The common room is dark, and smoke billows back into the room from the half-blocked chimney.

The inn is a stone building, and the low ceiling hangs heavy in the murky air, pressing down the
faint tang of stale beer from the rushes strewn on the floor. The ale is good, though, and the
lodgings comfortable enough. Or, at least, so Kaodei hopes; he's made his arrangements at the bar,
bought the mug that is the fair price for a seat, and found a spot on one of the sturdy tables, away
from the knots of village folk. His gnarled staff rests by one side of chair he sits on, and he awaits
his companions.
Elros walks in, having instructed his employees to deal with un-hitching the cows and such, and
walks up to the barman. He quietly asks for a few rooms and orders a small shot of the local spirit
before taking a seat across the table from Kaodei. He smiles slightly crookedly and sips his drink.
Auralios is out in the stable yard. He finally managed to make the stable-boy understand that he
wished to un-tack and groom down his own horse and is endeavouring to avoid being forced to
communicate with the strange thief's new hangers-on.
Kaodei glances over as Quoril takes a seat, which seems the minimum necessary acknowledgement.
He raises one eyebrow to the room for a moment, then notices Quoril's smile. "Something funny?"
he asks, without that much interest.
"Oh, no, just been rather enjoying the country air. I'm much more used to the city, but a change of
pace is always welcome." He takes another small sip. "These people might not be the brightest lot
around, but they do know how to make a fine apple brandy"
"I suspect they know not to chase fell beasts while hungover, halak," Kaodei smiles, nodding gently
towards the drink. "But apple brandy is hardly an achievement. It happens more or less by
accident," he adds, then furrows his brow slightly as he reconsiders a lecture about the nature of
fermentation and its possible alchemical properties.
"I would think there's some degree of competency involved. Certainly any fool can throw together a
fermented beverage, but a delicate yet firey drink such as this requires a skilled artisan." Elros
chuckles slightly "Still, it's not much compared to the Spiral Citadel back at Honsaa. Some time in
the country is pleasant, but I can't say I'll be sad to get back to civilisation. No doubt that will be
significantly more true upon our return from the great swamp"
Kaodei takes a tentative sip from the mug of ale, tilts his head slightly and raises one shoulder a
hair, which is the closest he can get to a shrug. "I can't say as it makes much difference to me," he
begins, which sounds a little odd in his relatively formal accent. "I'm comfortable enough out in
these little towns, after all. One doesn't learn by staying in one place. Life is a book, and those who
do not travel only ever read one page." This last sentence is delivered with a slight note of
satisfaction, as if something about the aphorism or its use pleases him.
Elros nods slowly "Yes, I can certainly see the value in experiencing as much as is feasible. I've
been wanting to see the world for quite some time now and I've certainly been... well, not always
enjoying, but certainly been finding the road to be interesting so far. Not to mention lucrative, ha
ha" he almost speaks the laugh, but smiles broadly and leans back in his chair "so how long have
you been travelling?"
"It's not strictly the value, as an absolute." Kaodei lifts one hand slightly from the table, fingers
raised. "I don't advocate some kind of hedonism. Simply that in my profession..." he pauses, looks
at Quoril for a moment, then slightly grudgingly revises: "Our profession, I should say, one learns
by the unfamiliar. I believe that is the root of the common term adventurer, much as I dislike the

word." He raises his shoulder again, that curious half-shrug. "As to your question, a while now...
Nearly a year, and indeed an interesting one." There's a pause there, but it's quickly resumed, so
quick you might wonder if there was one at all. "I've seen many strange things, even before the
wonders of Thunder Break."
"Oh yes? I've read a little on the strange wonders that hide all around us, but until these last few
weeks I've seen little beyond the occasional captured Ettin paraded through town, or magical duels
at the Gods Day carnival in the square outside the White Palace. Care to speak a little of what
you've seen?"
The heavy wooden door of the inn is pushed open and a figure is framed against the rapidly fading
light. Hardly anyone bothers to look up as Auralios enters, his cerulean travelling-cloak pushed
back over one shoulder and pinned under his saddlebags. After casting a single glance around the
room he makes his way over to the oaken bar and begins to converse with the landlord.
Elros' eyes flick to the door as it opens and if one were looking closely one would see the tiniest
movement of his right hand towards his left sleeve, but he relaxes again upon seeing Auralios walk
in, and his eyes saccade back to gazing through Kaodei
For the first time, Kaodei looks directly at Quoril, without glancing into his mug, or across the bar.
The question's a blunt one, and a nonplussed flicker crosses his well-schooled face, but is gone
swiftly as he resumes his nonspecifically averted gaze. "Shamans, shocker lizards and rather too
many undead. The latter, at least, conspire to cluster around ruins and relics alike, in a most
infuriating fashion." He takes the opportunity of Auralios' entry to change the subject; he doesn't
really know how to respond to directness. "I see our elf has finally caught up. Perhaps he was held
up because the stable-boy looked like a fair fight," he observes in a low, wry voice.
Half of Elros' mouth turns up in a smile and he chuckles quietly.
The barman's voice drifts across the crowd, loud and slow, "Don't know shee-enty-ass. We gots
brandy, and we gots ale. Now, again... What... Do... You... Want?"
Auralios is obviously at something of a loss; even the tavern at Corthus had a small keg of Elven
wine. He ponders for a second, then closes his eyes and points at one of the barrels behind the
barman.
Kaodei looks over at the bar, and then at Quoril. "It might be an idea to go over there and intercede
on his behalf, before someone takes offense. I'd do it myself, but..." he gestures at his walking staff
with a bitter, bitter grin.
Elros swivels round slowly and smiles at Auralios, taking a slightly exaggerated sip of his brandy.
Kaodei seems a little surprised that Quoril ignores him, but since Auralios' troubles appear to be
somewhat solved, he lets it pass without comment.
Elros shifts along to the next seat so Auralios can get in easily and gets out his notebook and quill,
and begins idly writing numbers into columns on a densely-ink-filled page
Rooms are apparently much easier to organise, as it is not long before Auralios is wending his way
across the common-room to the bench his companions have selected. He chooses not to take the
space vacated by Quoril, and instead seats himself on the other side. He doesn't seem to mind the
fact that this puts his back to the door and the room in general. He drops the saddlebags to the floor,
unfastens his cloak and drapes it over the bench, and somewhat gingerly lowers himself down. No

wince crosses his face, but then not much of an expression ever does.
Elros continues to scribble for a moment before snapping the small book shut and looking up "Ever
seen a shocker lizard, Auralios? I myself have seen a rat the size of a man's arm scurry up a gutter,
but never an electric lizard"
Kaodei is merely half-watching for Auralios' response, though again without a direct focussing of
his gaze.
Auralios half-raises an eyebrow. "What charming tales you do tell, thief. I have heard many stories
from men of the cities, stories of rats and vermin, of filth and foulness and stench. I will never
understand why humans choose to live in such places, such squalor. Penned in like... well, like rats."
"Oh indeed, cities can be dank places, but they also contain a vast array of fascinations" (Elros
slightly stumbles on the pronunciation of "fascinations") "they are the seats of knowledge and
industry, the beating hearts of civilisation".
"One would suggest there's also an element of protection. Humans live in the open spaces of the
world, near rivers, on plains, so many places where the ability to crowd a thousand people behind a
wall is the dividing line between whether what you have is civilisation or just a place for orcs to
keep their slaves." Kaodei's elven is clipped slightly, and though formal in mode, noticably
accented. "The smell, I suspect, is a lesser evil. Not everyone, after all," he smiles at Auralios, "can
have alliances with the trees."
"Civilisation? Ah, you would not use that word so lightly if you but understood its true meaning.
The cities of my people, of my youth..." Auralios hesitates. "You would not." he finishes, simply.
"Well, some of us don't have the luxury of growing up among their people" Elros' smile remains
rigidly fixed across his face "but I suppose I'm not truly fit to comment; I've never had the
opportunity to visit an elven city, although I do hear a great many tales of them, some of which I
find rather hard to believe" Elros takes another, longer, sip of his drink and idly fiddles with
something unseen deep within one of his many pockets.
"One hundred and forty-seven words for wood-carving is not the true meaning of civilization,"
Kaodei smiles. "But I confess I, too, have never seen the cities of the elves. I have read of them, of
course, but what I know of your people is rather more historical than civic. I note, however," and
here he raises one finger slightly, "that you are rather further west than those cities of your youth."
A shadow passes across Auralios' face at Kaodei's casual "note", but his tone remains light as he
says, "Very true, spellweaver, very true. You are as observant as we have come to expect. And your
home? Do your people live in mighty cities, or tents among the grasses?" He still has not touched
his beer.
Kaodei is way too subtle to not notice Auralios avoiding the implied question; it's why he didn't ask
it directly, after all. "My people live where the words take them, as a matter of course. I know of
some who spend their entire lives in the cast-off relics of human civilisations. My home, however,
is a place of halls and stone - we carve from the living rock." He chuckles lightly here. "I suspect, if
we were as numerous as humans, it would be akin to one of the Hells; but we don't tend to live in
groups as large as theirs, and our halls are..." he pauses for a moment, and anyone who didn't know
him might think he was searching for a word. "...Extensive, to say the least," he finishes.
Elros has leaned forward and is listening quite intently to Kaodei, intrigued by the hints of Illumian

culture.
"Yes, you have mentioned both your people's lack of numbers and the extensiveness of their
delvings before; I had wondered how such an apparently numerically inferior group could achieve
such 'great' works. Are you a magically gifted race, or is there something more at work here?"
Auralios appears intrigued, if a little dismissive of burrowings beneath the earth. He pushes his mug
away and seems to focus in an eerily intent fashion upon Kaodei's response.
Kaodei smiles broadly at that; it's the smile of a teacher to a pupil, slightly condescending but filled
with the joy of imparting knowledge. "Well, there are several factors to consider. The first, as you
observe, is our magical gifts; we have a facility for creativity with magic that I think is perhaps
unmatched. The second is a cultural one; most of our race learn a great many skills within their
lifetimes, and so our stonemasons are our mages are our scrimshanders are our architects are our
shipwrights." He ticks off the points on his fingers as he goes.
"We bring diverse skills to bear on problems, you see, and... at one time, we also brought to bear
perhaps the greatest collection of knowledge ever seen. There is also, thirdly, that we do not carve
every step of the way; there are halls and corridors that honeycomb the natural earth that we may
use." Here he pauses, and takes a sip from his drink, filling time while he considers his words.
"Lastly," he begins, thoughtfully, "In places where the conditions are right, some of our dwellings
are perhaps greater still. There are places that, one could say, facilitate the creation of such things,
as a forest provides ample opportunity and materials for working in wood." There he finishes,
furrows his brow for a moment, then smiles again. "Does that answer your question?"
Elros has leaned back and is gazing into space, soaking in the conversation.
Auralios' lips move ever-so-slightly throughout Kaodei's explanation; when it is over he nods
slightly, and sits back, thoughtful. "I believe it does, for now. I thank you for the knowledge of your
people; I will guard it well." This last is a traditional elven acknowledgment, ancient words dating
from the times of warring tribes and hidden camps, when to know someone's location was to hold
their life in your hands. "And you, half-breed? Which of these human cities were you whelped in?"
Elros focuses back on Auralios and briefly pauses to mentally run through possible crimes he's
wanted for in the city before shrugging slightly and speaking "I grew up in Raan, which you've no
doubt heard of. Most of what is said of it is true, and a good deal besides. It can be a harsh place to
live, but there's no greater settlement for a thousand miles, and the best and worst of all the races
can be found there."
A slight sardonic edge creeps into Auralios' voice, "Oh, I have indeed heard of Raan; it is not a
name I shall forget. I even plan to go there, so perhaps you will tell me more of your home
sometime."
"I would be happy to - it's certainly a sight to behold, if not the ideal place to make one's home."
Elros turns to Kaodei "Have you had the opportunity to visit Raan or any of the other great cities of
the North?"
"I can't say as I have. Most of the knowledge in cities tends to be already discovered, you see." He
shakes his head slightly. "And besides, I like to try and steer clear of the worst of all races."
Auralios chuckles, a rare event.

"Hah, indeed, well I'm still in the process of absorbing the extant knowledge myself" Elros glares
slightly creepily at another patron who has been staring for a few minutes at the three out-oftowners speaking elvish "but I can see the worth in seeking out novel information. There's a certain
joy in being the only one to know something."
Kaodei furrows his brow for a moment, but rather than responding, he pauses and looks out to the
bar first. After a moment, he says "It's more that the specific information I seek is not found in
extant collections; a matter of direction of enquiry, rather than personal pride."
"I suppose I'm not yet advanced enough in my studies to be needing to find original information.
Thank you for the tips on my spellcasting technique, by the way. I think I've really come on in my
somatic finesse these last few weeks..."
Auralios has been lost in thought, but now leans forward to speak "I might say, however, that to be
the only one who knows a thing is to have great power... and great responsibility. If that piece of
knowledge dies with you, it is a loss to all."
"That being said, some knowledge is better left to those few who are faced with the choices it
engenders. Nothing that is worth knowing is safe to know, and less still to be shared." He steeples
his fingers and seems to grow distant from the bustle of the common-room around him.
"Take our recent... entanglements. Dragons, and liches, and battles in the dark. A library that holds
all the knowledge of the ages. A god who walks amongst us, a priest who cannot die... These are
things that I will take to my grave. Do you believe that these folk about us would know how to cope
with such knowledge? They would flee into the peace and safety of oblivion. No, I believe there is
no joy in solitary knowledge, but there is often the direst necessity and fearful danger."
"Does it truly give you no joy to know that you have seen and done things that mere peasants can
only dream of? Knowing the face of a god, seeing the wonders of Thunder Break, moments that live
on in few minds but our own." Elros finishes his drink and gestures to the barman to come over.
"And we are in a tavern. I think they are already fleeing into oblivion." Kaodei doesn't smile as he
says it. "But I do not believe that the dark things we have seen are knowledge. They are nightmares;
figments and seemings of minds where reason sleeps. It is knowledge that we use against them;
knowledge of their workings, and their weaknesses." He frowns for a second, looking down at the
table, then up at the ceiling. "That is not to say they do not worry me, of course."
"Well then, let us hope that this outing is a little more straightforward" the barman bustles over
grumpily [in common] "My good sir, I'm a mite peckish. Perhaps you could furnish me with your...
finest soup or broth, and whatever my companions wish to eat?"
[Auralios, while Quoril's talking] "A month ago I was hunting in the woods for my next meal; in a
month's time we may be as dead as the rabbit I caught that day. All life is but fleeting shadow, and
the efforts of mortals often come to naught... Do you fear this Broadcloak because you do not
understand him?"
"Because I do not understand him enough." Kaodei wavers a hand, equivocating. "I have... I think I
have seen just enough of him to know that he is dangerous. But not enough to see him whole, to
contain him within my head and plan accordingly. And I fear there is more than him. Remember...
what the god said? Remember the dragons?" The illumian actually looks worried, which is rare for
him. "What concerns me is that we are navigating a labyrinth in the dark, and there's a blade at
every turn."

"Well, ha ha, fortunately I can see in the dark" Elros smiles awkwardly with a fleeting hint of
nervousness, attempting to bring some levity to the situation
A glance; "Indeed you can... and sometimes, I think, more clearly than I, which is interesting in and
of itself. There's more than elf blood in you, isn't there, mongrel?"
"No matter. This is a darkness that one cannot dispel with magic; the blades are those that one is not
even aware of until it is too late. I share your apprehensions, wizard; gods and dragons are beyond
my skills with a blade, perhaps beyond the skills of all the blades of all the elves in Tescillia."
Elros pointedly ignores the first comment, but his broad smile has drained slightly with all the
serious talk. "I'm not entirely sure what we've gotten ourselves into, but I suspect facts surrounding
Martin and his activities will gradually become more apparent to us. I may not pay much heed to
the words of god-followers, but portents straight from the mouth of a god do carry some weight
with me."
Auralios' words dispel Kaodei's frown, and after a few moments, he adds; "And perhaps they are
not beyond the killing. There was a man named Kerishum, Eminence of Blades, who it is said killed
as many as four dragons before his death. And I have heard tales told by those who have stood on
the corpses of gods, in the secret graveyards where these things lay." He smiles, thin-lipped; there's
a twinkle in his eye, as there is when he speaks of secrets.
The talk of killing dragons and gods brings a grin back to Elros' face.
Auralios breathes out, emptying his lungs softly but steadily. The weight of the discussion seems to
pass from him, and he sits upright on the bench. "This is so? Then perhaps I would best spend the
last of this light at practice. I would not have it said that a human swordsman fought more bravely
or with more ability than I. If you will excuse me, I shall rejoin you soon."
[in draconic] "That elf most certainly likes to play with his sword." Elros cranes his neck towards
the kitchen "I do wish that fat chap would hurry up, I haven't eaten in hours."
Kaodei watches Auralios go, thoughtfully, but looks back to Quoril when he speaks, still in Elven.
"I wouldn't chase him up, if I were you. He won't look too kindly upon it. Take heart that at least
this means it hasn't been sitting in a pot all day."
"Yes, this is true. Anyway, I was wondering what you made of those dimensional exit portals back
in the library? A most curious system, that one."
"Not necessarily that unusual. I confess, planar magic isn't my strong point, but the triggering
mechanism is not wildly unconventional. Several relatively common magical tools use sequences of
triggers; the advantage, you see," Kaodei holds up three fingers, and taps them in sequence - one,
two, three, then three, two, one, then two three one. "By using multiple physical triggers, one allows
for the configuration of properties with large... tayote, large numbers of possibilities, using a
minimum of physical input sites." He gives that one-shouldered shrug again. "It's elegant, really,
and compared to, say, song portals, relatively mundane."
"Yes, I can't say I'm particularly informed with regards to planar magic either - I'm primarily
familiar with illusions. Song portals? I don't believe I've come across them. Opened and stabilised
by music?" Elros glances over to the kitchen again and drinks the last couple of drops from his cup,
allowing them to drip onto his tongue.

Kaodei nods once, swiftly. "Yes, or something like it. What little I have found on the subject alludes
to specific poems, set to specific music, for specific portals. So, if widespread, a network that one
could use to navigate from end to end of the earth by recital." He shakes his head at that, though.
"That, of course, presumes an unevinced level of sophistication and scope, and the coordination of
an empire of unheard-of size - more likely, it was a fashion at one time to trigger portals so." He
takes another drink from his mug - he's not even halfway down, but doesn't appear to be in a rush. "I
cannot even say for certain whether they exist; which, I suppose, is the case with illusions as well."
"Ha ha" again Elros gives the hollow spoken-laugh "That is quite true. I read a most interesting
treatise by Magister Tyral of the Zethis on the relationship between illusions and reality - he argued
that they acted directly on the minds of those affected, rather than creating "real" images and sound.
I'm unsure whether I agree with him, but his case was quite persuasive"
Kaodei laughs at this; or more specifically, he giggles, a little sniggering burst of them. "From a
Magister of the Zephis? Gau halak, and falling prone to a foolish assumption," he begins, as he
calms down. "Just because one groups something into a school of magic, does not mean it is
universally alike." Here, Kaodei's tone takes on something lilting, as if he's recounting something
from memory. "Of illusion's characters, there are three, from which five are made: The figment
shows to all what is not there; the phantasm tells the mind what is not there; the shadow creates
what is not there. From figment and phantasm we derive pattern; from figments inverted, we have
glamer," He comes back to himself visibly, and concludes, "Though the difference in the last case is
subtle, and a subject perhaps worth debate."
At this point the fat innkeeper comes rolling back in and deposits a bowl of some sort of stew in
front of Quoril. Even from where Kaodei is sitting he can see the globules of grease floating on the
surface. Some... thing bobs up momentarily and sinks back down. He holds out his hand for
payment.
Kaodei grimaces at Auralios' food, and pushes his chair back. It takes him a few moments to
awkwardly haul himself to his feet and pick up his pack. "But if you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire
to my room. There are notes to collate."