Session 18: The Plot, Finally Revealed

A hush fell over the Biblioplex today, though the crowds—oblivious—carried on as usual. Nothing seemed amiss at first. But as those in the know will understand, appearances can be dangerously deceiving. Under tall shelves and arched alcoves, a group of determined investigators settled down with open tomes and cups of lukewarm beverages, ready, they claimed, for a routine study session. Yet they found anything but routine when the odd squeak of a doll’s voice emerged from a satchel. “Gross,” it complained in a tinny voice, as though it could sense something foul in the very air.

At once, the doll’s presence provoked uneasy curiosity. Why now, and why here? This same figure, known for its sassy one-liners, had played a minor part in a broader tangle of Strixhaven mysteries long ago. Its reappearance signaled an uncanny disturbance. As the group turned it over in their hands, the doll spoke twisted phrases: “Books are so boring” and “Are we seriously studying right now?” Some might dismiss this as a parlor trick, but these inveterate sleuths recognized a larger meaning. They doggedly followed the doll’s gaze across a row of books, honing in on a specific tome titled The Long-Boring History of Strixhaven. The scribbled corners and cracked spine spoke of ancient authorship, but its placement on an irrelevant shelf was even stranger.

They drew the volume down and leafed through the pages, discovering histories of founder dragons and hints of an elusive Oracle—grand tales that could easily lull the inattentive into a doze. Most readers might have closed the dull hardcover right there, but not these. They noticed subtle phrases describing how Strixhaven’s dragons once appointed an Oracle to safeguard the world from misused magic. That obscure mention, coupled with the faint echo of the doll’s voice, created a ripple of suspicion. Digging deeper, they pursued clues further into the silent library’s hidden corridors, guided by cryptic references to forbidden sections and suppressed knowledge.

In a neglected aisle, they uncovered two additional tomes with matching star-shaped insignias, both curiously blank from cover to cover. Intrigue ignited. Why print such hefty volumes only to leave them void of words? Each blank page felt like a locked door. Undeterred, the investigators riffled pages, tested inks, and discovered that the three tomes—blank and not—must be combined in a particular order. They shelved them precisely, determined to see the pattern through. With a nearly imperceptible shudder, reality shifted.

In a heartbeat, the group found themselves in a dim cave, illuminated only by trickling blueish light from unknown recesses in the rock. A robed figure waited there, exuding both gravity and weariness. She revealed herself as Jigsy, the elusive Oracle that few believed still existed. The Oracle’s voice rang across stone walls with solemn proclamation: a necromantic mage named Murgaxor had unleashed a plague-like contagion around the campus to blind the faculty to his true endgame. He was harnessing a lethal ritual in the distant Caerdoon ruins, so potent it threatened to siphon the life magic from Strixhaven itself. Only those unaffected by the strange black substance could intervene—and the Oracle had watched these investigators prove their resourcefulness time and again.

Her words carried a spark of urgency: “Stop Murgaxor before his ritual is complete.” Little else was said. Almost instantly, the investigators found themselves back in the Biblioplex, the doll and all evidence of the secret meeting vanished. Traces of the Oracle’s message, however, burned in their memories. Determined not to squander the Oracle’s trust, they set out at once to the Caerdoon ruins.

Battered stone turrets and collapsed ramparts greeted them where the fortress at Caerdoon once dominated the landscape. Tangles of leafless trees clawed the air, and a metal-like stench emanated from a moat that proved, on closer inspection, to be a stagnant channel of slime. A sense of foreboding clung to the very soil, as though all light passing over the ruins dimmed into a perpetual half-shadow.

Yet the most daunting discovery lay atop the broken causeway—a shimmering magical dome encasing the fortress grounds. Tendrils of arcane energy crackled across this barrier, ready to repel anyone or anything that dared approach. Experimental prods with conjured flames and spectral hands found the dome sealed tight, destroying each magical test in a flurry of sparks.

The investigators, however, blended intellect with courage. They reasoned that the barrier was attuned to a particular energy and might be forced into a weakness if tackled cleverly. Candle-like flames danced in the gloom as they coordinated their powers, adjusting the barrier’s subtle arcane resonance and discovering how to transform its immunity into vulnerability. This effort required intense focus and nerve. Failure would mean wasted resources—time Murgaxor might use to finalize his dreadful spell. Yet success would buy them a single chance to break through.

One piercing volley of flame struck at the dome—and, with an electrified jolt, it splintered. Heat whorled across the dome’s surface in molten patterns until, at last, the crackling parted to reveal a small breach. Seizing the moment, the group dashed over the ruins of the bridge, stepping through that fleeting passage of sundered energy. Behind them, the hole began to close, the shimmering blockade refilling as though it had never been broken. But onward they went.

So the stage is set beyond those bleak walls. What remains inside the Caerdoon ruins is anyone’s guess, but if the words of the Oracle are to be trusted, a powerful threat lurks at the core—one that thrives in secrecy and subversion, one that only these resolute few seem able to confront. And as your committed investigative reporter, I can only hope they succeed. The very essence of Strixhaven may depend on it.