It doesn't take long for Ivor to figure out how this thing is supposed to work; the chess pieces were supposed to move particular tiny pins in place within, and once all are properly adjusted, the machine should open.
Although he knows exactly how to open it, it's still going to take time, as the pins are buried down inside the machine, and he'll have to work exclusively by touch; however, slowly but surely, he makes progress.
((Quintus, I know you said earlier you wanted to work on deciphering the journal that was found at the library, so if you'd like, you can make a Decipher Script roll to start working on that as you wait))
Finally, after about an hour of careful manipulation, Ivor is able to trigger the unlocking mechanism, and the tree stump unfastens itself from the ground. As it rises, loose dirt and stray roots are kicked up and displaced, and a stone staircase becomes visible, leading down into the ground.
It only goes down about fifteen feet, and at the bottom of the staircase, you are all surprised to see an old man staring at you.
This is a VERY old man; he must have a good twenty years on Curzon the librarian. Liver spots and wrinkles pepper his skin, and a few wispy strands of hair decorate his bald head. His clothing is only one or two steps up from rags. His eyes, however, are full of life and a jittery sort of energy. He is standing in front of an open door, as though he's been waiting for you.
"Finally," he says, and his voice sounds a bit uneven. "I thought you'd never open it!" He laughs abruptly and loudly, then takes a few steps up, studying the four of you with his eyes, paying particular attention to Kaff and Quintus. "You already got two of 'em.... good, good..." Suddenly he whips his head up at attention and blinks. "Well what the devil are ya doin' here?! Time's a wastin'! Might wanna find the rest before it's too late!" He bursts into another fit of inappropriate laughter, then hurries back inside the door, making a motion for you to follow him inside.
Through the door is what could be described as a large office, consisting of three rooms. One has a desk; one has two beds; the other is a sizable storage area. All are very disorganized. There are papers and books strewn about everywhere, all over the floor, all over the desk, and all over both beds. There are no other people here. When you enter, the old man is already rummaging through the storage room, looking for something. He finally emerges with an ancient-looking scroll, and he shoves it at the nearest person.
"Here," he says. He then sits at the desk, leans back in his chair nonchalantly, and picks up a book - seemingly at random - and begins reading it silently, as though none of you are even in the room.
The scroll has writing of a language none of you have ever seen before, and, touching it, you notice that it seems unnaturally durable for a simple sheet of paper - especially one that looks so old.
