose poetry. "But w'could have a symbolic marriage, I suppose," he says, sounding cautiously enthused. Uh. Oh. And he focuses on the lucht and his tragedy, and gives the man his full attention. After a moment, his is the most sympathetic of faces, the most sorrowful.

Astaren shakes his head, "I will have to ask my master, High Priestess Verma, if this is normal behavior for a mourner." shrugging his shoulders as he goes back to listening to Lucht.

Stirling looks at Kerbasy and Astaren "Right, shall we take inventory of what we need to take and work out the logistics? Also who are watching the entrances to this place?" the last question is directed at the halfling. "Seems barriers are weakening and perhaps your defences are too."

Kravar nods in agreement with Stirling. But then he adds, "First we need an escape plan. If one of us sounds the alarm," he drops a hand to his swordbelt and pats a horn slung there like any other weapon, "We should all meet at the top floor. At all times one of us who can fly without turning to mist, must stay close to the librarian and his friends..."

"...heh. Any chance w'could get ourselves out, an' a pile or two, before th' undead dragons make their way in?" Kerbasi asks. The cake-without-its-slice is gone now. To the lucht, "We'd like t'get you out of here as soon as we can. If you have ideas, or if there's somethin' we haven't thought of, I'd personally appreciate yer imput."

"I... Don't want my wedding at a grave site." Kisa says to Kerbasi with a frown as she looks up from her book. Then she looks back down to it, another flip of the page, "Hee. Who in the world would wear slippers like that? Gods that would be uncomfortable!"

Kerbasi looks confused at this. Obv.

Kravar rolls his eyes. How can Kerbasi claim to be such an authority on interfaith weddings when clearly he knows nothing of the fashions of the time. Why, he probably doesn't even own a toga! But all Kravar says aloud is, "I'll keep watch. From the highest point I can find. I'll sound an alarm if something happens. The rest of you can sort out which books and scrolls to preserve. Remember, someone who can fly stay near our new friend." He pulls out his spyglass, changes his cloak into wings and then flies up for a window.

"Well, then. I don't know what brought you here, really," says the Lucht, stroking his fingers through his matted brown hair. Did we forget to mention he smells a bit? /You/ try going without a proper bath for a decade!

He puts his hands together in front of him., "So, you want to evacuate the library. Okay. You want to take the books! Okay! We can take them... somewhere? Do you suppose we'll meet any undead dragons on the way out?"

"I KNEW IT!" Kisa says as turns to look toward Kerbasi. "Ushankas are totally historically classic!" She turns the book around to show the hats section which shows several types of Ushanka even! "Also, I had a feeling that dragon skeleton was going to cause problems."

Astaren shake shis head slowly towards Kerbasi and Kisaiya, then glances to Kravar and Stirling, then back to Lucht. His expression thoughtful, "Outside of the antics of my friends here." closing his eyes as he thinks, "Hmmmmmmmm" then pulling out a book and flipping through a few pages as he considers.

The book in Astaren's hands wiggles a bit.

Astaren blinks at the book, "err, oh wrong book." Putting that one aside as he pulls out his spellbook from his haver sack.

"Heh. I imagine. ...I mean, they probably don't have a lot t'do," Kerbasi suggests. He hops off the table. Then, looks to Astaren, "I'll leave th' indices alone," he assures the man, suggesting he'd seen the Devoted Look that the scholar had given those august pages. Then, with a quiet smile, he walks a quiet, wide berth around the man, as though fearful of his scholarly, book-eyeing uh, jealousy. "Where did y'say th' familial histories were?" he asks the lucht. "I may have to empty my pockets some, but perhaps w'can celebrate th' rescue of records with a bit of a meal." Or a third meal. Or a fifth. And he's still as thin as a rail.

Astaren snaps his book shut, "Ok I got an idea." grinning a moment, "Kerbasi, shenaningans of marriage aside, do you have any pull within the temple of Vardema? We will most likely need some of their best undead hunters here. Kisaiya, Kravar, Stirling, you all up for a fight?" glancing back to Lucht, "Sometimes something must be destroyed, so something new can floruish in its place. If you are willing to risk everything, we might be able to save everything. Otherwise we can grab what we can and make our escape, but that hornest nest out there is also waking up with the shroud dropping. We may not have a chance to come back."

Astaren pulls out a few parchments, "So the idea is this, I can cast teleport. I can hop back to Alexandria in a blink. Go to the Arcanist Guild, Eluan Temple, and Demois Temple, tell them the situation. Get the help of a caster who create a temporary gateway between these locations, and hold it for a bit. At which we start carting everything out of here, and I mean everything." Glancing to the floating books and Lucht. "With the shroud falling, and the commotion we would be making, we would need to set up a defensive parmiter outside, and hold off the undead while the area is being cleared out. After which, we make our own escape. Dangerous, risky, but we pull it off, we save a lot of knowledge, relics, and history. Thoughts?"

"I'm fine with a fight." Kisaiya calls out as she flips to yet another page with a hum of a tune. She's listening, she's just not sure what to add right now.

Durrankar says, "That would mean we should alert the Vardaman temple as well. That way they can set up the defensive permiter with their experts against undead....just in case."

Astaren nods to Durrankar, "Indeed, they would be most helpful." adding that as a note to a sheet of paper.

Durrankar says, "And...the Hunters of the Dead."

Astaren smiles a bit, "Seems like I should be taking you back with me then Durrankar, the more we contact, the more time it will take. Splitting our numbers would make that quicker." a glance to Kisaiya, "A fight worthy of a bards singing I am sure will be coming." looking back to his paper.

"..if you th9ink it's a good idea to connect ALexandria, or wherever, and this locale? Well... okay! I mean, that's fine by me as long as it gets my beloved friends to safety."

Several of the dancing books wiggle and make muted noises. YEs, really. Talking books again.

"There, there," says the halfling, petting the spine of one soothingly.

Durrankar takes a deep breath before looking to Kerbasi. "We're going to have a tall order ahead of us. I do hope those gnomes on the airship will be able to make it back as well." He then looks at the books. "We'll get you out of here." He then lightly strokes one of them....as if to reassure.....

With Astaren gone to teleport, the Halfling looks at the rest of you.

"Did you say 'airship'?" he repeats.

Durrankar nods to the halfling. "Airship...."

"Well... that's interesting. I suppose it's only a matter of time before they get eaten."

Meanwhile, outside: "Is that a giant dragon?"

"Yes, Brundle. It appears to be undead."

"...OH boy."