Once more, I look to a past campaign for inspiration. This continues the story of Ashja Mateyus and the city of Port Freehaven.

The following morning, Sister Egathra met them after breakfast.

“Sounds like there was some excitement on the docks last evening,” she said.

“Was there?” asked Rayus, looking around at her companions.

“Aye. I heard some pirate ship caught fire and sank in the harbor.”

“Huh,” said Ivy, turning back to her meal. “I wonder what ship it was.”

Sister Egathra shook her head. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you had nothing to do with it?”

“Ask us no questions…” said Zantu, leaving the rest unsaid.

Sister Egathra looked around the table, then shook her head. “Oh, very well,” she said, “I suppose I don’t really want to know any details.” She sighed once more. “Anyway, I came to tell you that the Abbess is in the temple today. Were you to visit, you might cross paths.” She smiled as she left the Ink Pot.

Some time later, they arrived at the temple. An impressive structure, its vaulted frame soared up at least fifteen man-lengths. Its massive oaken doors stood open, revealing a tiled atrium. Statues of the god Vudan showed this chamber as the center of worship. Ashja gazed up at balconies lined with books, which reached all the way to the painted ceiling. This place looked as much a library as a temple. Rows of silent scholars working on the balconies lent a soft scratching noise to the atmosphere.

“Greetings, greetings,” a young man hurried to meet them. “I’m Tonnor, how may I be of assistance?”

Zantu stepped forward with a slight bow. “I’ve recently visited Mearles, and what I found in the library led me here. Would it be possible to peruse your collection on ancient magicks.”

“Oh, dear,” replied Tonnor. “I’m afraid that will be up to Mother Kafrin.”

“Ah, and is she in residence this day?”

Tonnor looked around, then lowered his voice. “Well, yes, but Mistress Somya keeps her calendar.”

“I see,” Zantu replied. “May we speak with Mistress Somya, then?”

Tonnor shuffled his feet, looking away. “She… she said to tell you she’s in seclusion.”

Ashja raised an eyebrow. “She said to tell ‘us’?”

“Well,” the novice reddened, “she said to tell anyone.”

“I see.” She didn’t, but knew the boy was only following orders.

“Very well, then.”

“What are we allowed to study?” asked Zantu, with barely contained civility. “I was led to understand this library is open for researchers.”

“It… it is.” Tonnor reddened. “It’s just, er, our librarians are quite busy at the moment as one is miss…” he trailed off.

“Oh?”

“Well, yes, you see…” he began.

“Tonnor!”

The young acolyte jumped and turned toward the voice.

“Y-y-yes, Mistress Somya?”

“Attend to your duties, I’ll see to our guests.”

“Y-y-yes, Mistress,” he bowed, backing away, then turning to walk toward the eastern wing.

“Now,” said the tall woman, “how can I help you?”

“You must be Mistress Somya,” said Ashja.

“Yes,” she said with a wary glance. “And you are?”

“Ashja Mateyus, my companions and I had hoped to attend to research here, but understand a librarian has gone missing.”

“Yes, it’s been quite unfortunate,” replied Somya. “Malora is an excellent curator, though she’s made some… poor choices in her time with us. She was absent from the temple for some turns but returned three, almost four seasons ago. Though the scribes tell me they haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”

“Did they say if she was acting strange?” asked Ivy.

Somya turned and said, “Scribe Talus said she looked strained over the past moon, and had been asking some very odd questions. Mother Kafrin had a talk with her, but Talus said it didn’t help much.”

“What was she asking that had everyone upset?” asked Rayus, with a tilt of her head.

“She kept asking about the events leading to her excommunication,” replied Somya. “As if she hadn’t been here herself!” she said with a huff. “No one wanted to talk about how Malora violated the sanctum, but she wouldn’t let it rest.”

“What about Mother Kafrin, what did she say about it all?”

“Well, lately, Malora hasn’t been as precise in her duties. Kafrin told me she warned the girl to pay more attention. The abbess told her to forget the past and concentrate on the present: The events of five years ago are best forgotten by everyone.”

“What about enemies? Did anyone hate Mal?” asked Ivy.

“Not that I know of. She’s certainly well thought of throughout for her scholarship. I don’t know what could happened to her away from Port Freehaven, of course.”

“Why would the Abbess allow her back into the fold if she’d been excommunicated?” asked Rayus.

Somya chuckled. “Well, she’d picked up some very interesting texts and scrolls during her travels. Malora offered to donate them to the temple as a penance. Mother Kafrin accepted the collection as contrition.”

“Can we look these books?” asked Zantu. “Maybe they hold a clue as to what happened to her.”

“I’m sorry, no” she said with a smile that lacked warmth. “Our experts are still evaluating them and checking their authenticity. We haven’t made them public yet. I’m told they should be available next turn.”

“So, why ain’t you looking for your star librarian, if she’s so good?” asked Ivy.

Somya turned to look at her. “Simply put, we don’t have the resources to search for every wayward librarian who fails to appear for her duties,” she said, displeasure lacing her tone. “Besides, we’ve had no reports of foul play. Malora is likely sleeping off a hangover somewhere. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have duties to attend.”

With that, Somya swept out of the atrium.

“Well then,” said Ivy, watching the woman leave. “I don’t like that woman, I dunno that I believe much of what she said.”

“Me either,” said Ashja, “let’s find a smith and get our weapons and armor repaired.”