Chronicles XII: Poisoned Relationships and Change of Nations.

In the darkest of days, things never seemed this bleak. To the north,
wizards gallivanting about as though they were human, to the south,
barbaric rituals of blood and mutilation, to the west, the Great Queen
was exterminating thousands of men who could challenge her infant
child’s Royal claim, and to the east, mobs of starving urchins rule the
streets. King Decker has retired to his den of sin and intrigue,
leaving the most unprepared of stewards to manage his kingdom. All the
while he dwells, in the bed of his wife, brooding over the welfare of
his infant daughter. These days she moves and scoots and has the
appearance of a healthy child, except for that dull listless stare of
the haunted. Drifting in like a thief into the chamber the King hears,
no feels, the primal corruption of the air. It pulsates like an
infected wound. It reeks of tainted coppery blood and puss, and
illness. The perimeter guards are found all be inverted, their skin
peeled back like an onion. The carnage that litters the streets of
children and peasants permeates the senses. The damage to the buildings
and to the gates denotes only one thing, the Baron has returned, and the
toll will be paid in pain. The King crumples to the street, coagulated
blood and entrails soiling his robes. The perfumed haze that hangs
about his head is sped away by a breeze and replaced by the foul
combination urine, feces, and rancid meat. None who saw the advancing
army, had the time to raise a call to arms, nor the time to flee.
Under the cover of darkness, the warm winds and new moon prevented all
from seeing, the greatest feat of magic in recent memory. There was the
day that Smitty the Slah Kar rapped upon the doors of the Unseen
Library, and it was hallow. Hundreds of thousands of years of
history…gone, in but a few scant hours.
It was coming upon one of the Jester’s favorite times of the year. The
Feast of the Hallowed and he wanted to return to Boones, where the
festival was known to be the most blissful three days that anyone could
endure. Upon his arrival though…he was stunned to find that Errien had
retired to his summer cottage, as the office had become too much for him
(though there is local gossip that he had taken up with an enchantress
and that he was “indisposed” more often than not.) To replace him,
Duhnk, Brand and Di’Rand had developed a ruling triumvirate and had
divided Boones into three districts, each with a Governing Marshall.
All was going well, the Jester and company was feasting, with wine,
women, and song, when they were visited with a vision of a witch and
poisonous monkeys. They took it quite well, all things considered.
The Jester returned to his humble abode and promptly moved, this time
having found a quiet grove on the north side of the Port City. He and
the Ars had agreed that if there were ever a threat to the Library that
this place would be the new haven. As it was to the Jester’s way of
thinking…if you couldn’t find the Library, who could threaten it? As he
was returning from Boones he was horrified to find that his hideaway had
been invaded by thousands of books, stacked as high as the walls and as
far as the eye could see. The Ars returned to find his neatly stacked
books having been pushed up against one wall and the Jester’s rucksack
on the floor. The Ars having been tipped off by the prophetic ratings
of Gef’Rey the Pious, the Ars saw the need to uproot the Library with
the aid of K’Abe, who single-handedly hefted two great bookcases upon his
back and carried them into the new Library.
The Ars and the Jester thought it wise to invest in future protection
for the Library. They concealed this location far more adequately then
the first one and the Ars did not allow so many people to gain access to
the stacks. Although with Gef’Rey committed, it has become necessary
for the Ars to find a new attendant to care for the Library in his
absence, until that time, he is never far from it.
Ramierez and Murrin, it is rumored, are to be making an appearance at
the Library soon, to pay homage and weave wards of protection against
Baron Saing.
News that Dar Benedict has been seen once again in Gothex fled north to
the Jester's ears only to be compounded with the fact that apparently
he had slipped a hallucinogenic herb into Marshall Duhnk's drink and
that the Marshall is not well. If there is any news of the Dar's
whereabouts he is to be "interviewed" in Boones.

In happier news:
The Jester and the Ars are to put on the Festival of First Snow in the
coming week’s end.

All are welcome, if they agree to put aside their differences, weapons,
magicks, and intrigues for a night of entertainment, which includes a
Minstrel of some renown who may play for the merriment for the crowds,
a feast for Kings (no disrespect intended), and a show of shows. Feel
free to correspond if the fancy strikes you to be entertained for a few
hours. There will also be a juggler, card games, and infant tossing,
so….come one come all!