Hi,
Plenty of action this week!
In brief, you hewed apart the zombies and the demon. Ahappi took down 6 of the frigid blue zombies (his and Miguel's) while Miguel nimbly outmanoeuvred them and took down the demon with a brilliant bow-shot. Fraud had kept the demon occupied with Darkstrike spells that blinded it, and he also did some fantastic shield-bashing of the zombies. Boamund's spear made short work of his three zombies soon enough. But Boamund was perturbed that his Shield of Karkovoch seemed to do nothing but momentarily cause the zombies to take notice of it. You played it safe and used firearrows + Boamund's fire-ring to burn the remains, and continued into the forest. Fraud was haunted by creepy memories of his dreams of his brother's taunting undead face, as if it were part of this corrupted old forest, but he shook them off.
You passed more Old Seshnegi ruins, then saw the Library ruins atop a hill again. Nothing had stirred during your short trip- indeed, it barely took an hour to get this far, and soon you were inspecting the ruined gates. It was colder and frostier here, and when Ahappi conjured the gates into physical being with his Darkness spell, they appeared coated in frost; still only existing on your side of the gates-around on the side facing the ruined courtyard, there was nothing but frosty old ruins; the Library did not exist on the mortal plane. His bone-key opened the gates and a terrible gale of flesh-freezing wind came out, but all of you weathered it boldly. And within, again, you saw the dark courtyard of the Library in its own strange sorcerous Node on another plane, which you entered.
The courtyard was much as you'd seen it before, but frozen even moreso than the rest of the Maggotwood. Icicles hung in sinister fashion from every surface, especially the rim of the Library roof by the front double-doors. There were foot, hoof and other (eek) prints in the frost; and blood and other remains. But there was also something very new: throughout the courtyard, twisted ice sculptures stood as morbid decorations. There was a dark humour about them, Miguel soon mused as you walked through and inspected them: each clearly represented a parody of a Giraine personality- colonists, Rokari, Giranois and others… including you, you now saw as you reached the front doors!
Indeed, Miguel mused that there was something about the ice sculpture's blue tint and the broader trend of frost and ice here that there was very ancient magic at play here-magic from the Ice Age, when the vast Valind's Glacier grew southwards to encompass the Malkioni homeland of Danmalastan. The Empire of Chir; led by Blue Vadeli sorcerors; had brought about that Ice Age (a good read: <a href=“http://glorantha.tumblr.com/post/104733087463/who-are-the-vadeli-what-was-the-empire-of-chir” target=“_blank”>Who are the Videli. What was the Empire of Chir.</a>d… and this magic was redolent of their infamous power. You shivered more profoundly than before, as he told you of his idea!
Ahappi stabbed his foul “filleted” sculpture and it shattered with an icy shriek; nothing further happened. The courtyard was still, silent and foetid of air. It was colder still than elsewhere and in time it would freeze all of you (except Boamund, who felt comfortable) if you lingered. You forced open the frozen doors and walked into the frosty main corridor, where it was much as you'd left it years before (sans monsters pounding at the doors- for now!). You opened the doors on the right side of the corridor that led into the Waiting Room and again saw the “Greeter” skeletal figure (an Old Seshnegi Zzaburi, surely), the black-blood/bile-spewing robed figure of a zombie in what may have been Old Seshnegi robes of a Talari noblewoman… and then, seated with her reading a black book at a table, was the undead ghoul of Lynistor Shaven! He and the woman looked up at you, with his eyes pausing on Fraud Shaven, then they returned to their reading.
The Greeter held up its bronze staff and, rasping in its dry breath, welcomed you as visitors to “The Psychetheca Everlasting”-hmmm, that was familiar. Maybe it had come up before here in commotion; later, if you survive, you recall Embullian the Clean describing a dream he had of playing in a pile of leaves like a child, and that strange phrase echoing in his mind. So that must be the real name of “the High Necromancer's Library”… And soon its deeper meaning became evident. While Fraud and Lynistor traded glares and soon the latter came forward to taunt him and then Miguel, speaking of how “The Master” (Yomil the necromancer as per your last visit, and encounter with Him in Hell) would make good use of you as his flayed property, Ahappi requested a book from the Greeter. He asked for the final diary of Yomil. That grey-skinned, Darkness and Truth-rune-decorated tome (was that bound in trollskin??) came on a tray provided by “the Scrivener”, the whispering mecha-magical-undead thing with a body attached to an extra set of human-ish legs.
Ahappi read its title as “The Official Records of The Psychetheca Everlasting” and spoke aloud, remembering how the library's “loans” worked (each visitor could ask for one book and then interview it, asking one question that would be answered in writing that appeared within). He got his response at some length: after the few blood-written pages that the book allowed him to read, he learned some important information. The Psychetheca Everlasting serves as the “eternal record of minds, souls and flesh in service to the Master [i.e. the book collection is skinned, bound bodies and minds/souls of former patrons and prisoners-each one forever in an undead binding!], and to provide a pathway to the powers of Hell -But now that this knowledge is thine, it cannot leave here and neither can thee. Ye shall be welcome additions to the collections of the Psychetheca Everlasting.” Oh shit!
The Greeter waved its staff ceremoniously, welcoming you patrons to turn over your bodies and souls to The Master as new additions to its collections. And so events slid hellbound. You continued to do your best to be peaceful patrons; Fraud held back from attacking Lynistor while Miguel turned the disarmed Lynistor's envenomed rapier into a bronze “doorstop” to hold the doors, as bonechilling howls came from out in the courtyard. Howls of former patrons who now sought your flesh! The noblewoman-zombie launched herself furiously at Ahappi, who knocked her away until he'd had enough and pierced her through the head, releasing her from eternal servitude. And soon Fraud Shaven stopped turning the other cheek and hewed his brother down, after enduring spells of blinding and nausea and other newly displayed talents-the years spent in study here had given Lynistor frightening black magicks! Two flayed ghoul-things ran in through the front doors of the library and Ahappi/Boamund took them down speedily. Miguel managed to hold the Waiting room's back door with the doorstop and furniture, while more ghoul-things/“bookgivers” bashed at it.
That was only the prelude to horrors that you feared would come, as before. The Greeter and Scrivener had retreated into the library Collection with the Psychetheca book. Fraud, however, had retained the “Of Bloode Dranke and Spil'd” black book (decorated with Darkness and Undeath runes; you'd seen it in the same place on your last visit) that his brother had been taking lessons from. Ahappi, hearing more threats coming from every direction, held the doorway from the corridor into the Waiting room, soon joined by Boamund. Miguel drew his bow and Fraud stepped over his brother's body to help. But the doors to the Collection had been kicked open by Ahappi. Within that second triangular room stood the Greeter, Scrivener and the cruel “Bookmaker” (zombie-ish, metal-studded, torturer/flayer of the Library, who'd almost taken Fraud Shaven captive on your last visit), warding the Collection.
Then through the back wall, a sinister spiritual form glided nonchalantly; raising long arms and fingers that seemed to drip like liquid darkness as it conjured wicked black sorceries. It was the remnant of Yomil the High Necromancer, recognizable from your nearly fatal encounter with its manifestation as you tried to exit Hell with the resurrected “New Froalar”/Fraud Shaven. (And was it actually a Blue Vadeli, not the Godlearner necromancer everyone had thought it was!?)
Yomil was ready to accept its donations of new patrons to the cause of The Psychetheca Everlasting! Two bookgiver-ghouls rushed in the front doors and the back doors were flung open by roaring, hissing creatures. Surrounded, you were ready for a desperate fight! Could you escape; did you have enough of a trophy now to satisfy the ever-demanding Giranois?
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