"Wonderful," she says, and for a moment, the proprietor of the Fireblade Tavern looks ancient and world-weary as she slumps slightly in her chair -- but only for a moment. She stands, and looks to the group. "Follow me, then." She leads the seven adventurers up to the room that Ascian had just snuck into, with Na'arik following behind. Leaving everyone in the center of the room, she walks to one of the bedside tables and picks up the mug there. Liquid sloshes as she paces across the room to the chest of drawers, with the staff and cup on top. She passes the staff to Na'arik, and turns back to the group. "No need to hold your breath. It will be over quite soon," she says. She turns and pours the contents of the mug into the cup. The liquid seems to fill the cup to the brim and spill over. She stops pouring, and the liquid continues splashing out of the cup. It trickles down the chest of drawers and across the floor until it laps at the boots of the adventuring party. The water rises and rises and strangely, as it touches the bare skin of hands and arms, it doesn't feel wet. Each one ponders this strange feeling until the liquid covers their heads. They all look at each other in their watery surroundings, perplexed stares all around, until the water suddenly splashes away, leaving them completely dry, with only a strange feeling in their stomachs -- as if a cart had crested a hill too fast. There is no trace of the water...or the bedroom. Instead, they stand in a long rectangular chamber lit by braziers of crackling white fire in each corner. Three walls are lined with shelves filled with ancient dusty tomes and old preserved scrolls. A desk sits in the center of the room, with pieces of parchment, books, and charcoal pencils. An open door sits at the far end of the room, through which a faint purple glow can be seen. "Welcome to our nefarious secret," Marianne says, taking the staff from Na'arik. "This is likely the largest collection of knowledge in this world. But the reason for hiding it is through here." She leads the group through the door to a circular chamber, unadorned, raised dais in the center. Through a crackling purple wall of light, the group can see a solitary lectern with a massive black-leather bound tome resting on it. "Have you heard of the Well of Many Worlds? A magical book that allows for planar travel within the confines of Estros' inner and outer planes. But this is the Well of Every World. Through it, one can travel to other worlds. Freyanna. Exandria. Greyhawk. Earth. Dragonlance. Arden. Eberron. Ravnica. Theros. There are an infinite number of others, including our home," she looks at Na'arik, "Toril. Each one has their own set of adjacent planes, but they're all distinct worlds. This is what we're here to protect -- the ability to travel between them. Do you now see why we keep our secrets?"