The party enters the building through massive, arched doors, where the School of Antiquities opens into a spacious foyer. Their guide leads them up a curving granite staircase. At the top-most level of the building, he takes them down a wide corridor into one of the wings of the school. A wooden sign hangs from the ceiling and on it are etched the words Elder Ages Wing.
As the traveled the spacious halls of the school they met not a single person. Footsteps echoed eerily down empty corridors.
“This is the Hall of Ancient Artifacts,” the Khovian scholar intones as he stops before a pair of square redwood doors. Carved across their face is a strange and symbolic relief the denies description. For a moment every pair of eyes are trapped within a maze of lines. The design is such that it instantly grabs a persons attention but at the same time is completely unrecognizable.
“Please come inside,” says the scholar, “Master is on his way to meet you.”
At this, the party share glances of confusion. No one saw any other person on their short trip through the halls of the school and the scholar never left their side. Before they bring up their unspoken question the scholar whisks them into the hall.
The Hall of Ancient Artifacts is a spacious, three-story tall room located at the end of the Elder Ages Wing. Tables cluttered with fragments of ancient cultures and bits and pieces of lost ages fill the room’s center. Where space remains, wooden crates and exotic items of all shapes and sizes are stacked.
The wall opposite the entrance is one towering set of shelves and cubbyholes. Found among these dusty ledges the curled edges of worn scrolls and the tattered vestments of strange tomes can be seen sharing space with obscure statuettes and cracked pottery from a thousand ages gone by.
On either side of this cluttered collection are two alcoves that bring in light from wide windows three stories high. Situated beside these windows are what appear to be work areas: desks with opened catalogues and assorted books stacked high, tables with the arcane implements of a delver of history placed ever so precisely.
It is to one of these work area that the Khovian scholar leads his life-saving fellows. Curiously, the area opposite seems much more untended. Tools left out of place, potted plants dryed-up and a fine sheen of dust covers everything tells Gaia, Uber, Balasar and that place has been vacant for some time.
Noticing the interest of the party, the Khovian scholar speaks up. “Ah, yes. My college. He has been missing several weeks now. The Master is worried as he was in the middle of some important research into the Fall of Kum’marath. Its such a shame, so much knowledge lost. He was quite an expert on that Age.”
“Excuse me, the Fall of Kum’marath…” starts Bluereth who is interrupted by the scholar starring intently over their shoulders.
“Yes, Master. There are some visitors here to discuss something with you.”