When Xandar walked into the Barking Toad the following day, he was greeted by the innkeeper. The green, bunny-infested dress she had worn the day before had been replaced with another one, this time portraying red strawberries scattered on a field of blue. She was busy wiping the tables and arranging the tablecloths as Xandar entered, but sprang up the moment she heard him and flashed a smile at him.
“Welcome back!” she exclaimed. “Let me guess, you’re here to see the distinguished Mr. Havnar?”
“I, uh.. yes, I am,” Xandar stammered, taken aback. He wasn’t used to such cheerfulness so early in the morning.
“Of course, I will take you to him! And would you like a hot cup of tea?” she asked as she walked over to him, her smile widening.
“Oh, that’s alright, perhaps later,” Xandar said.
“No tea?” She seemed hurt, but the shock was quickly replaced by a mischievous smile, and she leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. “Perhaps a scone or a slice of apple pie? A sweet bite makes for a sweet day!”
“Sounds lovely, I’ll surely return for that later,” Xandar reassured her, laughing nervously. It felt wrong to turn down such excitement.
She walked him through the dining hall and towards the steps that led to the second floor, lingering to smile in the direction of one of the tables. That morning, a small group occupied a corner table at the edge of the hall: a short, slender woman clad in a tight-fitting leather suit, a youth wielding a sword that seemed almost bigger than himself, and a red-haired dwarf adorned with a golden pendant over her chain mail tunic and a hefty hammer strapped to her belt.
Adventurers, no doubt, Xandar thought, suppressing a chuckle as he imagined how they must have felt realizing they had been misled by the inn’s name. Like helpless insects in the sugary web of the kindest of spiders, they were now stuck.
The group’s hushed conversation abruptly ceased as the innkeeper passed by and they nodded politely, exchanging eager glances. Xandar suspected they had spotted an opportunity to escape.
“Have you known Mr. Havnar for a long time?” the innkeeper asked conversationally as they started up the stairs.
“No, in fact, I only met him the other day.” Xandar replied.
“He’s quite an interesting man. Busy too,” the innkeeper noted. “He must be working on something truly important. I must admit, his request seemed slightly unusual when I first heard it- I mean, who wants to rent an additional room and fill it with tables and chairs? Can you believe he even considered using the basement? I told him it wasn’t fit for guests. So he and my husband scurried about, hauling desks and chairs up the stairs the other evening.” She snickered at her own story. Xandar tried not to appear too surprised.
They reached the top of the stairs, where the corridor extended further to the right, leaving only two rooms at its left end. The innkeeper shifted aside, clearing the way for Xandar, and motioned towards the last door on the left end.
“He’s inside, and do let me know if you change your mind about that tea and pie,” she winked before turning away.
Xandar waited for the vibrant innkeeper’s dress to disappear from sight before knocking. Murmuring voices drifted from behind the closed door.
"Come in!” Came the immediate response, and after a moment’s hesitation, Xandar turned the doorknob.
"...in OldBridge, a few days' ride from here. They're very young and so very secretive, wouldn't even admit where they got it. But you can’t blame them for it, can you?" Erdrik was saying as Xandar stepped into the room, ending his story with an abrupt chuckle.
Just as the innkeeper had described, the room was most unusual. Namely, there was no bed. Instead, three writing desks were tightly squeezed against the walls, each accompanied by a chair. A small wardrobe stood next to one of the desks. It was larger than most inn chambers Xandar had seen before, but stuffed with all that furniture, it felt cramped.
Erdrik was standing near the window, his presence illuminated, courtesy of the morning sun. Standing beside him, with their back turned to Xandar, was a familiar figure. The dark hood was absent that day, allowing the silver strands of their hair to stand out against the black robes. Resting on the desk before them lay a large book, strange sigils carved in red on its leather cover. They both turned at the sound of the door opening, and Xandar tried to keep his expression level as the mysterious guest he had encountered not long ago at the blacksmith’s shop - Xandar was certain of it - finally revealed his face.
The man's skin possessed a bluish shade of black, turning to a metallic dark gray when touched by the sunlights streaming through the window. His face was long and narrow, with high, prominent cheekbones. Tucked beneath his long hair - which flowed down his bony shoulders like a moonlit river - were two elongated, pointed ears. A dark elf, Xandar thought, a drow.
He wasn’t wearing his cloak that day, and instead was clad in impeccably clean dark robes. Though they carried no unnecessary decorations, the garments draped his slender frame with an elegant grace surpassing any robes Xandar had seen within the university. Elvish design, no doubt. Around his slim waist, a belt bore numerous small pouches, while a collection of amulets hung around his neck. His delicate fingers were adorned with a number of rings, which Xandar suspected were not there solely for the purpose of decoration.
"Ah, Xandar, good to see you!" Erdrik greeted. "Should I take this as a sign you've agreed to my offer?"
Xandar reached into his bag and produced the scroll Erdrik had given him the previous day. "Well, it is indeed an intriguing offer," He replied.
"Excellent! Do you have any questions about the contract?" Erdrik inquired.
Xandar had been pondering that very question for the better part of the previous evening and the morning as well. He had never received similar offers before, and consequently, had never come across such a contract. There were bound to be questions for him to ask, but he struggled to think of any. The profit distribution seemed fair - Erdrik would receive the larger share as he was the one finding clients, planning the work, and providing the workspace and materials. And to be honest, however small Xandar's portion might have been, it was still an improvement compared to what he could expect to conjure through his own practice.
Aside from that, the contract mainly dealt with potential hazards, accidents, and the level of responsibility Erdrik would assume in the event of such incidents, which, in polite and formal language, amounted to none.
"I managed to figure out most of it, though, perhaps the part about ownership of spell rights was not entirely clear to me," Xandar said after some thought.
"Think of it this way: Had you joined a secret society, or any wizard order for that matter, all spells you create for that group would be deemed the group’s exclusive property. Were they partially crafted by you? Yes, though in some societies, you wouldn’t even be credited for that. In our case, you would be fully recognized for your participation and work. However," Erdrik paused for emphasis, his short, patchy eyebrows leaping upward, "should you choose to leave, you cannot take any of the spells you created with you. Any scrolls, writings, potions, or other magical artifacts you create as part of this group will remain under my ownership. You could, of course, go and recreate these artifacts on your own if you wish. I can't stop you there, can I? But anything created while you work for me, belongs to me."
Xandar listened, nodding periodically. Beside Erdrik, the dark elf observed the exchange of words with curiosity, a crooked smile playing on his thin lips. To Xandar, it appeared tinged with a hint of mockery, though he couldn’t decipher if it stemmed from the nature of the grin itself or simply because it emanated from a drow.
"I suppose that’s fair," Xandar conceded. "The rest time also seems reasonable-"
"A day of rest each Sunday, two full weeks off each year, and of course the Horned Hare Awakening Day." Erdrik interjected before Xandar could complete his thought.
Xandar nodded, thinking that it might be more free time than he knew what to do with. "Well, is it signed, then," he said, handing the scroll to Erdrik.
"Excellent!" Erdrik exclaimed. He unfurled the scroll as he said that, his eyes quickly darting over the text, before rolling it back up and flashing Xandar a smile.
"And I haven't introduced the two of you yet, haven't I? This is Elderon, he will be joining our little venture," Erdrik went on to say, gesturing towards the dark elf, "Elderon brings massive experience deciphering ancient scripts. And this is Xandar Biergus - Xandar had recently graduated from Rovalia's magic university and already has some experience as a staff to hire in various fields."
"Pleased to meet you," Elderon said, smiling his suspicious smile again as he nodded ever so slightly.
"And you as well, Elderon..?" Xandar let the name hang in the air, casting a questioning glance at the dark elf.
The drow smirked, "Curious about my house name?" he chuckled, shaking his head slowly, "I prefer to leave that out of our discussion. Besides, it wouldn’t tell you much."
"Of course," Xandar nodded, "And what about your party? Will they wait for you?"
For a moment, a shadow passed over the dark elf's pointed face, only to be replaced by his customary gtin- amused, with just a hint of contempt.
"You two met before?" Erdrik interrupted.
Xandar found Elderon watching him with curious anticipation.
"Briefly," he replied, "I was crafting a sword enhancing spell for an adventurer. I believe Elderon was among the members of his party."
"Many adventurers pass through Rovalia, don't they?" Erdrik said.
"How observant of you," Elderon said, then, turning to Erdrik, added, "I arrived here with a party, that is true. We have been traveling together for a while, but this is where our roads part. At least for now. Rovalia has beckoned me for quite some time - its famous library alone could keep me busy for years. And then, of course, there was your most intriguing offer - an opportunity to work and learn from some of the greatest minds the realm has to offer. Such an offer could not be overlooked."
Elderon’s gaze fixated on Xandar, studying him with the patience of a spider, his eyes flickering with a reddish glow that would intermittently fade like a distant light. Xandar could not tell if the look was meant to be challenging or, perhaps even threatening, but he begrudgingly admitted that it quickly made him feel uncomfortable.
"So, shall we get right to it, then?" Erdrik broke the silence.
"Indeed," Xandar agreed, relieved at the chance to break free from the elf's intense stare.
"Excellent. So to give you some history, Xandar, this tome originated from a little known secret society in OldBridge, not too far from here. The Flickering- no, the Mercury Circle?" Erdrik looked up as he tried to remember the group’s name, "Well, you get the idea. They haven't earned a name for themselves yet, but they believe this book is their ticket to recognition."
"You travelled all the way here with this tome?" Xandar asked, his disbelief evident.
The dark elf, Xandar noticed, never diverted his eyes off the book. He listened to Erdrik talk, nodding and stroking his pointed chin, but his attention seemed to be locked on the ancient tome.
It was indeed a fascinating book. At first glance, it seemed ordinary - not particularly large, its leather binding new yet simple. Only the peculiar red letters carved upon the leather stood out. But upon longer inspection, Xandar noticed that the seemingly plain cover was intricately adorned with elaborate designs and patterns, coiling and twisting like serpents around the red letters.
He attempted to trace the lines with his eyes but soon became perplexed. Whenever he thought he had caught the beginning and end of a sentence, he would lose his thread. Either a neighboring sentence intercepted his focus, or the line he was tracking contorted so badly that he lost its path entirely. At one point, the text appeared to shift and move, but when Xandar blinked the illusion vanished.
“I have quite a few spells for translation,” Elderon mentioned, “We could start with those.”
“Simple translation spells won’t work here,” Erdrik dismissed, “I’ve already attempted it. We need to first understand what language is used here and then most likely, if there aren’t existing spells for it, craft a new one that can translate from this language in particular.”
“Perhaps ‘Detect Language’?” Xandar offered, naming one of the spells taught to senior wizards at the university.
“That won’t work here either. ‘Detect Language’ functions by connecting to the collective consciousness of this plane and scanning through it. However, this book was not written on this plane. I could be wrong, but that’s where I believe we should begin,” Erdrik stated, his tone suggesting that he didn’t believe he was wrong and that his words were a decision rather than a mere suggestion.
“Strange that a young society managed to get hold of such a powerful book,” Xandar remarked.
“Strange?” Elderon smirked beside him. “Young wizards do it all the time. It’s how you learn, grow, and acquire true power and knowledge. University is a good start, but if you seek real growth, you must venture into dangerous places.”
“Are you suggesting they got it on an adventure?” Xandar said.
“That, or they bought it from someone who had been on one.” Elderon suggested.
“Pondering how they acquired the book won’t further our ability to decipher it, won’t it?” Erdrik burst out. “I say we start by determining the language we’re dealing with here. Once we know that, we devise a method to translate it.” He strode over to the wardrobe as he spoke and swung it open, unveiling a pile of scrolls, quills, and ink bottles - all organized meticulously - as well as an assortment of books.
The writing implements sat on the top shelf, the scrolls arranged in a pyramid shape, kept from rolling by the ink bottles forming a barrier. Two shelves beneath them were laden with books, ordered by size.
“You should find all you need here, along with a portion of my personal library. These are not all the books I possess, but rather the ones I find most useful. Let’s concentrate our efforts on finding ways to connect with other planes and uncovering the language in which the book is written. Once we find the plane of origin and establish a proper connection, modifying an existing translation spell should suffice.” Erdrik told them, bending slightly, as he began scanning the books.
“Ah, there we are,” he exclaimed, pulling out three books and extending them towards Elderon, who eagerly reached out to grab them.
“These should cover at least three other planes. If we find no leads here, we can expand our search to the library,” he turned his eyes to Xandar, “You must still have access to it, I presume, in case we need it.”
“‘A Call From The Abyss’ - that is one of the most renowned guides to the lower planes!” Elderon exclaimed, his strange eyes hungrily running over the covers. “It’s not an easy book to come by,” he added, shifting his piercing gaze to Erdrik.
If Erdrik found the dark elf’s attention unsettling, he did not show it. “As I mentioned, I have been working in this field for quite some time, and acquiring books is an integral part of that work,” he replied levelly.
“I can start with this one, if it's all the same to you,” Elderon said. Without awaiting a reply, he extended the two other books to Xandar, keeping the hefty tome in his right.
“Sure,” Xandar exhaled.
“Very well, then,” Erdrik concluded, “I will return in the afternoon, perhaps earlier, and we can discuss our progress then.”
He made his way to the desk by the window, where a cape was casually draped over a chair and a tall hat rested on the corner of the table.
Xandar watched as he placed the two books Elderon had given him on the remaining desk and then approached the man gingerly.
“I’ll walk you out. Figured I’d get myself a cup of tea,” Xandar said, casting a wary sidelong glance at Elderon. He found the dark elf already engrossed in the book before him, paying Xandar little attention.
“Splendid.” Erdrik said in a joyless tone.
They walked in silence along the corridor and down the stairs. Upon reaching the main hall, Xandar quickened his pace until he was walking alongside the tall man. “Are you certain it’s wise?” Xandar began, searching Erdrik’s face for understanding.
Erdrik slowed his pace and regarded him with a blank expression.
“I mean, Elderon joining our group? Considering him, being a.. well.. a dark elf?” Xandar said.
Erdrik halted. “I do not judge based on prejudices, Xandar,” he said firmly. “Elderon possessed the skills and experience that suits my needs, and that is reason enough for me to employ him. There are reasons why people tend to steer away from dark elves, I’ll give you that, but when one goes up to the surface, it usually means they turned away from the drow ways.”
“But do you trust him?” Xandar persisted, “And with such precious books?”
“It is too early to talk about trust at this stage, but do not fret about the books,” Erdrik reassured him, a pleased smile growing on his rectangular face. “I didn’t just leave my hard-earned collection defenceless and trusted it to two individuals I just met.”
And with that he left, leaving Xandar to contemplate his words.
It made sense, Xandar had to admit. The man had indeed traveled all the way to Rovalia with those powerful items and had managed to arrive unharmed. And while it wasn’t impossible to travel alone, the smaller the group and the greater the value of their belongings, the higher was the risk of robbery. To safely reach a large city with all such magical books, one would either need a few fighters as companions or possess enough strength as a wizard to defend oneself.
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Once again, Xandar found himself thinking that Erdrik wasn’t exactly who he appeared to be, though this time for different reasons.
He ordered a cup of strong black tea, taking advantage of the inn’s freshly replenished supply, and succumbed to the innkeeper’s persuasive offers by accepting a sweet scone.
“Go on, I'll make sure the tea and treat are delivered to your door on little fairy wings. No need to wait here,” the innkeeper assured him and Xandar returned to the room.
Inside he found Elderon still under the book’s spell, reading with fervor. Xandar noticed that he had taken out a scroll, a quill and a pot of ink from the closet and was occasionally jotting down notes. Xandar approached the desk near the door, where he had left the two remaining books, and examined their covers. They were written in the common tongue. One spoke of contacting other planes, although Xandar suspected it would provide only general information. The other delved into the spirit world. Xandar had heard rumors of obtaining insights from the realm of spirits, but he was also aware of the potential to encounter an unpleasant entity there. Not only that, the words of spirits always needed to be taken with a grain of salt. With demons and devils you knew where you stood, their alignment being clear on the map, but with spirits, the lines were blurrier. Taking all that into consideration, Xandar decided to start with the first book.
The title read ‘The Invisible Spectrum - A Journey to the Upper and Lower Planes’. Xandar took a slow exhale and opened the old, impressive cover. He had expected the book to consist of dry theory, but he quickly found himself captivated, and when a knock sounded at the door, he felt as though he had been abruptly awakened from a dream.
Opening the door, he thanked the innkeeper, catching a smirk from Elderon as he returned to his desk. Xandar resumed his reading, ready to delve back into the immersive world within the pages.
The hours passed slowly. Xandar quickly leafed through the two books in front of him, sipping his tea and noting the spells he believed would be of use. He soon returned to the wardrobe, hoping to find additional sources of knowledge.
He glanced aside at Elderon and found the drow still hunched over his book, his quill poised in his hand, ever ready. The scroll beside him was already halfway filled with his tall, sharp handwriting.
“Found anything useful?” Xandar asked.
Elderon did not look up. “Quite a few things,” he said.
When it became apparent that the drow was not about to elaborate, Xandar shifted his attention to the wardrobe examining the available selection. Many of Erdrik’s books reminded him of the courses he had taken during his final year at the university. These were not mere spell books, but comprehensive resources that explored spell structures, advanced energy manipulation and all the ways one could work with it. Although Xandar would have loved to glance at a few of those, he remained focused on the task at hand.
He stumbled upon a book centered around the fey world, and while he was doubtful about its potential usefulness, decided it was necessary to at least leaf through it for the sake of thoroughness.
Some time after the sun rolled past its zenith and Xandar was able to confirm that indeed, there was nothing of use in the book about the fey world, he looked back at the elf and said:
“I think I found all the spells I could. How about you?”
Elderon sat up sharply and turned to face Xandar. “Quite a few, in fact,” he said.
“Perhaps we should give the books a rest and run through the spells we found so far?” Xandar suggested.
Elderon’s eyes moved from side to side for a moment as he thought the idea over, then he nodded. “Let us begin.”
With the combined spells Xandar had found, the simple translation spell that Elderon wanted to try and the other five he had dug up from the ‘A Call From The Abyss’, they now had a total of nine spells to review.
Xandar reached for his spellbook, where the spell to create an external energy source resided as the very first entry. Although it wasn’t the first spell he had ever learned, he had always transcribed it to the beginning of each new spellbook. The incantation was quick and simple to cast, but required the utmost concentration to avoid any disastrous consequences.
Closing his eyes, Xandar was about to begin reciting the spell when Elderon interrupted him, fixing a suspicious gaze upon him.
“What spell is that?” He asked sharply.
“I’m just creating an external energy source,” Xandar shrugged, “With the number of spells we need to go through, it’s best not to rely on our own energy.”
“I’ve heard about this energy source before,” Elderon noted.
“You mean to say you’ve never used it? So you’ve been relying solely on your own energy?” Xandar asked, incredulous.
A strange smile formed on Elderon’s face, tugging at the corners of his thin lips. “There are other energy sources,” he cryptically replied.
“You’ll have to enlighten me about those sometime.” Xandar said.
“Sometime,” Elderon nodded, his enigmatic smile lingering.
Xandar returned his focus to the spell. He spoke the words - first in his mind and then out loud - and just as when he first conjured it, watched in wonder as the orb of radiant energy materialized in the air before him. Even with his eyes closed, he could perceive the sphere’s intense white light seeping through his eyelids. He felt momentarily blinded by the brilliance upon opening his eyes.
“The trick with the external energy source is to close it properly and on time,” he told Elderon.
The dark elf was captivated as well. “What happens if you don’t?”
“You might destroy the entire world,” Xandar said and when Elderon turned to him with a strange expression on his face, laughed nervously. “Well, at least according to the professor who taught the high-energy class.”
Elderon squinted, a pained expression crossing his face, but he refused to take his eyes off the mesmerizing globe of searing white light.
Xandar couldn’t help but smile at the dark elf’s awestruck expression. “Pretty neat, huh?” He said, “Now all you have to do is connect to it and it will carry the spell you’re casting on your behalf, sparing your own energy.”
Xandar walked over to Erdrik’s desk and picked up the book with the leather cover and strange red markings. Carrying it to his own desk where the energy orb floated, he placed it before them. Perhaps it was his imagination, or the effect of the magical energy saturating the room, but for a split second it seemed to Xandar that the book was heavier than when he first picked it up, as if it was resisting his touch, reluctant to be moved. However the resistance soon dissipated, and Xandar shrugged it off, giving it no further consideration.
Elderon was eager to connect to the orb of energy and experiment with all of the translation spells he knew. Yet none of them yielded any results. After that they took turns, trying out the spells they had picked up from the books. As Xandar had suspected, the spells attempting to reach the higher planes returned empty handed. He had to alter them, of course, combining them with a language detection spell to search for a matching tongue in the realm he was reaching into. But nevertheless, they received no response.
“That’s all I found,” Xandar said when the other spells he had picked up rendered useless as well, “Your turn.”
“With pleasure,” the drow replied. He eyed the energy source with apparent hunger, noticeably struggling against his body’s reaction to the intense light. He shut his eyes tightly and reached one hand towards it.
“Does it feel different than the source you typically use?” Xandar asked.
“Power is power,” Elderon replied, “Though this one has great potential.”
Xandar felt a twinge of unease as Elderon commenced the spell that would search the lower planes. He had witnessed many fellow students experimenting - attempting to communicate or draw power from those realms - but those experiences often ended with unfavorable outcomes. Even though it wasn’t a summoning spell, it involved opening a portal, small as it was, to places where dangerous forces resided.
The familiar scent filled the room, not the odor of sulfur as one might expect, but a strange blend of mold and chamomile. In his mind, Xandar began contemplating all the spells he could employ if something emerged from the portal, absentmindedly clutching and unclutching his fists in an effort to calm his nerves.
Xandar watched as the dark elf’s lips moved, uttering the words of the identification spell, one hand reaching towards the book before them and the other extending towards the globe of energy. He tensed as a thought occurred in his mind. The drow could have been casting an entirely different spell, disguising it as identification, and Xandar would have no way of knowing that until it was too late. He needed to be prepared.
“Anything yet?” Xandar asked when his nerves could no longer withstand the mounting suspense.
“It's still searching.”
“Shouldn’t it be finished by now?”
“There are lots of languages in the lower planes, not just infernal, as some might assume.” Elderon explained, his voice taking a haughty tone.
The smell began to intensify.
“Maybe we should close the portal?” Xandar suggested.
Elderon smirked. “Why? Are you afraid?”
“Well, it’s not the safest endeavor, you know.” Xandar responded, somewhat defensively.
“If we close it now, we won’t have our answer,” Elderon insisted, “Besides, it’s almost-”
But he was unable to finish his sentence.
The combination of mold and chamomile was no longer a distant hint, resembling a herbal infusion that was thrown into a puddle where it began to rot, and became a firm, undeniable presence in the room. The atmosphere grew heavier, pressing down upon them. Everything happened in a whirlwind, and the next instant, before Xandar could react, a voice spoke:
“You again?” it dryly crackled.
Elderon abruptly opened his eyes, scanning the room nervously in search of the speaker.
“What do you want this time?” the voice pressed on, thought, Xandar realized it sounded more tired than angry.
Elderon’s typically sharp voice sounded nervous and feeble. “I didn't mean to disturb your rest,” he said, “I- we’re - trying to identify the language of a book we have.”
“You mean this book?” the voice asked, and suddenly, the book that had been motionless on Xandar’s desk moments ago was now suspended in the air. It lingered there briefly before turning upside down. Invisible fingers opened its pages and Xandar held his breath. Finally, it closed and was placed back on the table.
“So, did you recognize it?” Elderon cautiously inquired.
“It doesn’t say anything,” the voice replied, “The letters I can recognize, but the words are all gibberish. Don’t add up to words. Looks like you got played.”
Elderon looked at Xandar, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted, as if on the verge of speaking.
“Is there anything else you want to ask?” the voice came back, causing Elderon to avert his eyes, “I have company here.”
“No, that is all,” this time Xandar barged in, “Thank you for the help and we humbly apologize for disturbing you.”
“Humbly, pff..” the voice scoffed, and then it vanished, closing the portal behind it with a thud.
For a long moment Xandar and Elderon simply stared at each other, wide-eyed and speechless. Footsteps were approaching.
“Well, at least we made some progress.” Xandar said, breaking the tension. Elderon remained frozen in his place, but his eyes darted anxiously from side to side.
“That was just.. very strange,” he managed to say just as the door to the room swung open, revealing Erdrik.
“What was strange?” He asked casually. Removing his hat, he started walking to his desk when he suddenly paused, sniffing the air and squinting his eyes.
“Did you open a portal here?”
“We were attempting to detect the language across all planes we could find spells for,” Xandar explained.
“I never instructed you to cast these spells.” Erdrik said, his voice abruptly gaining an edge.
“But you said to-”
“I said that we need to scan these books for all the spells to reach other realms, I did not say to cast them. I remember exactly what I said” Erdrik broke in.
“Well, you said we should try,” Xandar tried again.
“Exactly, I said ‘we’, meaning all of us, not just you two,” Erdrik insisted. “I have established structures and safety measures in place for reaching out to other planes. These are practices I have developed and employed for years - proven methods. We cannot simply try spells that may have catastrophic consequences and just hope for the best.”
Xandar decided that it was futile to argue.
“What was done is done,” Elderon concluded. “We can utilize these methods next time, but for now let’s focus on what we have discovered.”
Erdrik’s shoulders appeared to slump momentarily. He walked over to his table and placed his hat and coat on the chair. “Very well, tell me what you found,” he said, turning to them and rubbing his eyes.
It was still bright outside when they completed their work for the day. The sky remained clear, but the sun’s descent toward the horizon imparted a heavier, darker hue. Xandar’s body felt restless, and his mind was numb. He needed a walk to clear his head.
They had been engaged in an argument for a while after Elderon and Xandar informed Erdrik about their findings.
“Did the spell finish running before the demon closed the portal?” Erdrik asked.
“It was nearly complete,” Elderon said.
“Nearly, but not fully.” Erdrik pointed out.
“Wait,” Xandar tried to intervene, “But what if it’s not actually a detection spell that we need? What if the book is protected in some other manner?”
“Trust me,” Erdrik asserted with a tone of finality, “I have seen books that had protection spells on them, and let’s put it this way - if the book were protected, you would have known by now. And besides, we cannot simply assume that the demon was telling the truth.”
Elderon rubbed his chin, “I don’t think he was,” he said ponderously, “But he did recognize the letters, so we must be close.”
This debate carried on for some time until finally they decided to resume their search in the different planes more thoroughly the following day.
Xandar’s first destination was the meadow at the north edge of town. He strolled there for a while, but then, realizing that he had seen plenty of fields for two days, turned and started making his way towards the center of town. He walked for several hours without paying much attention to his surroundings and never trying to tame the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. The walk soon lulled him into a trance-like state, a daydream where his thoughts could wander freely. He only snapped out of it when he realized how hungry he had become.
Xandar decided to visit The Tipsy Horse again. It was a risky choice, considering the possibility of encountering the angry farmer once more, but Xandar didn’t care. The Tipsy Horse was the liveliest inn in town, and he longed to immerse himself in the bustling atmosphere and witness some life around him.
The sun had just begun its descent when Xandar had arrived at the doors of the inn. Inside, numerous vacant tables awaited his selection. A trio of gnomes occupied a table near the far wall, where a small area had been cleared to serve as a makeshift stage. Their musical instruments were arranged nearby, while the musicians themselves sat back, sipping on ale, and patiently awaiting the tavern to fill up in preparation for their performance.
Choosing a small corner table that afforded him a view of the stage while keeping him as inconspicuous as possible, Xandar settled in. As always, he placed an order for a generous plate of roasted potatoes and an oil dripping sausage, accompanied by a large mug of dark, sweet ale. He leaned back, knowing that it would still be some time before the tavern filled and the music commenced. But Xandar was in no rush. The wait provided him with an opportunity to organize his thoughts.
He had just received his food and drink when the tavern doors opened and a group walked in, settling around a large round table at the center of the room. Although recognizing faces wasn’t his strong suit, there was no mistaking the tall, burly warrior with the unusual hilt in his scabbard, the slender elf carrying a bow over her green cloak, or the nimble gnome who promptly approached the musician's table, initiating a lively conversation.