The three adventurers strode up to the rusted iron gates of the hospital in the city of Riverhaven. “This must be the place,” said Tirost. He knocked, and two orderlies appeared.

“Do you have an appointment,” asked one of the orderlies, a young elven woman with beady black eyes. Tirost glanced at Oscearo. She frowned slightly, pursing her lips, before stepping forward with raised chin and stating authoritatively, “We do not. We would like to speak with -”

“No visitors without an appointment,” was the curt reply.

Tirost frowned, as Oscearo looked distinctly miffed. “It's important,” said Tirost.

“If it was so important,” replied the orderly, “then you should have made an appointment. Good day.”

Tirost muttered something unprintable, and Oscearo's frown darkened like a summer storm. Just as the orderlies began to turn away, the third adventurer stepped forward, and pulled back the hood of her silken cloak to reveal long strawberry colored hair, that glinted like gold in the sun.

“Hodierna's mercy! That's...” began the elvish orderly. “That's Kaelie Rudeone!” shouted the other orderly, a young Toggish man, who quickly began to fumble with the large brass key ring around his waist.

“I would very much appreciate the opportunity to speak with Horace P. Applescott,” said Kaelie, referencing the name from the journal that had recently been decoded. The orderlies looked at each other a moment.

“He is no longer the head empath here,” replied the elvish orderly.

“I see,” replied Kaelie. “Surely you have records and notes on each patient treated here? My companions and I would like to see them.” The two orderlies nodded, and the Toggish orderly opened the gates and brought the three adventurers inside. Tirost and Oscearo glanced at each other, and followed Kaelie and the orderlies to Applescott's old office.

After several anlas of searching in the dim, dusty office, long since abandoned and largely untouched since the departure of its previous tenant, Oscearo finally broke the monotonous sound of flipping parchment. “Here is a thing which may be of use,” she said.

Tirost and Kaelie stood beside her, as she read from a dusty notebook, “'Lasika seems to have become fascinated with the Olvi patient, the one who calls herself Bellula. They have been whispering a great deal during meal times, which is highly unusual for both patients. I shall have to order another thorough search of Lasika's room, and have her mane shaved again.'” Oscearo stared at the notebook in such a way as to suggest that its opacity constitued a deep and personal offense to her, before lifting her gaze above the rim of her spectacles to peer at the others.

“Bellula? Does that name mean anything to you?” asked Tirost. Oscearo frowned at him as if the answer to this question must be perfectly obvious, and shook her head in exasperation. Kaelie shrugged.

“Well it seems you've found Horace's notes regarding Lasika and her treatment, at least. Think you can get them to allow us to take these with us, Kae?”

Kaelie merely smiled. She turned gracefully, and, in a courteous yet commanding voice, told the orderlies that they had found what they were looking for, and they required a number of notebooks to be used in the Crossing Empath's Guild, to be returned at a future date. The orderlies nodded their assent.

As the adventurers made their way through the hall leading back toward the gate, the Toggish orderly turned to Kaelie and sheepishly asked, “I heard a song once that you ran Geva out of the Crossing. Did you really see her?”

“A song, eh? Filthy bards, I probably wro-” Tirost's words became a gasp for air, as he doubled over. Oscearo had deftly slammed an elbow into his abdomen.

“Yes, I did,” replied Kaelie with a soft smile, “just before Mazrian ended her life.” The orderlies gazed at Kaelie in awe, as the adventurers passed through the rusted iron gate onto the street leading back to the ferry.

---

[Please come by the secluded corner of the Arthe Hollow Inn on Sunday, 6/24 at 9pm EST if you'd like to help in the search for pieces of what might be Voclaf's circlet! All are welcome!

The following was written collaboratively by the players of Tirost, Oscearo and Kaelie.]