A clamminess completes the foggy night sky of Karg, refuge of Il Aluk’s intellectual schools of thought. But your journey has lead you to a simple building, hiding place of a scribe in service to Azalin Rex himself. In lieu of recent events, Toubirj the Quickened Hand has found himself waiting the darklord returning to “normalcy”. But, a network of underground thieves, vindictive academics and disgruntled mages has lead you to an otherwise humble abode. A short, meek and disheveled looking man answers, his ill-fit body frame moving like a tower of junk ready to topple. A gangly left arm extends to usher you inside quickly, as he soon slams the door and closes several locks. And with a few muffled words and motions, a spell further seals the way out. Shuffling to a chair, he lurches over while placing his head upon his hands. He studies you, inquisitively before cracking a smile. Rather than speaking, he simply hands over a piece of parchment.
“Hail to you, reader. You sought this scroll expecting that strange bard, yes? Pity, he still has not been found. I am but a humble scribe, commissioned by his mighty majesty, Azalin. Divination boons have gifted me with the joys of deeper knowledge, if only to satisfy my liege. While he has returned to a period of deep contemplation, I continue to collect and gather. Times in Darkon have been an overflowing cauldron, bubbling and dripping, awaiting tipping point. That time is passing, as my master returns to dark recesses. Should you have particularly juicy information, less vulnerable information can be extended in trade… Just, do it quick. I know he listens, my arcane senses have made this known! But, you care for Ramon. Luckily, I have a few of his journals in my possession. Allow to extend some of his knowledge to you. But first, I simply desire to know what you offer in return.”
The frail and strange man finally opens his mouth, “Well, I’m waiting. If you’re here, you have good information to share.” He taps his fingers together, expectantly. Reaching into your bag, you open a carrying case for various parchments, handing them in the direction of the squat man. His grin widens as he gracefully accepts the documents. Scanning them in rapid pace, he quickly jumps between pages of notes. “Ah, this will do well. First edition notes from the bard. Let me offer some fine bits of my own in return. And mark my words, we are safe from interlopers. Do not fear these secrets being overheard… save for by his highness. That isn’t an issue, is it?”
Author’s Note: Am I done with Ramon? What does the future hold in general? I’m still not sure with either. In the meantime, let’s return to various domains of dread. And with that, plenty of secrets and rumors!