The dialect is an unfamiliar one, seemingly ancient, but he is mostly able to read the language. As best he can tell, it is a book of magic concerning pastries and light refreshments.
"Visnja... do these books mean anything to you?"
She takes a moment to inspect them. "Not much. This is an old type of magic; I've never seen it practiced before."
"That seems likely. Either that or they could be scholars. Whoever they are, it would take an unusual mind to choose to live down here for so long."
"Perhaps it's simply storage," suggests Alinor. "Owned by the Srevic Order, perhaps?"
"The Srevic Order?" Azril pipes up. "What's that?"
"An order of scholars from the islands to the southwest. Originally dedicated to peace and whatnot, as I understand it. Their members have quite a lot of freedom, and often of resources as well, and this labyrinth is known to at least some of them. It would not surprise me if some of them had visited and took an interest in the knowledge gathered here. Although, it is not like them to leave so many books behind. Perhaps they planned on returning."
"The Srevic Order?" Azril pipes up. "What's that?"
"An order of scholars from the islands to the southwest. Originally dedicated to peace and whatnot, as I understand it. Their members have quite a lot of freedom, and often of resources as well, and this labyrinth is known to at least some of them. It would not surprise me if some of them had visited and took an interest in the knowledge gathered here. Although, it is not like them to leave so many books behind. Perhaps they planned on returning."
"So... good guys, right?" Azril chuckles uneasily. "We don't need to worry too much, then."
"An order of scholars from the islands to the southwest. Originally dedicated to peace and whatnot, as I understand it. Their members have quite a lot of freedom, and often of resources as well, and this labyrinth is known to at least some of them. It would not surprise me if some of them had visited and took an interest in the knowledge gathered here. Although, it is not like them to leave so many books behind. Perhaps they planned on returning."
"So... good guys, right?" Azril chuckles uneasily. "We don't need to worry too much, then."
"Some. But no, I don't think we need to worry. We do need to get moving again, though."
"Come take a look at this." Alinor gestures for Daniel to come to the front. As he does so, he sees that the dead end they are at is carved with words, separated into three sections. The first reads:
It stands alone, with no bone or solid form. Adamant, it prospers never wrong, though hurt it may. Twistable, malleable, might it be, but always straight as an arrow.
Alinor sighs. "I think we have to answer these riddles."
"Come take a look at this." Alinor gestures for Daniel to come to the front. As he does so, he sees that the dead end they are at is carved with words, separated into three sections. The first reads:
It stands alone, with no bone or solid form. Adamant, it prospers never wrong, though hurt it may. Twistable, malleable, might it be, but always straight as an arrow.
Alinor sighs. "I think we have to answer these riddles."
"Great," Daniel deadpans. "Should be easy enough."
"All right, let us think." Lucas frowns, scrutinizing the text. "No solid form... never wrong... but it hurts. Always straight as an arrow... truth--?"
"Come take a look at this." Alinor gestures for Daniel to come to the front. As he does so, he sees that the dead end they are at is carved with words, separated into three sections. The first reads:
It stands alone, with no bone or solid form. Adamant, it prospers never wrong, though hurt it may. Twistable, malleable, might it be, but always straight as an arrow.
Alinor sighs. "I think we have to answer these riddles."
"Great," Daniel deadpans. "Should be easy enough."
"All right, let us think." Lucas frowns, scrutinizing the text. "No solid form... never wrong... but it hurts. Always straight as an arrow... truth--?"
"A stick," Azril says hopefully.
As Lucas says 'truth', the words begin to glow. Beneath them, Truth appears. The second riddle reads:
In daytime I lie pooled about, At night I cloak like a mist. I creep inside shut boxes and Inside your tightened fist. You see me best when you can't see, For I do not exist.
