[i]
Gramps.
Cleric.
Uncle.
[/i]

Three names he had been referred to, and yet none so far called him by name. Either he had fallen into obscurity, or perhaps the young ones cared not to know him. Which was all well and good, let the fate of the world rest on the shoulders of the young and able, and less people pestering him for this or that. But it appeared everyone was keen on two things. The first was the division of heroes as Kethan had suggested, the second was that there was no reason to rush so eagerly into certain doom. They had only heard of the threat, but neither knew the whereabouts or the specifics. Thus far no dissent within the group, even the rascal that Kethan planned to keep a close eye on during their travels. The two younger men that would accompany them the old cleric had little familiarity of, for the tales of modern young dashing heartthrob heroes are not for saintly scholar. Nor are the tales of wizened old men for the young impressionable women, although the surprisingly affectionate squeeze Kethan found suddenly wrapt around his old bones was comforting. [color=DEAD2B]"Indeed, Lady Mavros, if only the circumstances weren't so dire. Sir Lakeltia but I fear the Gods have spoken. What Tyr and Valkur may not know, perhaps my goddess Ioun can divine. Yet I am not ready to come before her insight, not without an attempt to gather the information myself as her follower."[/color]

Gifts for gifts in kind. It seemed only Kethan presented the Dukes with a small token of court etiquette. For now the favour was returned, with fine earpieces of many colors. To which Kethan gave a bow of his head as elder fingers uncurled to select such a device. Though he did not clip it on instantly, instead placing it in a side compartment of his pack with the other enchanted items he acquired over the years. There was no need for them to have such relays at this moment, although they would make the battlefield communications much more effective. The sending stones perhaps the paladin would find better use for if not the demon huntress. The crystal ball perhaps best to the elf woman who introduced herself, for Kethan and Marcus had other means of divination. Ellenara Ann'leah, where did he know that name from? It mattered not, they would know each other soon enough by rubbing elbows. How blessed are elves and their legendary longevity, and youthful beauty. And as for the deck of cards that carried the warning of Ada, Kethan was instantly wary of their power, though unsure of their exact nature like several others, the cleric had the wisdom to avoid tempting fate. Sure there were fabricated tales of legendary hopes being nothing but a false promise, some made to inspire courage and valor within the heart of one who thought to use such a boon. But more often than not, such relics are a box of pandemonium, bearing both curses and blessings in ill proportions. Place your faith not in these, but the Gods. And if the gods themselves fail...

[color=DEAD2B]"Ah, no, no, Miss Ann'leah, such an item is left best in the hands of Lady Mavros. I have no use for a deck of cards, not one with such arcane power. Youself, my dear, may however benefit from the Crystal Ball. Ioun bestows upon me my vision. And besides, I entrust the safety of Lady Mavros to you and your party, although she is no delicate flower..."[/color]

And as the old folks chatted away in their wisdom, a fool had challenged fair warning. The rapscallion bard, of which Ada had hinted at knowing the true nature of his being, had drawn a card from the deck. The test subject was rewarded at once, as reality seemed to shift maliciously. A disturbance felt by all those in the room as the legendary relic was invoked: Talons. Instantly did the card vanish, and so too did the items the bard had carried, his weapons and cloak disintegrating, his armor wisped away like smoke leaving him bucknaked to pick up the scattered remains of his bag of holding. Such indecency, although Kethan had no reason to stop and stare, he could only hope the bard had had some manners to cover himself before Lady Mavros. Such ruination of a hero, stripped of his treasured items, how a benefiting fate to see a thief scramble to collect his odds and ends. Justice it seemed, for one who intended to steal with so already so much, now how the fates had stolen from him. it is as they say: A fool and his money...

Thus with a knowing smile Kethan's staff clicked once more into the rhythm of his waltz. He could attempt to reverse the events that had occurred, but there was no treasure greater than wisdom. There was a lesson to be learned here, and the cost of tuition was merely his worldly possessions and not his life. Had he died in such a time of crisis, Kethan would have attempted to intervene given the divines had chosen for this other human to journey forth on this quest. Now, then the library awaits, as they all passed from the courtyard into the hall of Mavros. The gilded faces of ancient rulers looked down upon them, possible saviors of the kingdom they once lost. A nod towards the Duke on his throne within his throne room, yet the greatest room in Kethan's view came past the side door that Ada led them. There the familiar sight of shelves and musty tomes, scattered and littered about the desks. There another old bookkeeper came bowing towards them, as proper as every library has its guardian no matter how great or small the collection. To which Kethan, a familiar figure amongst bookkeepers and scholars, knew just who the bespectacled half elf was.

[color=DEAD2B]"Ghouls Kings and Dragons, Lawrence. [i]Whites[/i] in particular."[/color] Ah the emphasized wit, although wights were not ghouls per say, the humor should not be missed by his elderly colleague. [color=DEAD2B]"Anything you have on the demon Orcus and his undead servitors, the more obscure the better. Cast a wide net, perhaps a compendium of demons and undead, but anything you suggest Lawrence. Geography of the northern mountains would also be appreciated, both modern and ancient maps please. And how was that chapter of the manuscript on I had sent forward to you? I had to make sure the Grand Librarian of Mavros had seen it before the writer publishes such history of the Verraryne region.[/color]