The Lost Academy of Khazarum - Chapter One: The Riddle's Key

[Ruskin]

When prodded, the lump shifts, and some of the mud that was covering it slides off. It is a small chest. Nassith recognizes it as one of the ones the pony was carrying. It must have fallen off when the beast reared back in its attempt to flee.

[Sannit]

"Hm."  Setting aside his rapier, Nassith lifts the chest from the ground, and inspects the latch, wiping it clean and working to get it open.  ((If it's locked, he applies his thieves' tools for an 18 on his open lock check.  Assuming it's not trapped since it belonged to his friend, for good or ill.))

[Ruskin]

Nassith's sensitive fingers feel the turning and clicking of a few tumblers within the lock, but it resists his attempts to open it.

[Sannit]

((Can I just take 20?  If I do, it gives me a 32 on the check....would that do the trick?))

[Ruskin]

Determined to open the chest, Nassith works away at the lock. His efforts are rewarded by the subtle -click- of the lock opening. Gingerly peeking under the lid, Nassith is greeted by a seemingly random jumble of objects. A pair of the old man's spectacles, a weatherbeaten old map of the world without any labels on it, a small pin, Idogbe's favorite pipe, the scrimshaw and silver one, a packet of finely cut tobacco, a small pouch half-full of coins, a few quills, an inkbottle with a large crack running down the side, a few scraps of blank parchment, a hand-stitched leather bag full of mysterious herbs, and small round mirror.

Meanwhile, Rusk begins to regain some control of limbs. They still feel stiff, numb, and heavy as deadwood, but they are no longer glued firmly to his sides by an invisible force.

[Sannit]

Nassith grins triumphantly, stowing his lock pick back into his cloak.  "These belonged to the old man," he announces, perusing the chest's contents.  "I bet you a few of these things do something...."  Discovering the spectacles, he gingerly removes them from the box and sticks them on his face before looking about at his companions.  "Well?" he asks.  "Am I doing anything magical?"

[Ruskin]

"Erm..."
"Well, you magically seem to appear more intelligent... but I think that's the case with any spectacles..."

((sannit roll a spot check))

[Sannit]

((8.  Apparently I'm trying out glasses I suspect are magical whilst squinting.))

[Sannit]

((Unless of course I can cheat by taking 20 on that, too.))

[Ruskin]

((Nope.))

Sannit peers about, but eventually the glasses start to give him a bit of headache. Other than this, he notices nothing unusual or special about them.

[Sannit]

((But they're magic!  I can tell, because you made me do a spot check, and you wouldn't do that if they weren't magic unless you wanted to fool me into not being sure about whether they're magic or not!))

Nassith removes the glasses, less gently than he had put them on, and puts them back in the chest, next removing the pin.  He examines it closely, wondering if it is a pin for hair, or clothing, or what, and tries it on the appropriate body feature in a likely futile attempt to look stylish.

[Ruskin]

The pin is a delicately-wrought orchid of pure silver, cunningly set with jet and onyx. It is a nearly perfect replica of a flower in full bloom. It looks rather fetching pinned on Nassith's cloak, but such a finely-crafted piece of jewelery would likely look rather fetching pinned anywhere.

Amidan and his brother move over to where Rusk fell. In unison, they each reach a hand out to assist the goliath.
"Are you alright, Rusk?"
"Do you require any healing? I haven't much magic left today, but Oghma willing, I shall do my best."

[krogher641]

Rusk groans ad he slowly moves his limbs, working them back into functionality. He sits, then rubs his biceps back into life. "Excepting my pride, I am unharmed. Damnit! I could barely HIT the man! Any clues as to where he took Johnathan?"

[Ruskin]

Hyram and Amidan's faces are identical masks of sorrow and regret. They shake their heads sadly and say nothing, which is answer enough.

[krogher641]

Rusk's next grumblings were uttered in Gol'Kaa, sounding of angry boulders rumbling down a mountain. His face contorted into a scowl as he stood tall, towering above his companions and re-affixing his axe to his back. Seeing his smaller traveling companion rifling through some trifles, he asks, hopeful, "Have you found something?"