Of the magi that came to Prospectus Locus and what they found there. Also, a party, a murder, and a theft. Wherein it is discovered that guilt is not always easily determined, and that justice may not be easily administered.

Dramatis Personae

Gamemaster: Chris Van Horn

Albus' Dialogues
March 24, 1213
Evening

Risus and I have heard interesting word today. Prospectus Locus, a covenant in Iberia, is seeking new members. They ask for nothing but votes in their next Tribunal. It seems an ideal offer. Risus and I have decided to travel there to investigate it fully.

These months since leaving home have been good ones. She is gone. No more incessant whisperings. No more demands that I betray what I am. I was sure that geography could not bind her, but it seems I was wrong. I will not miss the Rhine.

Albus' Dialogues
April 13, 1213
Evening

Movement at last. Who would have thought that it would take three weeks to find a boat heading for Iberia? We should have walked. We would have been half-way to Nicaea by now. A third-of-the-way at least. In any case we have a boat now. The Santa Maria.

The Holy Land has been an interesting place. Cyprus, Antioch-Tripoli, and Acre are all clearly doomed. It is but a question of how long they will hold off the Ayyubid Sultanate. Until they fall they will be like brands, burning brightly in the wind. I am tempted to stay, but much to my surprise I yearn for a covenant of fellows. This Prospectus Locus cries loudly to me.

Risus and I met two fellows here in the Holy Lands. Fabricarius of Verditius and Incendium of Flambeau. They are both stout warriors. Incendium is a bit hot-headed, but what Flambeau is not? They have heard the call of Prospectus Locus too. They will accompany us to Iberia.

The Santa Maria leaves with the tide this eve. She is a trading vessel, and so the trip will be long. We will weigh anchor in the Despotate of Rhodes, the Latin Empire, the Kingdom of Sicily, and the Almohad Caliphate. The voyage will be interesting, the destination even more so. Iberia awaits.

Albus' Dialogues
May 14, 1213
Early Evening

So far, so good. Or to be more erudite, as Avitus would have preferred, "That which starts simply starts best."

Risus, Fabricarius, Incendium, and I arrived at Prospectus Locus this afternoon. I am not sure what I expected, but I was surprised by the beauty of the covenant. It is located in the middle of the delta of the Ebro River, atop a small island. The surrounding lands are green and verdant, full of life of every type.

We were let off the Santa Maria just a few miles from the covenant itself. There was a small trek, but nothing of particular note. We passed through the town of Bercula on the way. It is really a village more than anything else. I believe I counted twelve houses in all, each built from stone stolen from the nearby ruins of a Roman ampitheatre. There was some type of fair going on at the town, apparently a normal occurrence in summer.

The covenant itself is an interesting hodge-podge. The central tower predates the covenant itself, as does the Roman bath house, though the latter bears clear signs of reconstruction. The rest of the buildings have been built by a variety of people in a variety of times. They lean up against one another, sometimes allowing no passage except through the buildings themselves.

A grog named Julio met us at the gate. He was lazing up against the wall when we arrived, his hound dog sleeping at his feet. He quickly came to attention when alerted of our approach and greeted us properly. Upon hearing that we had come to join the covenant he escorted us to the Roman bath house, where the only elder member of the covenant present was resting.

The elder we met was Drake. A Bjornaer. A strong enough man, I'm sure. Reputedly a warrior of old. Today, though, his emotions controlled him. Our arrival reminded him of many recently dead friends. Their deaths were the reason for Prospectus Locus' offer, as I understand it. A great battle claimed five members of Prospectus Locus in 1212, and the covenant grew too weak. From death comes life.

We exchanged pleasantries with Drake for a time in the tempratorium. While we did two more newcomers showed up, a magus named Pablo Viator and a young woman named Alacina. Viator is a Jerbiton who is wide-travelled. He spoke of France, Germany, Italy, and Spain, and I lost track of which he claimed as home. The home of Alacina, however, I recall. It is the city of Barcelona, up the coast northeast of us. Her father is a magus at the covenant there.

Drake's Diary
14 May, 1213 AD

'Lo, there has come a change to Prospectus Locus. As Summer changes to Fall, as Winter changes to Spring, the old must give way to the new, and today has begun that process in our covenant.

It has now been almost half a year since that decisive covenant meeting on 21 December, 1212 AD, when we remaining three members of Prospectus Locus decided to throw open the doors of our home to all and sundry who might come. I was sure that the gambit had failed, for in the long months that followed but one new magus joined our fellowship--Docilli of Bonisagus. Even Aubrin, ever patient, had begun to give up hope, for a month ago he, Forticulus, and Docilli left the covenant to try and raise support for our cause among the other covenants of Iberia, for the Tribunal of 1214 draws dangerously close. I remained, token elder of the covenant, ready in the unlikely event that new magi accept our offer now.

And now, in the last two days, a plethora of magi have arrived, too many even, though I truly doubt Aubrin would take that view. The labs are overflowing. Great preparations are being made in the kitchen for a feast. There is life in Prospectus Locus again, young life.

Note to myself: greeting pretty young librarians from the bath is a poor idea, as they flush and turn bright red.

Yet there is pain too, for the coming of these young, vibrant magi reminds me of what all we have lost, of all those that I shall never see again this side of the veil, if ever. Calefacto, you loved too deeply; Taratus, you fought too boldly; Addictus, you followed too loyally. I could not keep my composure before these new magi, but they understood my loss, I am sure. They will be welcomed into this covenant, and when we have achieved a new equilibrium with the world, I am sure they will be ready to offer their hand in rightful vengeance.

Albus' Dialogues
May 14, 1213
Early Evening (continued)

In all there are ten labs at Prospectus Locus: three in the central tower, six in a three-story building near the library, and a final one outside the walls. Five of those were allocated before my arrival. The three in the tower are taken by the three survivors of the old covenant: Aubrin of Merinita, Drake of Bjornaer, and Forticulus of Flambeau. Two new members had preceded us: Docilli of Bonisagus and Lorum of Merinita. They have taken the two labs on the ground floor of the lab building.

I have not yet met Aubrin, Forticulus, or Docilli. They are all away on some task. Lorum greeted us as we entered the lab building, as did his black-furred rabbit. Lorum seems pleasantly coherent. So many Merinita can be lost to the world.

We had no real trouble dividing the five remaining labs between the five of us. Forticulus deemed it prudent to take the external lab, far from the library. When Viator learned that the third floor labs adjoined a beautiful garden on the roof of the library he requested one of them. Risus and I thus took the two second floor labs and Incendium ended up with the other lab on the third floor.

Five magi of Prospectus Locus died that day in 1212. I can name them here, though the names mean little to me: Calefacto of Flambeau, Taratus of Tytalus, Addictus of Tytalus, Shlacten of Flambeau, and Centerin of Tremere. Taratus is reputed to have been a private person who kept to himself. The northern lab of the second floor belonged to him. This was the one I selected.

Calling Taratus private was no exaggeration. A chunk of solid stone blocked the entrance to his old lab. He must have used magic to pass through it. With no other option I began Perdoing. As with all magic my proficiency in Perdo Terram is adequate. Not spectacular, not poor. I realized it would take some time, and so called for help. I was pleased to learn that Lorum was adequate in Perdo Terram too. He joined me while the others began searching through their new labs, uncovering the treasures of the dead.

This is no smell like that of the long dead. It is the smell of dust, of time, of rot long-gone. It is the last scent of life departed. It was that smell which began to slowly permeate the stairwell as Lorum and I worked upon the block. As the block slowly disappeared the smell enveloped us, pulling the shawl of death tight about us. We choked on the dry, musty air, but at last the task was done. My new lab was opened. I gazed upon it with watering eyes.

I've seen death frequently enough. Some of it was impersonal, like the young lad Horst who was scalded to death in my old covenant's kitchen. Some of it was very personal. My mother's life passed from between her lips as I clutched her hand. My pater died just days after he made me a magus. Somehow the repercussions of death on others never made themself entirely clear to me before today.

Drake I have already writ of. His sorrow today was obvious--the loss of friends. Within Tarratus' lab I found the dessicated corpses of a dog and a cat. Tarratus' pets. They had suffered the loss of a provider. Viator later told me of an insane ferret that inhabited his lab. A magical talking beast. It had been the companion of Centerin, and the magus' death had driven it near to suicide. Loss is a web that forever connects the dead to the living. In the end it draws us all in.

It was two and a half years ago that I met the Quaesitor named Olverus and his apprentice Catorse. I had thought Overus was my Avitus' friend. I have since learned that he was spying on my pater. His apprentice was a fine enough man. A little older than me, but my fellow in the magical arts. Risus, he, and I went out drinking on the nights while Olverus visited my pater. The Order is a large place. I did not expect to see Catorse again so soon, definitely not today. I was still standing before my freshly exhumed lab when, much to my surprise, I saw Catorse climbing the stairs.

I learned two valuable lessons last September. Always treat a Quaesitor with the utmost respect. And, tell them everything. Precept Segundus: I at once explained to the Quaesitor that the animals were dead long before I had opened the lab. Further, after searching my lab I discovered two secret doors. One led up to the lab above me. Incendium's. The other was hidden in the bathroom and led outside the covenant. The Quaesitor was promptly notified of their existance. Precept Primus: when I learned that the Quaesitor had come to join Primus Locus I offered him my lab for I knew there were none left. He politely declined and has taken temporary quarters with the specialists until a new lab cab be built.

I dearly wish I had never found Avitus' books. Now I can not help but wonder, friend or spy?

My lab still needs some work. Walls to be shifted around, windows to be opened up, that type of thing. There is a large amount of stained glass in the lab building, but none in my own lab. Taratus was too private to have windows open to the sky.

I have heard work that Catorse has begun organizing a feast for this evening. We magi will attend, of course, and also all the local villagers and even a number of merchants who are visiting for that fair over in Bercula. I stink of death but a quick bath in the frigidorium should clean me for the feast tonight.

Albus' Dialogues
May 15, 1213
Morning

My head throbs. Even Creo Corporem is but little help this morning. Yesterday evening is a painful blur.

The feast hall is a grand place. The main hall stands over twenty-foot tall. Yesterday evening it was full of people. Over a hundred. I'm not sure my entire covenant in the Rhine could hold that many people! We magi have a special alcove that stands ten foot above the main hall, overlooking it. It is the trophy hall and the meeting room for the covenant. There are all manner of amazing things in it: shields, swords, favors, banners, stuffed animal heads, everything. There is even a glowing green gem hanging above the table said to be won from the faeries over a score years ago.

We took our places. Drake was at the head of the table. The rest of us sat along its sides. Myself, Risus, Incendium, Fabricarius, Lorum, Viator. Catorse. Viator did not stay with us long. After eating some of the fine fare he went down to join the mundanes. I was tempted to do so as well, but Catorse looked at Viator so scornfully.

Risus lifted the first tankard of ale and challenged us to do the same. Fabricarius and I were happy to accept the challenge. Drake wished to drown his sorrows. Catorse joined the contest as well.

My most vivid recollection of Catorse visiting Risus and myself two and a half years ago involves him retching out behind The Painted Lady. It happened three times, once each night the Quaesitors stayed with us. Some things do not change. After just five tankards Catorse fled for the bathrooms across the hall. Drake, Risus, and I did better. We each collapsed in our various ways after nine tankards. Fabricarius claims he drank himself into a stupor afterward.

And that is all I recall of the evening. Good food. Good ale. Good friends. Good night. My head throbs still.

However, I missed quite a bit of excitement afterward. Enrico was found dead in the bath house. He was a stable boy at the covenant. Incendium and Lorum did their best to investigate.

They found a small ruby near the body which seemed to imply that the murderer had been someone wealthy. They further discovered that Enrico had been seen recently with a local prostitute named Sarah. Finally they learned that Sarah had left the party early, at the arm of a rich merchant named Fredrico. Incendium decided to go into town to talk with Fredrico. He took a big, dumb grog named Stefan with him.

I can only guess that Incendium engaged in normal Flambeau tactics in town. That is to say force. He brought Sarah back with him, but Fredrico managed to escape. He has been questioning Sarah all morning, it seems, without success.

By the forked beard of Tytalus, someone outside is yelling about gems now. It is like knives in my skull. I must go shut them up.

Tales of the Grogs of Prospectus Locus
as told by Rodrigo

May 14 1213, there is a date I recall well. It was a day of fresh faces, of new sorrows, and of exciting pageantry. It a new beginning.

It had seemed a normal enough day until Julio began to shout that four strangers were coming. At first we thought a magus and his three mundane companions had arrived, for only the flame wielder was deeply touched by magic. Later we learned that all four were magi in their own rights.

That day Lady Luck was greatly enjoying exerting her wiles, for within the hour two more magi had arrived. Six in all and all within the hour. Kind Pablo, commanding Albus, brave Incendium, enigmatic Risus, just Catorse, and wise Fabricarius. I have spoken of their adventures since, the triumphs and tragedies.

We grogs spent much of the afternoon lifting and carrying, as the magi moved furniture and books out of their new labs. Unromantic work, but necessary.

It was not until evening that the true excitement began. The magi had declared there would be a great feast, but they could not predict the tragedy that would strike. It was watchful Julio who brought the news of the murder, who told the magi and us grogs that innocent Enrico had been found brutally slain in the bath house.

Stealthy Torp was sent for at once, for no clue could escape his watchful eye. He was able to track the murderer from the tempratorium to the frigidorium and then outside to a stone path. Alas not even his eagle eyes could find marks of passage in the solid stone. But, he proved his worth once more when he returned to Enrico's body and found a small red gem, a clue which would prove vital the next day.

Sly Torp was quick to tell the magi of one who had left the covenant recently, abandoning the party while it was still going strong. It was cunning Fredrico, a merchant, and upon his arm had been beautiful Sarah, a woman of renown. At once brave Incendium exclaimed his intention to pursue the merchant the town. He took strong Stefan with him, and they set out for tiny Bercula.

The merchant was in Bercula, no doubt, and the twain from Prospectus Locus were able to corner him in his room at the inn. Brave Incendium demanded the merchant's surrender but the knave would not offer it, so strong Stefan began to batter at the door to his room. With but two blows it flew open, shards of wood covering the room. Beautiful Sophia cowered in the bed, but of the cowardly merchant there was no sign. Coarse curtains fluttered before the room's single window.

Stout Stefan gave chase at once. He plunged through the window, plummeted to the street below, then picked himself up without word to go after the fleeing merchant. But, alas, stamina and strength are no match for the cunning of a coward. Strong Stefan chased the merchant long and hard, but in the end the knave escaped.

Our flame wielder returned to the covenant with beautiful Sophia in tow. It was several more hours before stout Stefan joined us. The night grew long and cold and it was decided that the mystery and the murder could wait for the dawn of another day.

When it came it would shed new light on the mystery, and we would discover that, despite his cowardly actions, cunning Fredrico was not the culprit, but that is a tale for another day. This day we grogs could be satisfied for we had accomplished the tasks set us by the magi as best we could.

Albus' Dialogues
May 15, 1213
Noon

A nice breeze, some invigorating spell casting, and lots of water have helped me recover. I am preparing to ride northwest along the Ebro, but am taking a few minutes to write of the morning's happenings.

I did not properly appreciate this covenant's affluence yesterday. It is quite rich. I suppose I should have realized it by the ubiquitous stained glass and by the plumbing that runs through all the buildings. Prospectus Locus also maintains several highly skilled artists on staff. They include a very fine stained glass maker and a jeweler. The jeweler's name is Isaac. It is he who was screaming this morning.

Isaac apparently maintains a large number of gems on hand, just in case a magus might need a specific one. His screaming this morning was to alert the covenant that a large number of gems had been stolen in the night. The equivalent of fifty pounds of silver! Even for an affluent covenant like this, that is a good year's surplus income. I had been rather nonchalant about the murder previously. Death happens. Upon learning of the theft from the covenant I became deadly serious.

We magi spent our morning fruitlessly casting spells. Risus and I tried to identify the killer. I emptied the jeweler's room of arcane connections to him and his family and then Risus began to test remaining bits of hair to determine whom they belonged to. Unfortunately the only other person who had left hair in Isaac's room was the maid. Viator meanwhile impressed Sarah with his Aura of Rightful Authority. He learned nothing new. She knew nothing about the murder or any gems; Incendium was too quick to blame her and Fredrico for the murder. It will be an interesting task to win that merchant back to our side.

Finally Risus tried to search first the covenant then Bercula for the gems using Intellego Terram magic. There were no gems of note in our covenant and too many in Bercula.

Tytalus teaches us that a man may not succeed with one skill alone. Only the man knowledgeable in all things may meet all challenges. I failed to show knowledge of Tytalus' lesson today. I depended on my magic. It was Viator who turned to other methods.

While I helped Risus to search Bercula for the gems using magic, Viator used words. He asked around and eventually came to speak with Abbot Castello. The Abbot had brought two monks to our party, Marco and Paulus. Marco was still about town but Paulus had left. The Abbot was sure that he had not given Paulus permission to do so, though his recollections of the latter part of the party were hazy.

I decided to return to the covenant while Viator, Risus, and Incendium headed out to the monastery. When they returned they announced that Paulus had fled the monastery, breaking his vows. Everything clicked into place. We had our murderer and thief. We just need to find him.

Paulus' home is far up the Ebro River, many days to the northwest. We presume he is heading there. He has approximately ten hours' head start. It is most likely that he is either heading up the old Roman road to Barcelona, or up the river, perhaps hoping to find a boat in Mantiun, the nearest real town.

We have divided into four groups. Drake will fly northeast up the Roman road, getting ahead of Paulus if he takes that route; Lorum and Incendium will follow him on the road. Viator will fly northwest over the Ebro; Risus and I will follow him along the river. Unless Paulus has gone to ground we will catch him.

Albus' Dialogues
May 15, 1213
Evening

The flora and fauna of Mantiun await, but first a few notes.

Paulus headed up the river. He got to Mantiun where he was accosted by two other monks. He killed them both. Risus and I were the ones who found the two bodies. After that Paulus' trail grew a little colder.

Three ships left Mantiun this morning, one headed up-river and the other two down-river. I assumed that Paulus was heading home and so made preparations to race upstream after that boat.

Mantiun is the largest town in the area. It houses perhaps 400 people. The baron of the area is a man named Zelipe. He lives in a fine manor house just outside of Mantiun. Word of the murder was brought to him at once and Risus and I were ordered to wait until the Baron arrived to question us.

We rode out to meet him and told him of the situation and my belief that Paulus was on the boat heading up the Ebro. We caught up with the boat and boarded it and discovered that I had been wrong. Zelipe was unimpressed by our investigatory techniques. He left us while Risus and I continued upstream, hoping that Paulus had instead followed the road. A few hours later we ran into Viator. He had gotten far enough ahead to double back. It was clear that Paulus was not on the northwest road. He must be on one of the boats heading out to sea.

Viator has agreed to fly south, to get to the coast before the boats reach the Balearic Sea. If he can beat the ships there we will capture Paulus. Else, the monk and the gems are lost.

Even riding our horses to death Risus and I would not reach the coast in time. Thus we have decided to enjoy Mantiun. Risus waits impatiently for me to finish writing so that we may go and drink and be merry. The ale shall not defeat me this eve.

Albus' Dialogues
May 16, 1213
Mid-Day

Prospectus Locus is not home yet. But, it is a beautiful place and I can easily see that it could become home in the future. This is what I was thinking as Risus and I approached the covenant this morn.

As Risus and I rode toward Prospectus Locus we saw Abbot Castello waiting on the side of the road. I am not an impolite man, so when he greeted me I greeted him back.

Peter is the name I was born under. My Christian name. For fifteen years now I have been Albus. It was a taunt the first time it was spoken, for my very pale skin. I made it a name to be feared. After greeting me this morn the Abbot asked me if I was also known as Peter. I knew something was very wrong.

I acknowledged the name and the Abbot began to preach the gospel to me. I tried to politely explain that I was not interested, and then suddenly I felt a burning flame by my right ear. There was a brightness not of the world and an unearthly music. The Abbot dropped to his knees before me. Then her heavenly voice began to whisper into my ear.

"Repent," she said.

The abbot sobbed at her beauty.

I fled as quickly as I could back to safety. I left her and the Abbot and even Risus behind.

She is back.

I do not know what to do.

I suppose I should note the conclusion of that other matter. After leaving us yesterday Viator flew straight south. He arrived at the mouth of the delta ahead of both ships and managed to get a fishing boat to intercept the first one. Paulus was indeed aboard and Viator was more prepared for his wiles than I. He had the sailors take the man prisoner, managed to recover the gems, and in just a few minutes was back on that fishing boat heading for shore.

Poor Enrico had been but a pawn. Paulus had used him cruelly, convincing him to steal the gems, then murdering him for his trouble. Truly it can be said that life was a challenge that Enrico did not meet.

As is proper Viator returned Paulus to the Abbot for justice. Apparently Castello has odd ideas, for he did not turn Paulus over to the lord for blood justice, but rather had the man confined in the monastery. Somehow Prospectus Locus even managed to pay a small fee to help implement this judgement. I don't understand precisely what happened.

During his conversation with the Abbot Viator apparently mentioned my Christian name, and that was what led to the confrontation on the road. Viator apologized and said he would have warned me if he could have. It does not matter and the fault is not his. Fate is inevitable.

I have much to think about. I am tempted to flee once more. I fear my dreams tonight.

Albus' Dialogues
May 17, 1213

Life is a series of challenges. By defeating these challenges an individual learns more about himself and also about the world around him. This is the credo that Tytalus taught.

There are many in my house who misunderstand Tytalus' credo. They believe it asserts that they must fight. They believe that it praises physical confrontation and nothing else. This is manifestly false.

In recent days I have engaged in a multitude of challenges though I did not raise my sword. I drank heartily with compatriots. I raced a horse along the roads of Iberia. I matched wits with a thief and sadly found myself lacking. Victory or defeat, they both increase understanding.

There is one further lesson that I learned yesterday. I erred when I left my home covenant in the Rhine. I did not err for the leaving. That was a necessary thing, for the challenges at home will always be lesser things. I erred for the reason, which was to flee the angel which has plagued my dreams for twelve years now.

She is a challenge. She seeks to test my magic with her faith. She pits her ecclesiastical unity against my hermetic individuality. I welcome her return. I welcome her challenge. I shall prove myself worthy of it.

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