The next morning, the trio awoke still shaken by the previous night. Determined, they got ready and headed back to the spot where the sorcerers had vanished. As they approached the clearing, it appeared as if nothing had ever happened. The grass seemed untrodden, the portal was gone, and there were no signs of the hooded figures. The wooden cage even seemed to disappear without leaving indentions in the ground. Varic, however, noticed splintered shards of wood scattered on the ground—remnants of the cage that had held the mysterious sacks the night before. Ardric, ever vigint, discovered a seemingly old, dirty piece of parchment. There did not seem to be much written on the parchment, no more than half the page. The only legible wording on the page was at the top, very faintly written "Escapee's" followed by many roughly scratched-out lines underneath.

  At the very bottom of the list, barely able to be read, were the letters "ingle beebl, ag gd" with many letters involved being weathered away. Ardric furrowed his brow as he looked at the page, deep in thought.

  "Did you find something there?" Zeroth asked as he approached his brother, Varic scanning the ground nearby.

  "If I were to be a guessing dwarf with some knowledge of context clues, it appears as if we have a list of names, well name, and something awful close to saying mage's guild," replied Ardric, turning the page towards Zeroth.

  "That would be a decent convenience, we are already on our way to the guild after all. Now we have even more questions that need to be answered and that is if this random piece of paper has anything to do with what happened st night," Zeroth replied as he scratched his thick beard.

  Varic raised an eyebrow. "So, you both actually believe the mage's guild is connected to this somehow?"

  Ardric nodded. "Seems that way. If they're a day's travel away, it might be worth checking in. They could have information or be able to help us understand what we stumbled upon."

  Zeroth, still pondering the mysteries of the previous night, agreed reluctantly. "Mage's guild it is, then. Let's see if they have any answers or if we're in for more questions." The trio set off once again, their path guided by the prospect of answers and the uncertainty that loomed on the horizon.

  As the trio crested the hill that led toward the Mage's Guild, the ndscape opened to reveal a monolithic structure that seemed to rise out of the earth itself, as though summoned rather than built. The guild towered above the surrounding hills, its sweeping limestone fa?ade catching the light of the sun just beginning to descend behind them. Three grand spires jutted into the sky like drawn bdes, the tallest one capped in a crown of ever-turning arcane rings. Their silhouette stretched long over the stone courtyard before them, casting the shape of a jagged "M" into the golden afternoon light.

  Massive staircases curled up either side of the central structure, carved from obsidian-veined marble, and lined with glowing glyphs that shimmered faintly with each passing second. Dozens of arched windows reflected no clear image, only swirling colors. Despite the building's age, the stone bore no signs of wear. If anything, it seemed untouched by time, kept pristine through means beyond the mundane. No guards fnked the entrance. No travelers loitered. Yet, the building thrummed with life. Muffled voices echoed beyond the heavy stone walls, and the occasional fsh of magic flickered from slitted windows like fireflies caught in gss.

  Zeroth slowed his steps, his eyes wide with quiet awe. The way the sunlight curved against the spires made the pce feel divine. Not quite holy, but certainly sacred in its own right. Even his battle axe, secured tightly on his back, seemed to grow heavier in the presence of so much focused magical energy. Grimbli, tucked in his waistband, vibrated subtly, as if recognizing the familiar wards and leyline threads woven through the guild's foundation.

  Varic, by contrast, kept his gaze low, his usual confidence dulled by an invisible pressure. The air here was charged but not in the violent way of storm or fire, but like the quiet before a powerful spell took shape. Warlocks and traditional mages had never walked comfortably side by side, and the closer they got to the towering archway of the guild's entrance, the more Varic's unease became tangible. The path forward was lined with twelve statues, each one robed, faceless, and holding a different staff, wand, or tome. They faced inward toward the guild’s great doors, as if eternally watching those who entered. Etched into the obsidian above the doors was an inscription in a flowing script none of them recognized, though each of them understood the meaning in their bones: “Know yourself, or be unmade.”

  Zeroth took a steadying breath as he stepped forward. "Alright then," he muttered, more to himself than the others, "Let’s see what’s waiting inside."

  Ardric, still holding the parchment with the cryptic message, led the trio up the final steps of the Mage’s Guild. As the towering doors eased open, a wave of light and sound poured out to greet them. The interior opened into an enormous central atrium. The ceiling stretched far beyond what seemed possible, vanishing into soft, swirling lights that looked like stars caught in motion. The walls were carved of smooth stone etched with glowing sigils, and enchanted chandeliers floated in midair, illuminating the space with gentle pulses of magical energy. Magicians of every kind bustled about the hall. Robes of silk and scale brushed past each other as people hurried between staircases, teleportation circles, and hanging walkways that twisted and curved midair. High above, floating rooms drifted zily from one end of the Guild to another, each adorned with golden inys and reinforced with protective wards that shimmered faintly like heat waves.

  The air was thick with magical residue. Static crackled faintly beneath their boots, and the smell of parchment, strange herbs, and old magic clung to everything. Scrolls fluttered past on their own accord. Crystals hummed quietly on pedestals. On a balcony overhead, two apprentices were locked in a mock duel, their colorful spells cshing like bursts of fireworks under the eye of a stern instructor. Zeroth did his best to appear unimpressed, but his eyes betrayed him. They kept darting to every glowing object, every moving construct, every impossible enchantment stitched into the very architecture. His hand brushed against his waistband, checking that Grimbli was still hidden. The stone hummed against him, pulsing faintly in response to the ambient magic. Zeroth muttered under his breath, trying to silence him. This was no pce to start floating and talking.

  Varic, walking just behind them, kept his eyes downcast. His steps were careful, slow. There was no obvious hostility in the Guild, but it didn’t stop the weight of history from pressing on his shoulders. Warlocks had long been viewed with suspicion in pces like this. He could feel it in the way some passing mages gnced at him. He offered them none of his attention. The trio navigated the bustling chaos until they reached a raised marble ptform in the center of the hall. A curved desk wrapped around it, manned by a woman dressed in crisp formal robes, her silver hair tied into a braid so perfect it could’ve been carved. Her quill floated beside her, scrawling midair in glowing blue runes that vanished after each word.

  "We found this," Ardric began, pcing the page on the desk, "and we've got some questions. Can we speak to someone who might be able to help?"

  The receptionist scanned the parchment and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see, this is rather unusual. Let me fetch someone who can better assist you."

  As they waited, Zeroth couldn't help but marvel at the magical artifacts dispyed around the guild. Varic, though visibly reserved, maintained his composure, keeping an eye on the various magical practitioners around them. Soon, a senior mage with a long beard and flowing red robes approached the trio. Zeroth flinched at the aura of power radiating off this one.

  "Greetings," the mage said, studying the trio. "I'm Archmage Thamar. How can the Mage's Guild assist you?" Ardric expined their recent encounters, from the hooded figures to the arcane portal and the parchment's mysterious message. Thamar listened attentively, his expression growing more serious.

  "May I examine the page young dwarf?" Thamar inquired.

  "Of course," Ardric responded as he handed Thamar the page.

  As Thamar examined the parchment, a flicker of recognition crossed his face. His eyes widened behind his gsses, and a puzzled expression settled on his features.

  "Wait a moment... 'ingle beepl, age gd,'" Thamar muttered, deep in thought. Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "By the arcane realms, this is Tingle Beeblewapple!" He took a step back as if struck by the memories.

  "Many years ago, a young gnome named Tingle Beeblewapple arrived at the Mages Guild. He was ragged, starved, and appeared to have escaped someone's captivity. Tingle had a unique fascination with magical weaponry, especially elemental and projectile devices. Always trying to invent something new."

  Thamar's eyes gleamed with understanding. "And his way of speaking... oh, it's quite distinct. Many other artificers refused to work under him, not because he was a bad gnome or anything, it's just... you will see." The trio exchanged gnces, processing this unexpected connection.

  Thamar continued, "An adult now, practicing as an Artificer, Tingle has his own workshop within the Artificers wing of the guild. He may have more direct answers pertaining to this page and possibly of the events that occurred the same day you lot were attacked by that boar you mentioned."

  Excitement mixed with curiosity as the party realized they might have a lead. Thamar led them through the bustling guild, past enchanted objects, and arcane experiments, to a workshop where Tingle Beeblewapple was engrossed in his magical creations. As they approached, Tingle looked up, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and delight.

  "Oh my, visitors! Tingle is honored! How can Tingle help?"

  Varic took a step back as he heard Tingle's falsetto-pitched voice, "What the hell just assaulted my ears?"

  Zeroth, sensing Varic's discomfort, quickly stepped forward, a friendly grin on his face. "Ah, Tingle! It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Zeroth Velkyrr. This is my brother Ardric and this tall gss of half-elf water behind me is Varic."

  Varic, regaining his composure, managed a nod. "Yes, we've encountered something rather unusual, and Thamar here suggested you might be able to shed some light."

  Tingle beamed. "Oh, of course! Let Tingle see what you have." Ardric handed the parchment to Tingle, who studied it with keen interest.

  Within a few heartbeats, Tingle's excited expression seemed to start to dissipate. "No... They know Tingle left. They know where Tingle sleeps. Tingle assumed they thought I died in the forest all those years ago, even then this page is not very old, that was when I was still young and Tingle is only 58."

  Zeroth frowned, "Would you know anything about a group of what we believe to be sorcerers of some kind sacrificing decent-sized bags into a hellish portal?"

  Tingle sighed, setting the parchment down and rubbing his blue eyes, "Tingle knows and Tingle will share. Some of Tingle's first memories were of warnings by mother. Tingle always knew "Avoid the kobolds" and "Don't get talk to the fey". The normal worries. Tingle was not warned about Them though. Tingle was abducted when I was very young, Tingle and many other young gnomes. We didn't know what we did to deserve it, Tingle was scared and confused. As more and more days went by while Tingle was captive, Tingle noticed gnomes coming in and leaving on random nights. Tingle knew one day he would disappear but as luck would have it Tingle managed to escape and run away during a particurly powerful storm." As Tingle kept talking, Zeroth noticed Tingle was starting to shake, as if talking about his memories were making him relive them.

  "After that night Tingle wandered, one day stumbling here. Tingle found his new home." Tingle finished with a smile at Thamar.

  "And he is well protected here if anyone were to attempt to take him back." Thamar stated.

  Tingle ughed lightly as he replied, "Tingle is very safe, though Tingle does hope some of this information has helped, Tingle is worried if the group of gnome stealers are making a return. If they are Tingle is sure only bad can come out of it."

  "Were there any names you may remember of the ones who took you specifically or if they ever had a name for their main hideout?" Ardric asked, leaning forward.

  Tingle gulped, "Tingle only remembers one location name. Tingle heard it mentioned very few times, very quietly, but Tingle heard things about a pce called the Whispering Abyss Sanctum. Tingle heard that only the worst kobolds go there."

  "Well, we finally have something to go off of." Varic said as he stroked his jawline.

  Thamar, who was patiently waiting and listening in the doorway, finally spoke up, "Oh! I may know an old friend who may have connections with the kobolds. She very well may have more information on that front but for now, it is officially time for me to go to my quarters. I bid you all good day and extend my guild to all three of you for the night. Rest up and eat plenty, it appears more will be uncovered soon."