Darkveil City was built in the last half-century by coalitions of clans and families looking to disconnect themselves from the mainland. Using the defense of the mountains and the volcano, the city is left independent and allowed to its own devices. While a thriving city, it is mainly known for its black market and under-the-table trades. One of the oldest buildings and well-visited by all scholars is the Avant-garde Athenaeum. This large and well-built building houses some of the oldest known scrolls and books of the Ash Lands. Sarne had just arrived at the invitation of a friend. Darkveil City was much different from the last place he saw Dante in the Frost Gale.

Landing the sound of Screech caught some attention. There were not a lot of Terror Birds used as mounts and for most people feared them for a good reason. Screech let out some screams when a Darkveil lizard-like creature came too close as Sarne dismounted Screech looking for Dante. it hissed then ran in another direction.

Seeing Dante Sarne walked his direction "Dante! Friend! how are you." Sarne said loudly to get his attention. getting closer "So I hear you want my help with something?" asked Sarne with an inquisitive tone.

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Quest Name: Nose in a Book
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere (libraries)
Post Requirements: 4 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: The world is starting to warm up to the idea of Scern's story being truthful, at least to some degree. Many still can't fathom how they were able to be tricked for so long by an imposter god and had absolutely no idea about Vulcadreaus. Scholars are starting to realize they know very little about Charon's true history and are now asking for help from the public. People have begun to pour over old texts, study forgotten scripts, and attempt to find any information that would help shed light on the world’s current situation. You are being asked to study old texts from libraries or book collections around Charon, hoping to find any clues to help explain things. (No information is found, however.)

Dante had spent days and nights trying to clean up as much of his home city as he could. The scars ran deep, and it felt as if it would never be complete. He’d awaken and swear there were more cracks, more rubble, more collapsed buildings, more broken glass, and more twisted and half melted garbage from the fallout of the ensuing battle. It made him feel small, made him feel all his words were naught but hot air and pomp, that no encouragement or kindness could withstand the onslaught of suffering that the dragon had caused. Dante had taken a break from the crowds and settled on the books. He doubted there would be anything, but his research had to start somewhere, and he had to rule out any of the available texts here before he could move onto other clues. He needed help, but he wanted someone he was confident didn’t have any connections to the city or Vulcadraeus.

When he heard Screech land, he set aside the scrolls he was working on and walked out onto the broken stone stairs. “Sarne it’s good you came. Do come inside please.” He would shut the doors in behind them and turn to regard the man. He said, “It’s not the most glorious of tasks, but it’s vital nonetheless. I need another pair of eyes to help sift through some of these tomes to find any evidence of a cult of Vulcadraeus. I can’t trust any of the locals since any of them could be involved, but I suspected you were disconnected enough from the events that it couldn’t possibly have involved you.” He smiled and sighed, sitting at a desk and said, “I hope this isn’t too boring or a waste of time for you. I’ll understand if you have other matters to attend to, but any help I can get is greatly appreciated I assure you.”

Sarne smiled seeing his friend He gave a nod in reply making sure Screech was leashed He gave the Terror Bird a treat and a good pat on the neck and walked in side. up a set of stone stairs that had seen better days. the cracks ran up and down the stairs creaked as he walked up them Sarne wondered if they would hold his weight. Following Dante into a room maybe an office it was let us say need of repair.

Everything in the room was dusted off but still had the look of being repaired. Sarne watched Dante sit at a desk that had different piles of scrolls, tomes, and sand tablets. Dante had to been hard at work researching something. Sung had set his helm and and taken off his gauntlets and set them on a little table nearby while Sarne was listening to Dante.

Sarne chuckled "Never a dull time with you around Dante," said Sarne looking over some of the stuff on the desk. "I just hope I paid enough attention in my language lessons," Sarne jested, now looking at a scroll. "So, what are we looking for?" asked Sarne looking over the Scroll sitting on a nearby chair.

Dante tapped the papers on the desk and said, "I'm flattered that you're excited, really I am. Our task is one of research. Vulcadraeus came to be from a cult known as the Ashen Fathers. Apparently not to be confused with the Ashen Fathers that control the city. I haven't ruled them out as having a hand in things, but you can imagine the confusion. Either way, I wanted to find out more about how this horrible calamity came to be. To do that, I need to look up all the records there are concerning Vulcadraeus and his cult. I won't lie, I don't suspect I'll find much here. But I need to start somewhere, and with any luck we'll find some sort of clue. If not, at least we can rule out these tomes and scrolls as a source of information. Even failure brings us closer to the truth."

He gestured to the stacks of scrolls and books and said, "I've organized the sources by language as well so if you know any particularly esoteric languages that are beyond the pale, feel free to apply your acquired knowledge. We're looking for any information regarding the Ashen Father cult and/or Vulcadraeus himself. Even if it seems like a minor and miscellaneous detail, we should record it. We're grasping at straws so be prepared for long, arduous reading."

He chuckled and said, "Now I understand how those scribes get hunchbacks. Sitting over these desks are a hidden torture I tell you."

Sarne stared at all the scrolls and tomes for a moment "Ya right find something about Ashen Father cult and Vulcadraeus himself in all that." stated Sarne picking up another scroll. "I hope you have a lot of Ale. This is going to cost you probably your whole supply and a few nice women would not be too bad either. This could take a while." suggested Sarne with a sly grin. His tone was more joking than serious.

"I will start on this pile here. I guess it is as good as any place to start besides I can read it," said Sarne starting to unroll it. "wait I can read this" commented Sarne looking frustrated. "Oh," he chuckled "upside down. That's why I guess I was never a scribe," says Sarne turning it around.

Sarne was quiet reading through the Scroll. "Hmm... did you know the leader of the can't get married? That is not too good of a job for me. I even have some names here but it looks like there are only Ashen Father cult-given names." Comments Sarne still reading "I think I am going to get dumber by reading this scroll" joked Sarne. The scroll was old almost to old with some of the writing fading and some of the scroll turn and pieces missing.

Dante chuckled and said, "Yes it's ironic how a scribe's duties might lead to idiocy. Still, it's the quiet, unappreciated work that often is the vehicle of change. But you don't see anyone waving banners and celebrating them at parties. I thought of throwing such folk a party, but they seem a bit introverted and overwhelmed. I like to think I'm exceptional at peeling off wall flowers, but given current events I'm afraid such plans will have to be put on hold for the moment. Nothing stifles a gala quite like a dead dragon god."

He would look through a few more scrolls and added, "The most frustrating part is there is a high probability that their rituals and religious culture is probably an oral tradition. Think about it: you are part of an ancient order of cultists dedicated to a god no one knew the name of a year ago. Why would you leave a paper trail? Writing things down simply increases the odds if not outright guarantees that someone would find it. At this point we're just hoping to find any old fool who thought writing in code would be crafty enough or is just an idiot all around. It doesn't bode well, but need to be sure."

He did smirk when he mentioned the leaders not marrying. He said, "Well I'll hold onto the cold comfort that these cretins are reproducing like rats. Though knowing my luck they probably found a loophole in order to procreate. What a truly cursed way to be born into this world."

Sarne listened as Dante explained things. Only if Sarne had been raised in this area He might know more thought Sarne. Putting down the scroll and picking up a tome. He started to look through it as well knowing the language is one thing but not the culture Sane could miss things. But Sarne wondered if Dante was right about the religious cult being an oral tradition.

With that thought, sarne started to see a pattern in the writing when things started to refer to things from Vulcadraeus and the cult Ashen Fathers. everything is just dead ends yes some names come and go but no trail to follow. Sarne paused looking up and looked at a few more scrolls then tomes. "Look, I think we might be working on this or looking at some clues wrong," commented Sarne. "Let us not look at language pacifically look at scribes," said Sarne laying out a few things.

"Scribes can write and translate in many languages. What the scribe seems to know the most is a better question. So if the same scribe keeps coming up then we could maybe find something. I wonder if Vulcadraeus is so old that language was not written yet. If Vulcadraeus was a god then how old is Vulcadraeus? Could be before written language so the religious records would be oral tradition." Sane said now looking through tomes. eyewitness accounts are what we are missing. There is a chance that it was destroyed when the mountain or Vulcadraeus and the cult Ashen Fathers Temple got destroyed," remarked Sarne starting a new stack of tomes and scrolls.

Dante sighed and pinched his nose as he went through yet another tome that revealed nothing. Sarne was right to think they were going about this the wrong way, and he felt some guilt in recruiting him to a losing battle. But it was one that had to be fought to eliminate any doubt on the source. Dante shook his head and said, “I’m sure the author is as important more so than the script. Historical perspectives and what not. At this point the task is merely protocol to eliminate possibilities, to render our theory more credit through the absence of evidence in the written word. And if this god was present in such an ancient era then that renders this task more pointless. Still, as enticing as our theories are, we must be vigilant and complete the work. I agree, it will probably render nothing, but even that tells us something. And hey!”

He gave a weak smile and said, “All the better right? If the cult died with Vulcadraeus I mean. If the worst outcome is we wasted a whole afternoon, I can die with no regrets. No necromancer could stir my slumber, I would sleep so peacefully.”

One scroll after another and tomes one by one all very old it was sometimes hard to work with the parchment and not have it tare or just turn to dust. The Leatherbound tomes The leather would just crack it was so dry. Sometimes when Sarne would pull the scrolls out of their case they would come out in pieces. Sarne felt more like a scribe trying to save the parchment than researching it. The time went past slowly as the day wore on Dante did give some ale and cheese to eat and drink as the day passed.

Sarne was getting to the end of his pile of scrolls and tomes his head heart his eyes were tired he was at the end of his patience with all of this now he understood why his grandfather hated to go over the reports and soon it would be Sarnes turn spending all day in his office going over everything and deciding what action to take.

Thinking on what Dante said Sarne sighed as well. Looking through the next few scrolls and a tomes. "Nothing here either. I mean this is not even close it references some magic that could have come from the cult and I mean could be the cult. I see we are running in circles here I think you are right all we can do is eliminate the stuff we have here and hope for something to give us a lead on the information." said Sarne taking a sip of ale. "what do you have for dinner I think we will be at this into the late-night, " asked Sarne knowing Dante can cook much better than him.

Dante closed a thick tome and let it plop with a heavy thud onto the desk, dust still kicking up despite its very recent and prolonged used. He was almost startled by Sarne’s voice with how quiet it had been for the last few hours. He sighed with relief and said, “I think we’re at our wits end old top. I think that dinner sounds just grand. In fact, I think a good drink would help wash it down quite well.” He didn’t wait for his agreement, implicitly assuming he would be on the same page (no pun intended). He grinned and said, “I think I recall a restaurant that comes with dinner… and a show.” He winked and said, “I think you’ll find it quite entertaining. The belly dancers are very much more authentic than those crass reimaginings elsewhere. Come, let’s make it a night. My treat for torturing so thoroughly for an afternoon.”

Dante would slink off into the streets with Sarne to enjoy said dinner and a show. To the surprise of literally no one involved, much of the dancers were fellbloods, the drinks were cheap, and the hookahs always smoldering their euphoric haze.