Chapter 3-85: Debts and Desires (1/2)

The lads stacked up the Disk The Mick had brought up with books and various sorts of bric-a-brac that got someone’s attention, and we got out of there after thoroughly looking to see if there were any hidden chambers or trap doors or something... which I blew another Detect on making sure were non-existent.

Master Fred took the GPD, and as we walked back to where Bone Marrow was parked, he dialed up Gregorigori and handed the phone to me.

“Sum it up, lass,” the gnome told me in anticipation.

“Vylstrigroi plague-spreader, dead. Reclaimed, anti-Div necklace, Einz-level Dagger. One Cursed Scroll designed to turn Powered into undead, the cause of his Vampirization. Sixty-two different Tomes or equivalent sources of knowledge, several random objects of macabre inspiration, individually unreviewed, assumed to be of dark knowledge. Destroyed, ten shingen gaki,” I glanced at The Mick, who held up eight fingers, “ten shikken gaki, two aswang, and two jiangshi, all under the control of the vylstrigoi. The Cursed scroll uses Daoist Feather Script, among its other languages, which include Aklo and Necrus. Assumption is the Chinese trade delegation sold it to him, anticipating on starting an undead eruption in this area.

“Debts owed: local Ghoul Baron Gillcrukx, for providing the name of the probable vampire; The Mick, aid in killing the undead. I believe The Mick will be willing to assume the debt to the Baron, and move our debt to him.”

The Mick once again looked startled, and gave me a thumbs-up.

“The Mick confirms. Also, a minor debt to a driver who gave us a ride at a key moment, but The Mick has subsumed that debt, too.”

“You do not miss a damn trick,” the gnome on the other end hissed. “Okay, what are the plans with the lore?”

“If you can get a forensic team to the man’s house, there may be something that Master Fred overlooked, and then, considering what went on in the basement, it should be burned to the ground.

“We need a fill team dispatched here to fill in this tomb. Master Fred baked the whole thing in wrathfire, so unless you’ve a need for a hidden cache point, it can be gotten rid of.”

“Ask The Mick if he’s willing to misdirect where the tomb is.”

Said person had exceptional hearing. “Och, you know how Boxer gets, burning down everything of value in his zealous desire to purify the world from foul malefactors and other upstanding citizens, ya wee sprite!”

“We can use it as an emergency safe house. Take note, ya milk-wearing leech!” Gregorigori riposted.

The Mick beamed. “Aye, and I will, knee-licker!” he called back cheerfully.

“What’s the proper dispensation on the lore items?” I asked The Mick, who narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“Well, realistically, the pyromantic tendencies ol’ Boxer and his self-righteous hardarses mean that if they have to share the interesting bits with the vampires or the ghouls and contribute to our libraries, they prefer to be burning it all.” Master Fred just nodded.

“How wide is your personal knowledge, and do you get merits for recovering such tidbits for the clan, and do you care?” I inquired calmly.

He was Tome-Tainted. He probably did not have the clan’s best interests at heart.

“Hmm.” His dark eyes wandered towards some of the other ‘inspirational items’ we had recovered. “If I could be to copying an unknown tome or two, they’d mark me up as a clever young lad who has more between his ears than meat for killing.” He stroked the dark beard he’d grown in but a day thoughtfully. “As for personal knowledge... I’m a student of The Lore, so there’s never enough.”

“Do you keep a blank book or journal or something for hastily copying proscribed information into?”

He grinned again. “Boxer, where DID you find this lass? I want one for meself!” His gloved hand went inside his coat, and emerged with a book that would have done service as a telephone directory. “Not me personal Libram,” he noted.

“Naturally.” I waved it away, and he put it back, where it did not cause the slightest bulge. “Gregorigori, I’ll need a quiet and reserved area I can do a rapid forensic read-through on these books, determining if they have magical value, lore value, collector’s value, or are just a bunch of insane shit.”

“The local temple to Sylune has a nice chamber made for careful study and disposal of questionable materials,” he informed me promptly.

“If you would be so polite as to make us an appointment? Once I’ve got them categorized, we can determine their final dispensation, right?”

“That sounds quite reasonable,” the gnome agreed.

“If you’ve no urgent business, Lord Mick, we would be happy to have you join us.”

He grin was big and white. “Oh, I wouldnae miss such a fine opportunity to steal precious dark secrets and wondrous hidden truths of the universe from under the noses of the close-minded and uptight silver nuns!” he agreed happily.

“Do you need to stop by and see Gillcrukx personally?” I asked. Because we were going to have to put all this stuff into Bone Marrow’s trunk.

“Such delicate negotiations between upstanding citizens such as ourselves are best done in person,” he agreed sagely.