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The Leaves

of Knowledge

About the Leaves of Knowledge

You push open the heavy door to the small, inner courtyard just enough to squeeze through. The hinges don't utter even a hint of a squeak. You walk cautiously around the edge of the courtyard. There are no other doors, no windows. You contemplate the scroll on the ground and step forward to pick it up. A vine flashes out from somewhere within the branches and wraps around your wrist. The ground writhes beneath your feet and root tendrils wind up your legs. Wait... was it a tree whose leaves hold knowldege... or a tree of knowledge with leaves of holding....

You scoop up the scroll with your free hand, grasp the vine and heave your legs free of the roots. Your efforts send you swinging into the low-hanging branches. Abruptly the vine releases your arm, and you tumble through the cascade of leaves to the loamy ground. You sit up and find yourself in a clear space beneath the vault of the tree. There are no hidden structures, trap doors, or... you climb to your feet and prod several curious looking knots on the tree trunk... nope, no doors in the tree.

But... there is something odd about the lower branches. Some of them form a spiral around the trunk, almost like... steps! You set your foot on the lowest branch and begin to climb. After two turns around the massive trunk, the "stairway" ends. Wise, now, to the workings of this place, you hold onto the tree with one hand and wave the scroll in the empty air in front of you. Nothing. In an attempt to shift your hand holds to look further up the tree, you lose your grip on the scroll. It falls just past the tips of your toes and vanishes. Ha! You knew it! You step off the top branch and...

...into a warmly lit room. An elven woman, dressed in sturdy travel garb with a leather satchel slung over one shoulder, is just rising from picking something up off the floor in front of you.

"Ah," she says... looking down at the scroll in her hand, "so that's how you found your way back in here." She looks up at you, now. "Thank you. I must have dropped this one on my way in. I suppose I left the courtyard door open again, too." By her tone, you don't think any of the sequence of events that led you here were by accident at all.

She places the scroll on a stand and beckons you into the room. "Well, you might as well come in and have a look now that you're here."

Looking past her, you see a large, irregularly circular room of wood. The floor is solid wood, the walls are carved wood, and the ceiling is... wood, carved to resemble interwoven branches. There are no windows. The warm light appears to emanate from the wood itself. Several alcoves house shelves of scrolls. A cushioned chair rests next to each alcove and a plush couch and low reading table sit in the center of the room.

The elf pauses and looks back at you. "That is why you're here, isn't it? To have a look?"

You only nod.

"My name is Rinka Tur. I keep this place in order when I'm here, so let me know if I can help you find anything. Much of the rest of the time, I'm a courier for Shorehaven... well, and I keep an eye on a tavern... oh, and I run the Shadowlands on occasion." She waves a hand. "It all provides me with great opportunity to add to our collection.

"The tree, now, that's all Bartholomew's doing. I admit it does do a good job of weeding out, so to speak, those who don't have the mind set to properly approach what we keep in here. You see," she waggles a finger in your direction, "the Court is a place of magic, and, quite honestly, magic kind of depends on not knowing too much about the world. As soon as you think you know something, you fix... lock... the nature what it is. Magic requires mutability. So, look to your heart's content, but be careful with carrying too much knowledge around with you, and keep an eye toward how you use it. If you aren't careful, it just might close some ways to you."




Bardic Mysteries Cullinary Mischief Fantasy History Trades Writing Craft __________ Mini-Map of the Court Courtyard \| Bardic Circle \| Editor's Glade \| Gallery \| Grotto \| Hall of the Sidhe \| Leaves of Knowledge \| Maproom \| Scriptorium \| Tower of Magike \| Vale of Mysteries \| Wardenhall		The Leaves of Knowledge About the Leaves of Knowledge You push open the heavy door to the small, inner courtyard just enough to squeeze through. The hinges don't utter even a hint of a squeak. You walk cautiously around the edge of the courtyard. There are no other doors, no windows. You contemplate the scroll on the ground and step forward to pick it up. A vine flashes out from somewhere within the branches and wraps around your wrist. The ground writhes beneath your feet and root tendrils wind up your legs. Wait... was it a tree whose leaves hold knowldege... or a tree of knowledge with leaves of holding.... You scoop up the scroll with your free hand, grasp the vine and heave your legs free of the roots. Your efforts send you swinging into the low-hanging branches. Abruptly the vine releases your arm, and you tumble through the cascade of leaves to the loamy ground. You sit up and find yourself in a clear space beneath the vault of the tree. There are no hidden structures, trap doors, or... you climb to your feet and prod several curious looking knots on the tree trunk... nope, no doors in the tree. But... there is something odd about the lower branches. Some of them form a spiral around the trunk, almost like... steps! You set your foot on the lowest branch and begin to climb. After two turns around the massive trunk, the "stairway" ends. Wise, now, to the workings of this place, you hold onto the tree with one hand and wave the scroll in the empty air in front of you. Nothing. In an attempt to shift your hand holds to look further up the tree, you lose your grip on the scroll. It falls just past the tips of your toes and vanishes. Ha! You knew it! You step off the top branch and... ...into a warmly lit room. An elven woman, dressed in sturdy travel garb with a leather satchel slung over one shoulder, is just rising from picking something up off the floor in front of you. "Ah," she says... looking down at the scroll in her hand, "so that's how you found your way back in here." She looks up at you, now. "Thank you. I must have dropped this one on my way in. I suppose I left the courtyard door open again, too." By her tone, you don't think any of the sequence of events that led you here were by accident at all. She places the scroll on a stand and beckons you into the room. "Well, you might as well come in and have a look now that you're here." Looking past her, you see a large, irregularly circular room of wood. The floor is solid wood, the walls are carved wood, and the ceiling is... wood, carved to resemble interwoven branches. There are no windows. The warm light appears to emanate from the wood itself. Several alcoves house shelves of scrolls. A cushioned chair rests next to each alcove and a plush couch and low reading table sit in the center of the room. The elf pauses and looks back at you. "That is why you're here, isn't it? To have a look?" You only nod. "My name is Rinka Tur. I keep this place in order when I'm here, so let me know if I can help you find anything. Much of the rest of the time, I'm a courier for Shorehaven... well, and I keep an eye on a tavern... oh, and I run the Shadowlands on occasion." She waves a hand. "It all provides me with great opportunity to add to our collection. "The tree, now, that's all Bartholomew's doing. I admit it does do a good job of weeding out, so to speak, those who don't have the mind set to properly approach what we keep in here. You see," she waggles a finger in your direction, "the Court is a place of magic, and, quite honestly, magic kind of depends on not knowing too much about the world. As soon as you think you know something, you fix... lock... the nature what it is. Magic requires mutability. So, look to your heart's content, but be careful with carrying too much knowledge around with you, and keep an eye toward how you use it. If you aren't careful, it just might close some ways to you."