Books and folios of hardened leather lined the shelves of the record room, shadows danced on the walls as Ransik walked through the aisles, his oil lamp held in a crabbed hand. He reached the shelf he was looking for and pulled out a slim volume. He held it up to the lamp to see, squinting at the cover. "This should be it," he said weakly as he led them back to his desk and sat down. He put the lamp down beside him and opened the folio. Yellow crackling paper with tiny writing came into view as the four gathered around him.

"The stone you're looking for was indeed here, but it was taken as tribute to the Araawans at Bastia Dominae about a hundred years ago," he read. "It was put on a ship for Melduseld to the east, and the ship docked at the port of Llew. But there was a disaster. Mount Aodh erupted, and I'm afraid the town of Llew was destroyed. We lost all traces of the shipment then. But it should be there." He pulled out a map, the still tongue of fire in the lamp seemed to glint off his weary eyes. "You'll need this."

"We thank you," said the small child. "We will leave in peace, we appreciate your help." One smirked and reached across to take the map, but with the speed of a snake, his hand whipped out to grab the old man by the neck.

He screamed as the lamp exploded right beside him in a violent burst of flame that spread over the old paper, filling the room with fiendish shadows. Ransik stood up, his eyes hard, seeming much younger, stronger than he had appeared before. "You must think I'm a daft old fool," he growled at them as the fire lanced across the room from shelf to shelf. With almost unearthly speed, every shelf was aflame. The old records burned fiercely, lighting them in an orange glow. "This is as far as you go!" He thrust his hands out before him, the fires streaming into a ball of flame that flared and shot towards the four.

===

The sound of the horses' hooves on cobbles of the cloister's cobbles echoed in the empty silence. The beasts were panicked and pulled at the reins as Tynan and Arum tried to drag them from the stables. "You're a bloody druid!" Arum snapped, trying to hold onto the frightened beast. "Bloody do something!"

"You're a damn priest - ask Mezen, why don't you!" Tynan retorted, annoyed to the teeth with Arum.

"They make me feel old." Adam sighed as he held Feather's hand. There was the sudden scent of smoke in the air. "What's that?"

The sound was not whoomph. The sensation was whoomph. The side of the cloister exploded outwards, spewing masonry and flaming shreds of paper that floated down like hellish snow. They saw something else thrown from the flaming room beyond the gaping hole in the three foot thick wall and it rolled horribly till it came to rest a few meters from them. It was Ransik. Adam burried his face in Feather's robes, tearing his eyes from the grisly sight. It was Ransik, only Ransik used to have more than half a skull.

Four figures emerged from the fire, screaming in pain and patting the flames from their clothes and hair. One's side was a mess of blood and soot and he was screaming in rage, his hand bloody and holding something up by a mass of hair.