Grandur took a look at Varien, hoping to pick up some cues as to the paladin’s disposition. The man was resplendent in his armour but betrayed little in the way of emotion. To Grandur, however, Varien seemed level-headed enough that he decided to heed his exhortation to go ahead, and got on with his investigation. Grandur’s mage hand probed and explored the tiny holes built into the lid of the sarcophagus. “They don’t appear to be hidden switches,” Grandur told his companions. “More like a series of tubes.” Above him, there was the sound of feathers brushing the vaulted ceiling of the crypt. Grandur glanced up, but could see nothing. The sarcophagus lid made a slight grinding noise as it shifted with Grandur’s telekinetic mage hand . The wizard figured something in gaseous form, or something capable of squeezing into small spaces, could make its way through the tiny holes. Siegfried pulled out a jar of Thann-branded hair putty from his bag of holding . “We can stop up those holes to keep whatever vampiric creature who resides there from escaping to his place of refuge.” “Well, what if the vampire’s already in there?” Grandur said. “Wait Siegfried,” Varien said. “Why exactly do you think there’s a vampire in this crypt?” “Oh yes, you weren’t part of that discussion, were you?” Siegfried replied. “I was speaking to one of the vampire’s criminal rivals. He explained that the vampire has been collecting treasures up in that warded scry-proof ethereal box over our heads, so we’re going to kill the vampire, take his stuff, and let that criminal fill the power vacuum left behind.” Varien pointed at the door. “And the vampire’s through there?” Siegfried nodded. “According to the helpful map that the criminal rival drew for us.” “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Varien turned and made towards the door in the eastern wall. “I’ll help!” Planetar-wen said. He fluttered invisibly towards the door and pushed against it. He gave it a mighty shove with his shield, to no avail. The door held fast. “I was picking the lock!” Siegfried protested. Grandur stuffed plugs of hair putty into the holes in the sarcophagus lid. Invisible, Planetar-wen backed away from the door and leaned against the sarcophagus lid. His weight pushed the lid aside with a heavy grinding sound. Grandur’s eyes widened as he saw the lid beginning to move. “I swear I triggered no switch!” Siegfried sighed. “Erwen, you just saw the lengths we went to avoid giving a vampire a means of escape, and now you’re enabling it! I’m not surprised, just disappointed.” The lid slid in a southerly direction, and a musty, mouldy smell pervaded the room, as though they had opened the door to a waterlogged library. There was a heavy thudding sound as the lid slipped off the sarcophagus and crashed to the marble floor on its side. Grandur breathed the smell of ancient parchments and scrolls deeply. Smells like knowledge , he thought. Grandur leaned over the coffin to peer inside and winced as his head struck an invisible object. Invisibly, Planetar-wen winced as he bonked heads with the dwarven wizard. Grandur rubbed his scalp and then looked down into the coffin. The coffin was filled with scraps of parchment and strips of scrolls. Planetar-wen went in with both hands, rustling around within the detritus. There was a clanking sound as his exploring hands found bits of broken objects – a sword hilt here, a plated belt there – interwoven into the rubbish. Grandur blinked as the seemingly random pile of trash suddenly resolved itself into a vaguely humanoid shape wrapped from head to toe in strips of scroll parchment and pages from dusty tomes. Pieces of tattered magic belts, robes and chainmail were haphazardly integrated into its form. “Unless I miss my guess, this is a grisgol,” Grandur said. A paper-wrapped arm suddenly reached up to grasp Grandur by the throat, and from within the cavity formed by a dented magical helm, a dead-white glow from two eyes began to gleam. “It’s a grisgol,” Grandur wheezed. There was rustling sound as torn bits of paper, cards and tomes began to shoot forth from the coffin in all directions. A tornado of paperwork loomed over the party as the grisgol stirred. It creaked as it moved, with bones of broken wands and staves lashed together by barbed wire and artifice. Grandur recalled that enterprising wizards could create constructs from scraps of broken and expended magical items and powered, some said, by the essence of a lich. “Powered by a what?” Varien said as Fiendsbane rattled. “It’s a construct! Its form immutable,” Grandur blurted. “It’s resistant to spell damage, and immune from most conditions that would affect the living.” “How about fire? Is it immune to that?” Varien asked. Grandur shrugged as he backed away. “Do you have anu adamantine weapons perhaps?” The other vortexes of papers began to form themselves into roughly humanoid features composes of stacks of hardbound grimoires and tomes. “Walking book shelves?” Alec said. “Now I’ve seen everything.” “Cute!” Grandur said. “I should like one as a pet.” The book constructs began to ball up their softcover hands into tightly rolled-up newspapers menacingly. “Eep!” Grandur said. Lord Thestus backed away from the danger. Siegfried cast a hex on the creature and unleashed his eldritch blast . Four skeletal librarians, shushing everybody with a bony finger pressed to their missing lips, rounded on the grisgol and began shelving books from the grisgol’s body, ripping and tearing paper between each shushing motion. “Erwen! When I block something off, leave it well enough alone!” Siegfried called out. “SHHHHHHHH!” the nearest eldritch librarian hissed. Seeing the grisgol’s resistance to his magical attack, Siegfried said, “All right, it’s weaponized violence, boys!” Violance rushed the grisgol intent on trampling it under its hooves. Siegfried hopped into his saddle. “Bob! Burn it!” Siegfried said. Varien weighed his options. “Remember, we’re going to fight a vampire after this,” Siegfried said. Varien turned around. “Well, what do you want me to do?” “I don’t know, hit it with your sword, maybe?” Siegfried said. Varien rolled his eyes. “Thestus, stay back!” Varien called as he rushed the grisgol. He cast a vow of enmity on the construct and swung with his sword, slashing it. Shreds of paper flew. “I’ll have you know I read every book in the Lorelei Library!” Varien said as he hacked at the grisgol. Planetar-wen grappled the grisgol, gripping at the objects lodged in its guts. He pulled the construct close and growled, “You should have read the fine print!” As he headbutted the construct there was an explosion of dust, mould and spores. Planetar-wen, Alec, and Varien were caught in the cloud. “Sylvanus-dammit, Erwen!” Siegfried said. “Just use your sword!” Grandur pulled out his alchemist’s jug and splashed its contents at the grisgol. He misjudged the angle of attack, however, and the oil splashed on Alec instead. His muscled skin glistened in the light of several magical auras. “Dang it, that sucks,” Grisgol said, suddenly uncomfortable. He used his telekinesis ability to shove the grisgol. He knocked the construct’s legs out from under it and gawked when it stayed upright, its legs scrabbling to one side of the plinth. “How curious,” Grandur said as the construct found its footing. Alec took out his tinderbox, set the oil on his body on fire, and then channeled the flames into his axe, Oathtaker . He then swung recklessly with his fiery axe, enraged. The blows rattled the immobilized grisgol. “Don’t touch me, you might burn yourself!” Alec snarled at the construct. Bob cast a ray of enfeeblement on the grisgol and telekinetically shoved the nearest book golem into the wall of the vault. Then he backed out of the chamber. From outside in the hallway, Calvin the thug turned around and bolted out of sight. The book golem to the north began casting a spell reading from scrolls embedded in its body, which Grandur counterspelled with a flourish, creating an abjuration ward . The second book golem followed suit, and Bob counterspelled that effort. The third book golem began casting but Siegfried’s counterspell stopped it in its tracks. The fourth book golem cast hypnotic pattern . A twisting pattern of swirling colours overshadowed the room for a moment. Alec’s eyes widened as he was hypnotized by the golem’s magic. He stood stock-still, flames rising from his oiled body. Lord Thestus beat a hasty retreat. The construct growled in Abyssal. “BY THE POWER OF GRISGOL!” Various bits of parchment began to glow on the construct’s body as the grisgol cast chain lightning. Bolts of lightning arced out from the construct, striking Varien, Siegfried, Alec, and Grandur. Varien hefted his shield and deflected the lightning bolts. Grandur recoiled as the lightning bolts blasted him, but managed to resist the worst of it. The lightning knocked sense back into Alec. Siegfried also managed to avoid the worst of the lightning damage. Violance reared up and thrashed the grisgol with his hooves. Siegfried’s scarf wound itself around his mouth and nose and protected the half-orc from the explosion of mould spores. Siegfried swung Azuredge but missed the construct. Siegfried slashed again and struck the grisgol squarely with a flourish. Grandur stared in awe at his majestic horseback hero. “It is an honour to watch you work,” he said reverently. “Sune, give me strength,” Varien said, channeling his divine power. He held his sword close to his chest as he prayed, Fiendsbane glowed with power as divine energy was channeled into it. Then, in a smooth motion, he uppercut the grisgol with his magical sword, slashing through its broken-wand frame, until the blade was pointed heavenward. The grisgol began to discombobulate noisily. Much of its component parts fell back into the coffin, while other pages and scraps of scrolls drifted like confetti in a ticker-tape parade. Shards of broken magical items clanked together as bits of fire turned paper into cinders. Varien dashed towards the nearest book golem, slashing the construct and unleashing a divine smite. Planetar-wen held his hands out, catching bits of the dead grisgols components. As the mould and dust cloud cleared, he dropped his invisibility and stood majestically over the sarcophagus. “Ah! An angel!” Grandur said. Planetar-wen winked at Grandur and then flew to the nearest book golem, slashing at it with his holy sword twice, cleaving through it with two mighty swings. The golem cast shield to block his second attack. Grandur was impressed at the party’s efforts. Not to be outdone, he cast chromatic orb and created a fiery ball that he threw at the nearest book golem, hitting it dead-center where its chest would be. The book golem frantically beat at its chest to put out the flames. Embers glowed in its interior. Grandur then telekinetically pulled it towards him forcibly with a menacing glare. The construct tried to find its footing on the marble floor as it was dragged towards the wizard. Alec swung Oathtaker recklessly and slashed at the book golem three time, turning a novel into a short story. Lord Thestus cowered near Bob. “You look like a competent enough fellow,” Thestus said shakily. “I have every confidence in your ability to protect me.” Bob moved forward, twinning a fire bolt spell. Using finger guns, he shot two bolts at the two nearest book golems. “Bang! Bang!” he said, blasting his targets. One of them burned to a pile of curled blackened embers. Bob blew smoke from his index fingers and then holstered his “pistols.” “Bravo! Well met!” Thestus clapped as Bob line danced back to cover. One of the remaining book golems began to cast a spell, but Siegfried counterspelled . Grandur counterspelled another book golem’s attempt to attack with magic. Grandur’s protective verses infused Alec with additional vitality. The third book golem produced a joke book and cast hideous laughter. “I don’t find you funny,” Varien said as he slowly pushed the book down, closing it. Violance charged another book golem, which dodged. Siegfried leaned down and slashed at it with his magical axe. Varien cast create bonfire and created a raging fire atop the book golem. The construct burst into flame. Planetar-wen slashed at the book golem with his magical greatsword, devastating the construct as he nearly cut it in half. Pages began to fall out from the books that made up the construct’s body. The planetar looked the golem sternly. “Your books are overdue!” he said, slashing the golem with a critical strike that snapped its spine and caused all of its pages to tumble out onto the floor, ink running onto the floor like blood. Grandur ran to the east and cast shocking grasp on the book golem that was squaring off against Siegfried and Violance. Alec recklessly swung Oathtaker and hacked his target apart. It swayed on its feet unsteadily. Bob rushed into the room, slid across the marble floor and, from between Alec’s legs, cast firebolt with a flourish. The book golem blew apart. The book golem within the bonfire tried to escape but burned to a crisp. Small arcane explosions erupted along its limbs and chest. Its neck reared back as the its open-book face fluttered between different pained expressions like a flipbook animation. It snapped forward, running towards Varien in one last defiant attack, but its legs and arms lost their shape, and its momentum carried the mountain of books forward, collapsing in front of the paladin. At the center of the smouldering pile, one last book fluttered through pages, until finally slamming shut. The room grew quiet save for the hissing and popping of burning embers. Varien examined the remains of the grisgol, discarding the broken and unusable magic item shards dismissively. He pulled out from the piles of paper a cryptic compendium written in luminous script and bound in stained glass plates. He read the title of the book, which was written in Infernal. “ The Infernal Fragments of Ilmin,” he read aloud. Grandur too sifted through the pile of grisgol components, as to him it represented the largest prize of forbidden arcane knowledge. “Not all of the books are burned away,” said Bob as he looked at the fallen golems. “Let’s see what we can find and take,” Siegfried said. Erwen retrieved a set of carved wooden slates bound by a fine chain . “ The Book of Aquatic Creatures ,” he said, reading the title. Violance nosed around in the ashes and drew out a lacquered elm box, which contained a set of engraved stone slates. “ The Unearthly Incunabulum of Gili ,” the nightmare read. “Sounds boring.” Siegfried fished around in the remains of a book golem and found a tome bound in monstrous hide. “ The Fiendish Scrolls of Pylasid,” he read the title. “A promising read, no doubt.” Grandur found a hardcover tome, its covers buttressed with burnished corner fittings. On its front cover were inscribed several sigils arranged in an eldritch circle around a central orb. There was no title inscribed on its cover, but as he stared at the ring of sigils, Grandur was seized with a name, whispered to him by an ancient, desiccated tongue. I AM THE CODEX ANATHEMA . “Oh, I’ve heard about this,” Grandur said to himself. Librarians whispered the name of this book in hushed tones. Compiled by a wizard known as Iphegor of the Ebon Mirror, who lived more than a thousand years ago. It was said that he transcribed the tome while staring into the eldritch depths of the Ebon Mirror, a powerful and ancient artifact that could be used to communicate with aberrations beyond the material plane. In fact, Iphegor had also penned a companion volume to the Codex Anathema entitled the Codex of Abberations that contained the incantations necessary to activate the Ebon Mirror. Dangerous knowledge, indeed, Grandur thought. He made as if to open the book, but then hesitated. In his mind he heard whispers of Deep Speech. Alec found a book, barely intact, entitled “The Deepwalker Chronicles.” Bob discovered a tome entitled Forty Years Before the Doors: A Life in Service by Zanthravas Rolovantar, Lord Chamberlain of Castle Waterdeep. “A tell-all book?” he said. “Lord Thestus, stealing ancient books over here, would you like to join us?” Siegfried said. “Why, is it my birthday?” Lord Thestus said. He rummaged around and came up with a book of his own. “Ah, Atydes' Grimoire of Psychometabolism ! That sounds like fireplace reading for certain. Now all one needs is an overstuffed chair and an overstuffed bottle something fine to sip while one turns the pages.” Violance discovered another book, an eldritch libram written in illuminated script upon vellum and bound in monstrous hide trimmed with bone. It was written in Abyssal. Varien considered the title of his book and vowed to do more research into Ilmin. Grandur continued to search through the piles of paper the grisgol left behind, a strong feeling that he needed to piece together the torn and ripped pages together in order to unlock hidden, mysterious knowledge. “I must make it make sense,” he muttered. “Make it make sense.” He grabbed handfuls of paper and began pocketing them. “Grandur, here’s a Folio-Filer X-500 I picked up in the gift shop in Ieirithymbul,” Siegfried tossed the organizer to the wizard, who began collecting the pages and sorting them into the collating accordion folds. Grandur manifested his ghostly raven familiar, who began to pick up scraps of scrolls and pack them into the wizard’s pockets. “If anyone happens to have a cursed item, please place it in one of our bags of holding for safekeeping until we can get them to a proper cursebreaker,” Siegfried said. Grandur muttered to himself. “I’m more of a proper cursebreaker than anyone around here.” “Grandur! I know that look!” Siegfried said. “Is your book talking to you?” “Oh! Uh, well! Ah, you don’t know that!” Grandur said. “Grandur, I’m not trying to rob you, I’m trying to help you,” “I don’t want to give it to you thought,” Grandur said. He pulled out the book, gingerly dusting it off. As his fingers played over the book, he heard something. DON’T GIVE ME TO HIM the book whispered. “But what if it loses its lustre if we do something to it?” Grandur said, his eyes locked on the book. “We’ll deal with it later,” Siegfried said. The Codex Anathema was now whispering to Grandur in an antediluvian tongue with increasing urgency. Grandur couldn’t understand it, but he grokked the book’s general meaning. “No,” Grandur said, pulling back the book from Siegfried. “I’m just going to put it in my pouch,” he said. “Oh, look at the book that Violance found!” Siegfried said, pointing to the nightmare. Violance was chewing on a book. “Look at the book I found,” it muttered. “No! No! Stop that!” Grandur said, rushing over to the nightmare and tried to pull the book from its mouth. Smoothly, Siegfried retrieved the Codex Anathema from Grandur’s pouch and dropped it into his bag of holding . Grandur was indignant. He snatched at the book from Violance. Violance let the wizard pull on it until he was off-balance, and then let it go, sending Grandur sprawling. Grandur examined the cover of the book, which now bore equine tooth marks. “ The Thunda Shards ,” Grandur read the book’s title, wiping hot, steaming nightmare saliva from the hidebound cover. “Now Grandur, I did borrow that codex of yours and put in in my bag of holding for safekeeping,” Siegfried said. “If you can’t see the book’s brain, you’re in trouble.” “What?” Grandur said. “Oh, fine,” he sighed. “Books shouldn’t talk,” Siegfried said. “You taught me that.” “You’re right and I’m letting it get the better of me,” Grandur said. “I should know better than to distrust you.” Varien rolled his eyes. “I know your sanctum is protected against this sort of thing,” Siegfried said. “I will give it back to you once we’re clear of this crypt, I promise. I value you too much to let you be possessed by a book in this horrible place.” “You’re always looking out for me, Siegfried,” Grandur said. “Oh, brother,” Varien said under his breath. Grandur looked at the cover of the Thunda Shards and recognized alchemical symbols punched into the leather. “Neat!” he said. Varien moved the grisgol wreckage aside, getting to the bottom of the sarcophagus and discovered a false bottom in the coffin. There were two tiny holes drilled into the door, which slid aside to reveal a very narrow set of stairs descending downwards into a cramped tunnel that headed east beneath the locked door before the party. “I know there’s a lead-lined box floating above us,” Siegfried said. “Grandur, would you like to check that tunnel out?” “If you say so, sure!” Grandur said. He climbed gingerly into the coffin and wriggled down the stairs, moving through the narrow tunnel that led to a small, steep staircase, atop which was a trapdoor. Grandur opened the trap door and climbed out, and found himself in a surprisingly well-appointed ornate chamber, its walls panelled with thick mahogany. The southern wall was line with coathooks, and a finely carved door was set in the northern wall. “This is as nice a vestibule that I’ve ever stood in,” Grandur said to himself. Looking to the west, Grandur saw the locked door that had stymied his companions. It was a round portal and contained eight locks around its perimeter. Grandur frowned as he began to set out his various toolkits, muttering to himself about the best approach to unlocking the door. Planetar-wen grew bored of his companions’ activities and turned his attention to the marble walls. As he counted the marble tiles, he found an irregularity on the wall, a six-inch-by-six-inch marble plate so thin that he realized he could discern light and movement through it. He pressed his face up against the translucent stone and peered through it. He saw a large eye, bloodshot and crazed, staring back at him.