The Bird Is The Word - Milo (research DTA)

Early one morning, the sun's light barely enough to reveal the line of the horizon, there is a loud banging at Kirhan's door. Opening it reveals Milo Brightmane looking tired and anxious, and an old gnomish man beaming excitedly. Milo speaks rapidly, "I do apologise for the rude awakening Mr Darkfinger, but I just couldn't wait. Might I make use of your collection? Do you have a section on legendary creatures? This is my friend Mr Adrain Dahle by the way." The little old gnome waves good-naturedly.

Kirhan beckons them in. The room is dark save for the early morning embers slowly cooling in the fireplace. After giving life to the fireplace once more and lighting a few candles around the room, the space is washed in a warm glow. There are stacks of loose pages on one side of the main worktop, with recently bound books on the other. On the opposite wall, next to the staircase, is a reading nook. Almost every wall houses a bookcase or shelves of books. Kirhan quietly offers both his guests a hot drink on such a cold morning, and enquires "To what end brings such an early call to my door, and urgency to your voice Master Brightmane?"

"I have had a visitation, Mr Darkfinger, at least I believe so - this was unlike any dream I have ever had. Not only that, it... left a mark upon me." Saying this he plays nervously with the cloth hurriedly bound around both palms. "I must know more, sir. Any writings you have on legendary creatures, specifically the phoenix, if that is possible, I would greatly appreciate it."

Kirhan looks thoughtful for a moment. "Hmm. Yes, perhaps..." and wanders off to a corner of the room. "This one, and this. This? Mm, no. And here..." moving over to a hatched scroll shelf, "these..." Soon a small pile of papers and books has been brought before Milo. "Legendary creatures are a broad category, and popular with researchers, but I think I have narrowed your search a little. A thesis on magical birds, a bestiary of the Elemental Plane of Fire, etcetera."

"Wonderful, thank you so much! Mr Dahle, would you mind taking the scrolls to start with? And I'll start with this red book."

**********

Some hours later, the sun now approaching its peak, Milo has found as much as he feels he is going to, though perhaps not as much as he had hoped. Most of what he had read was already known to him - the phoenix's fiery nature, its strange cycle of death and rebirth, these would be known by almost anyone. One book had been promisingly titled "The Order of the Phoenix", but had in fact been a history of a resistance movement, or possibly a cult of some sort. Far more useful was a book of ancient Dwarvish traditions. Milo scowled at his own ignorance. How had he not known this? Was it part of the acolyte training for the Sonnlinor? It seemed that Moradin would, in some rare instances hundreds of years apart, make use of a phoenix to carry messages to certain devotees. This phoenix could carry Moradin's message to whomever it needed - regardless of language or level of intelligence, it could make itself understood.

This had to be it. The bird about which he had read some time ago, whose feathers could grant the understanding of any language, was the same bird, the phoenix, which had come to him last night and spoken with the voice of Moradin echoing in its words. And it was in danger.

(Thanks to Jonathan P for his contribution)