Lodestones, Trails, and Spells
It's Variday, Vhast 23 14:05:45 1019. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and ebbing. Fair weather clouds drift through the blue sky from the west, along with the wind. The sunlight on the snow is dazzling, and it gleams on the ice.
A05: Warehouse District
On this bright, beautiful wintry day, the sun-illuminated snow in the City lends a crispness to the air, a superficial appearance of cleanliness to the normally dirty streets of the Warehouse District, and a scarcity of pedestrians as the wind chill is strong. Despite the ice and freezing wind, the Sildanyar Ga'Elian moves surefooted and silent through the district, looking up at the names painted on the various warehouses he passes. His griffon is nowhere to be seen.
Thomp. Thomp. Thomp.
Someone is smacking something. Maybe cleaning out a carpet over a railing?
Thomp.... Thomp.
Whatever is making the noise, it isn't entirely rythmic. Nor is it a little old lady. It is Selerik, smacking a book to the side of a satchel. It seems to be sticking, sort of. Some new magic trick he is practicing? He has a little barrel off to the side of a building he has perched on, and there are a few metallic plates sticking to a drain pipe next to him that don't look anchored. Metal magic?
Ga'Elian comes to a halt as his body senses the approaching percussion. Then he glances upward to ensure that he's not directly under any icicles. As Selerik gets nearer, the sil says, good-naturedly, "Hail, friend Selerik. If we were in the mountains I'd think you were trying to start an avalanche. How go things?"
Selerik glances up, giving Ga'Elian a smile, before looking back to the back. "Testing out an invention for a local craftsman. It is a way to carry books, special metal plates and lodestones." He releases the book, letting it rejoin the bag with a thump. "But it makes a racket, and isn't terribly gentle on the books."
Ga'Elian chuckles. "I wonder at the usefulness. I can just imagine some physical weakling of a wizard using it to lug around his massive spellbook and having even more of a struggle with the lodestones and such. How does it, or maybe I should ask, how should it work?"
"Well, work at what is the question." Selerik pulls the book off, opening it to the back page to show a metal plate attached to the book cover. "Anything metal that gets near the bag gets stuck, this is just the same size as what is on the bag. It is problematic currently, I'm not sure what the practical use will end up being. If any."
Ga'Elian shakes his head. "Well, who knows. Anyway, I'm looking for a certain warehouse, but I can't recall the name or address, as Munch has the paper with that information on it. I'm supposed to meet him here to follow a trail. Unfortunately, following a trail of clues isn't as easy as following a trail of tracks."
That gets a slow raise of one eyebrow. "Munch is... Oh dear." He stands up, sliding the book into his satchel. He then goes about removing metal panels from the nearby drainpipe, and sliding them into the satchel as well. All magnetic to appearances. "That sounds like an incident about to happen. Do you know what you were to find there?"
Ga'Elian shakes his head, "Not really. You see, we were investigating a wrecked wagon just outside the City in the mountains, and found the warehouse address and a name neatly penned on vellum in the coat pocket of the unfortunate teamster. He was freighting an artifice box toward the City, presumably to the warehouse indicated on the note. I dropped the box off at the Artificers Hall, as it seemed potentially dangerous and certainly magical, but we're trying to figure out who the box was going to, and who sent it. All we know about the driver and wagon is that there was no sign of other cargo in the wreckage, and the driver was a storm dwarf, working for the Redridge Freight Company. Anyway, the gnome that we took the box too encouraged me to find out what I could about it, so here I am."
Selerik rubs at the edge of his satchel's flap a few moments before slinging it over his shoulder and fixing it in place. "Sounds very very similar to the incident that resulted in two gargoyles being loosed upon a nearby caravan, and the one that led to an unmonitored fire hydra getting out in the city. Both also had calling cards, both also led to more incidents."
Ga'Elian considers. "Hmm. I guess there could be some similarity, but I'm curious what strikes you about this occurrence in relation to those? Those were monster attacks. As far as I can tell, this could have merely been a case of icy conditions on an already treacherous road. I suppose the driver might have veered over the cliff's edge due to a monster, but I saw no monster tracks in the area."
That gets a moment of contemptation before selerik offers Ga'Elian a shrug. "There are patterns to places and events. Echoes maybe. It could be nothing, but I urge you to take caution. As a friend."
Ga'Elian smiles and replies, "Thanks for that. I hope I always take caution. You know, I do have other loose ends to track down, too. Like, what ever became of the horse that was pulling the wagon? I don't think that has a great deal to do with the box and the parties interested in it, but some animals are trained to return to a particular place if they are abandoned. Frankly, I figured the warehouse and the box are most likely to yield the most consequence, but with a little luck, or magic, I bet I could still follow the horse's tracks.
Or there's the angle of trying to trace the shipment back to its origin, too. I figured I'd try that after Munch and I follow up on this lead.
Also, it wouldn't do any harm to stop in and see what Bumblebottom may discovered by now about the box. Maybe he's gotten it open. If Munch delays much longer, I may pursue one of these other leads instead, at least for the time being."
Selerik taps the side of his nose. "There is a spell I've recently learned, you can call on me if you need use of it. With a sample of blood, I can tell you when it was spilled, from who, what they were in life, and a few other details. It is a form of divination magic, nothing to do with necromancy or the sort. I don't have any talent for that magic even if I wanted to try."
Selerik shrugs. "May you never need it, but the help will be open as you get to the source." <ooc> Blood Biography
Ga'Elian says, "That does sound potentially useful. Thanks. There's a neat spell that I haven't used yet myself, but might have occasion to, too. It gives me a mental image of whatever left a particular track as it was in the moment the track was made. Or, at least that what the others in the Ygdrassil Union told me." <ooc> Residual Tracking
Selerik lifts an eyebrow at that. "Interesting. I might have to get a shovel and a kit for unearthing prints whole."
Ga'Elian laughs, "I guess it could be fun." Then, in a playful tone of voice, "What made this track, Elian? Um, I don't know what that thing was, but I'm glad it's not here. Then I describe it to an artist, and as he's sketching away you look over his shoulder and say, Isn't that the Tarrasque?"
Selerik shudders a bit. "No story of that beast has ever boded well. I would rather not tempt fate by mention of it, we've plenty of worries enough in the world. Besides, I don't think I could carry a big enough shovel."
Ga'Elian nods, "I suppose you're right. Best not to tempt fate."