Return To The Hall Of Archives

[*Rainbow Prism]

At later time, when semblance of stability returned to the Academy, the female came into the armory, meeting one of the archivist checking the body. It was hard to get all information on dead written in Records with Dustmen having monopoly on gathering of bodies. Approaching scribe, namer tapped the shoulder with finger, pointing at door.

"Little investigation. Nothing you're going to like, quill-monkey."

With these words, she took out a curved dagger and approaching the corpse on slab. With certain pompousness, she quickly tore off the shirt, the blade gently touching flesh, leaving thin marks on cold chest, as if she wanted to divide the pork for the feast. With a sugary smile, petite drow regarded the sage.

"This is gonna be a little messy. Better leave the room, so that these parchments would not have spleen or guts on them."

[*Selebius]

"Enter.", the Kobold says, his voice tired but still showing some strenght.

**********************************************************

"...."

The scribe nods quickly and follows her advice, gathering his paers and quill and hurrying out of the room.


(( Heal please and of she looks for magical traces spellcraft as well. )))

[*Rainbow Prism]

\\Spellcraft:1d20+22
17+22 = 39

Heal:1d20+2
1+2 = 3
\\


Right after the scribe went out, the weapon was back in sheathes and there was a thorough check of the body. She wondered if she could find some kind of clue before attempting to bring the man back to life.

[*Selebius]

The man's body seems to be mostly intact and she cannot find any signs of corruption- perhaps the possessing hollow has not been inside this host long enough.

She is not able to determine the cause of death.

[*Rainbow Prism]

Not feeling any residual energies, Sill supposed that nothing could stop attempt to return life. Except for few things.
Like lack of thing to return.

The diamond dust gleamed in the air, long chanting calling forth the powers of divine to bring the soul back to this body. Is was contrasting speech of whispers and shrill yells, using verses of elven language. The hands glowed, suffused with positive energy ready to push life.

Provided the soul wanted to return.

[*Selebius]

The body jerks, the dust is consumed in golden light that surrounds and permeates the body and when it is gone Sill feels something following her call, something setlling into this shell once again.

Opening the eyes the man looks around- somewhat dazed, confused and even a bit scared.

"What happened? Where have I..... Olidamarra help me! Where have I been?!"

[*Tomekk]

Ra enters Goldscales' office, taking a seat and straight to the point explaining his idea.

"We have found nearly thirty or zho worthy warriors, including spellweavers, in zhe Academy's training hall... my plan is to set up security points at every entrance into zhe Hall of Records, with zheir own Cerulean Sign casting and muscles to keep zhe enemy at bay once discovered. But, to furhter motivate zhem, either we have to pay zhem... or make zhis service a requirement to pass their entry exam at zhe Academy, wouldn't you agree?" He smiles at the kobold, patiently waiting for the elder one's wise response.

[*Selebius]

The old Kobold listens and the thin, horny lips of his draconic head form a small smile.

"Make it so. Let me know when you need more ressorces to buy more wands or permanent items."

He looks up to the drow then goes on:

"You are in charge of this operation. Make us proud and show Sigil that the Fated are a power to be respected."

Returning to his neverending paperwork the Kobold hands a stack of papers to a small tiefling girl with long, twisted upper limps, the woman hurrying off quickly to deliver the writings.

"I make sure the Duke will know your name, Raz'eth of the Fated."

[*Rainbow Prism]

Hiding her pouch with spellcasting ingredients, drow darted to the door, calling out.

"We have a live one! Bring cleric here!"

Then, white teetch contrasyed against the dark skin of the elf.

"Hi, namer. Remembering anything?"

[*Selebius]

He tries to sit up but fails, his muscles still too weak, his control of his resurrected body still not firm enough.

So he stays where he is, his voice slowly getting stronger as he speaks.

"It fades quickly. I was in many places at once, most of those I cannot identify. A few places I know.. the Hall of records, the bazaar, the small cafe in the clerk's ward.. what was its name? I cannot remember...


And there were voices, many voices all speaking at once. It felt like I was many little parts or perhaps part of a crowd or... I do not know."