The Vagrant Tower (Part 2)
The adventurers, tasked with investigating a mysterious portal that has appeared on the edge of the Genrivian Gorge, have passed through the threshold to discover what seems to be a wizard's study- or part of it, anyway- suspended in the void. Pressing further onwards, they have found their way to a small private library. Excited about what ancient mysteries the books contained within may hold, the adventurers pressed onwards into the library- only to be confronted with a most unexpected (or perhaps not, given the life of an adventurer) turn of events.
The books began flinging themselves off their shelves, landing splayed open on the ground. But this was no mere tremor- no chance event that dislodged the books. For no sooner than they land do they begin to rise on leather-bound hardback wings, flapping against the air, like a flock of malformed birds. Loose sheets of yellowed paper shed like so many feathers as they take off.
Meanwhile, Carver was a late arrival to the base camp. Delayed in departing Alexandria by a short while, she has nevertheless found her way to the base camp on the heels of the other adventurers- brought up to speed by the pair of dichotomous scholars that run the camp, she is urged to join her adventuring companions on the other side of the portal- most emphatically, in fact.
Auranar jumps back as the books start falling off the shelf, bumping into the wall behind her and watching in surprise as they begin to animate. "What kind of books are these?" She asks dumbfounded, and then when they start flying into the air menacingly she feels her heart sink into her stomach. They were going to have to _destroy_ books.
Carver's head reeling, stomach churning, and lightning behind the eyes very bad rush through the magical gateway leaves her gaping like a fish. Thankfully, no one is there to see her blanch. She gags against the taste in the back of her throat as her dark, coal-ringed eyes dart back and forth to take in as much information as she could manage. "I already miss Malika." She unslings her bow, running the back of a hand across her mouth as she picks out the sound of muted thumps and muffled words.
As the books began to fly, Sloan began to skirt back towards the door, moving slowly to ensure no one was being left behind, he calls out to Auranar as she asks about the books. "I believe the best answer, for now madam, would be angry ones, and it might behoove us to exit from this particular room?"
"WHOA!" Magpie yells, stumbling back as the tomes, quite literally, hurl themselves off the shelves. And when they rises, and begin to fly, she can't help but loose a delighted laugh. "That's *perfect!* D'you think they chirp out chapter summaries like birdsong, or--" Auranar's comment wipes the smile off her face, as the reality of the situation hits.
"Wizard traps. Of *course.* And I can think of half a dozen archmages that would just let the books beat them to death, just to avoid having to damage one. That's *butts.* Hey Sloan, maybe try to grab one and read it? Best case scenario, it'll tell us how to turn the thing off! Worst case-- well I mean, explosive runes would *also*pick off most of the little bastards, sooooo..."
Trailing after the group in the room, Crik tilts his head sideways at the sight of falling books. Looking at his own journal, he gives it a testing tilt - then quietly drops it into the other palm. "Stories do tend to grow wings." His beak opens as he looks about the room and the flying pages, waiting for his chance to pounce on one.
GAME: Crik rolls cmb: (3)+2: 5
With Magpie's suggestion, Crik flicks his wings up and reaches out to try and snatch one of the pages - but like all true knowledge, the writings remain elusive from his grasp.
GAME: Crik rolls cmb: (6)+2: 8 GAME: Magpie rolls cmb: (20)+0: 20 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Sloan rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Sloan rolls cmb+2: (12)+6+2: 20 GAME: Subduction rolls 2d6: (3): 3 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (5): 5
As the Swarm dives in on Sloan and Magpie, the Aesir man's hand shoots out, knocking a book out of the air. Snagging another out of the air, and holding onto it with a surprisingly strong grip, the valet calls out. "I might *oof* be so forward as to *ow* suggest we *grunt* leave the room with haste? *ow*" Sloan himself trying to shield Magpie from the brunt of the onslaught as he readies to use the book in his grip as a makeshift weapon.
The advancing swarm of books engulf Sloan and Magpie fully, and they are savagely battered by flapping hardbacks and their skin opens up into hundreds of tiny papercuts that begin to bleed. The books seem entirely heedless of having one or two of their number snatched out of the air, as they continue their assault. More books fall off the shelves, flapping and joining the swarm.
GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/arcana: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
"Yyyyah!" Leaping up and grabbing one of the fluttering books as the swarm descends, Magpie looks absolutely pleased with herself... For about two seconds. Then the papercuts start happening, and suddenly she's not having fun anymore.
Ducking her head and charging out of the flock, Magpie fetches up against the wall, breathing heavily and looking up at Auranar, her face a mess of shallow, bloody cuts. "Okay so good news... the books are just books. Bad news is I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S ANIMATING THEM! It could just be the weirdness this place has, it could be a trap, it could be the soul of an elemental lord for all I know!"
GAME: Auranar rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (18)+8: 26 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+5: (13)+5: 18 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d6: (1): 1 GAME: Subduction rolls 0: (19)+0: 19
Auranar lobs an alchemists fire at the swarm of books. The aim is accurate, but the flames that result only slightly take hold of the books and she's both grateful and upset that there wasn't much of a reaction. "They're just mindless animated objects! Just books really. If we..." She gulps and looks at the books with trepidation. "If we set them on fire they'll be destroyed and we'll be safe. Oh gods. I can't believe I just said that. How can we set fire to _books_?" Maybe running WOULD be better.
"Hey, hol- WAIT!" Carver yells, spotting the shrouded suspicious figure of Crik. He's covered in mounds of black clothing and has weird feet, so in her mind.... "Hey, collected strangers, you have a creeper behind you!" She rushes up toward the fight with the presumption that the aforementioned innocent adventurer is the problem. So, when she slides into view, her bow is aimed at him. For about one second. Until the Tome Throwdown is acknowledged with a bewildered, "Whu?"
GAME: Crik rolls strength: (6)+1: 7 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (5): 5
Crik was looking around the bookshelves, bloodied gnomes and at last, burning fire being lobbed around. "If the books are books, then we can trap them." Reaching out, he attempts to pull on the nearest heaviest looking bookshelf. Breathing in deep, he heaves - and nothing happens.
A moment later he hops back and looks back at Carver. "Where is the creeper?" Slow leaning look past her shoulder.
GAME: Magpie rolls melee: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Crik rolls weapon1: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8 GAME: Subduction rolls 2d6: (9): 9 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (2): 2
Ok. People were trying to light the swarm of books on fire that he was currently standing in. Silly him really for being an inconvenience to that plan. And was the bird person trying pull a shelf over on him? There is a moment there where Sloan tries to consider who it is that he calls an ally in this fight. at least the books were being honest about their intentions of killing him, but alas....they WERE trying to kill him. Face bloodied from myriad cuts, the valet begins moving towards the door himself, looking much worse for the wear as he bats and punches books out of the air. "I fear, we must LEAVE."
The books are relentless in their assault- following the retreating adventurers even as more and more of their number begin to catch aflame thanks to the alchemists fire. Soot and ash and smoldering flecks of paper, curling leather and smoke begin to billow out from the cloud leaving a trail as it gives chase to the group.
They descend upon them- the thousand paper cuts and buffeting hardbacks accompanied by tiny burns from the conflagrated books. The fire looks to be spreading still. Sloan's strikes launch more books out of the air, which explode into a shower of loose pages and glowing embers where they hit a wall or floor.
GAME: Magpie rolls melee: (2)+2: 4 GAME: Magpie rolls heal: (9)+2: 11 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (5): 5
Magpie's adorable little spiked mace erupts in a skin of purple-yellow-teal light, as the little gnome takes frantic swipes at the books. "I mean you're not wrong, but leave *where?!* Are we going back after looking at the first room?! We have a job to do!"
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d4+2: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (2): 2
Watching her friend being battered by books is more than Auranar can bear. "Magpie! We have to! You're dying!" She felt warmth building up inside of her, her horror and desperation becoming magical power that lashed out and flung itself at Magpie. A beam of light exited her hands and hit Magpie, closing her wounds and staunching the bleeding. "I'm sorry! That's all I can do!" With that she fled from the room, hoping the books wouldn't follow outside their natural domain.
"Wha, I m-mean..." Carver says, dark-skin turning ruddy at the misunderstanding and immediate stereotyping Crik as a possible villain. She is saved by the precision papercuts and bludgeoning books scattering her embarrassment and leaving *her* scattered as well. Unsure what is happening, she resorts to instincts and begins to shoot in a flurry all about her without aiming much at all.
GAME: Carver rolls ranged-1: (14)+8+-1: 21 GAME: Carver rolls ranged-1: (5)+8+-1: 12 GAME: Carver rolls 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9 GAME: Crik rolls weapon1: (19)+3: 22 (THREAT) GAME: Crik rolls weapon1: (4)+3: 7 GAME: Crik rolls damage1: aliased to 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Sloan rolls fortitude: (2)+5: 7
Crik's corvid eyes stared blankly back at Carver - until his cloak and person alike were torn into by the books and their leaflets like a force from beyond imagination. The egalrin rogue screams murder and swings up with his dagger, slicing through knowledge, before retreating into the corridor with Auranar. "Come back later when the librarian is not here!" He calls out, to the room.
GAME: Subduction rolls 2d6: (4): 4
Crisp white tunic now wet and red, the Aesir man's face and arms now marred with hundreds of not thousands of thin cuts, Sloan slumps against the wall, his voice choked and wheezing as he looks at Magpie and gasps "Yes. Run. Please." before he slumps to the ground.
GAME: Auranar rolls Heal: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Carver rolls heal: (20)+8: 28
The flock of books continue to burn- as more and more of their pages catch, the fire spreads faster and faster, until the intensity of the flames begins to threaten to become as dangerous as the books themselves. Thankfully for the adventurers, while paper burns quickly, it does not burn long. And the conflagration cannot sustain itself- it burns out what remains of the fuel, and the last few books not fully consumed find themselves missing covers and flapping around uselessly on the ground, trailing smoke and flecks of blackened char.
GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (1): 1 GAME: Subduction rolls 1d6: (3): 3
Carver's blinks her eyes against a mask of crimson, turning toward Crisk. "Okay, I'm not really confident on... Eaglefolk's anatomy but, pressure, bandages, a little salve should work all the same." She'll try to treat his wounds next, even as the nasty gash on her forehead slowly bleeds into the coals around her eyes.
GAME: Carver rolls heal: (13)+8: 21
Auranar rushes to Sloan's side, staunching his bleeding with her hands and bits of his own clothing as best she can. By the time she's done she's spotted with blood. Not from her own wounds from his. "We'll have to carry him out." She days, looking worried as she looks around. "Who else is-" She notices Carver bleeding as she moves to tend to Crik, and sighs, rising to her feet to tend to the woman herself.
GAME: Auranar rolls Heal: (15)+6: 21
Crik's huddled shape with the collection of ropes, bombs and tidbits is exposed as he flings his blood and ragged cloak aside. Not a single severe cut - but the black feathers did carry blood, that was staining all the tiny books and journals he was carrying. It takes him a more fuddling around before his bowed legs just give in, and he falls onto his knees. "... t-thank you." He finally croaks at Carver, glad to feel most of his blood being stuck inside of him now.
Stomping out the last of the embers, Magpie surveys the library. "Okay so that could have gone worse--" Which point she turns, eyes widening at Sloan's unconscious, but thankfully breathing, body. "...Yeah okay no we're going back and supplying up proper. We'll just have to hope the room's still safe when we return? But no, this is bad. Oof... I'm so sorry everyone."
"I'm still mostly healthy, can stay, keep watch." Carver offers, nodding thankfully as Auranar ties off a bandage around her head and treats a few other minor cuts and bruises.
Sloan remains unconscious. what his thoughts or opinions on the matter might be are therefore irrelevant and likely include renewed respect for librarians.
Thankfully, it seems as though the remaining books on the shelves- there are still a couple dozen that didn't join the fight- are just regular old books. Likely, the animated books served as decoys and guards for the actually important books in the library. And though the fire was fierce, the mahogany bookshelves have survived it with just some cracking and charring of their varnish and peeling of their gilding. The remaining books are, also thankfully, silent and still.
Auranar looks up from bandaging Carver. "We go together. There's no way to know if we'll come back to the same place so..." She stands up firmly and walks to the room. "If I'm attacked by books, you all run back to the camp and... Tell Verna I love her."
With that she grabs one of the remaining books off the shelf and stuffs it into her skirt. Then the next
Crik holds up his hands against his new bindings and salve. Watching Auranar move into action, he too hops over the nearest bookshelf and begins to borrow knowledge, hanging the books off the belts around his chest. Even pages are wrapped onto his cloak.
While Auranar pilfers the upper shelves, Magpie chooses the lower ones, grabbing books seemingly at random, by gut feeling. "...Y'know, thinking about it," she says up to Auranar, "kinda hard not to think of this as a bit of a bribe. 'We got books, can we heal our buddy?' But if it gets Sloan up and okay again, I'm *fine with that.* We should go sooner than later, and yeah I do *not* want to leave anyone alone in here, period.
The remaining books on the shelves as the academically minded explore them seem to be on more arcane and obscure topics- one of them has an extremely intricate mandala on the cover, a silvery ink that may even be mithral. Another bears a number of strange runes. The text within is faded, and what snippets can still be found appear to be in a very ancient dialect- these books may in fact predate the sinking of Genrivia, given this tower has been residing outside of the material plane all this time.
Once they have all the books they can carry, and still be able to support a slowly awakening but still very woozy and pale Sloan back out to the portal they are met by the concerned faces of the forward camp- it seems though it only seemed like a few minutes for those within, several hours have passed without and despite arriving bright and early in the day at the campsite, their brief forway into the Vagrant Tower has lasted well into the early hours of the morning.
The injured are swiftly brought to a tent set aside for first aid, where a trained medic and a lay priest of Eluna tend to them. The group are assigned to a decently sized tent to rest in, and the books are jealously eyed by scholars who are too polite to outright ask for them when people are still bleeding.
-End