|Tibideau Maroon LeClerc|
Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Tibideau shrugs. "I know as much as you, Anton. But if anyone gets any diseases," he continues, curling his lip in distaste, "I can fix them!"
If he buys a scroll of Remove Disease. We need to pick up a cleric!
He joins in with Dantrian's questioning. "Yes, Karl, any information you could give us would be fantastic!"
"Before we depart, Karl, do you recall anything specific about the layout of Sanctuary? What can you tell us of the structure prior to the fire? How many patients did the doctor tend to and was the facility kept at capacity? Information of this sort might also prove helpful."
"Though called an isle, Karb is actually an isthmus. The sanctuary was a single manor house, now it's just a pile of rubble and burnt timber. I'm not sure how many patients exactly were there when the fire came. I'd guess between and eight and ten."
The module gives no details about the structure, it's former operation, or the amount of patients who were there.
"Ah, so the fire claimed the structure entire then? More so the pity. Our apologies for dredging up such recent traumas, Karl. Thank you for your time." With that, Dantrian rises and silently looks to the others for any final questions. If none are offered, he nods once and departs without another word.
Sanctuary lies some 3 miles north of Lepidstadt along the Lesser Moutray river. A narrow track follows the western shore of the river, passing through depressingly gray marshland before arriving at the lonely ruins of Sanctuary on Karb Isle. The ride to Karb isle takes about half an hour.
The sad remains of a broken building lie on a spur of land jutting into the river. The burnt timbers of a large house sag into the undergrowth of nettles and thistles. Nature is taking back this charred ruin, as if trying to erase dark memories. Nearby, a small cluster of gravestones jut from the weeds.
Searching the ruins...
Karl wasn't exaggerating when he said the fire claimed the structure, this place is decimated. No wonder there were no survivors. Anton trudges through the devastation of charred beams and detritus. I'm not entirely sure what we can find here to help our case.
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
B'yelka follows Anton into the charred ruins, wondering if anyone even tried to stop the blaze. Apparently, Mr Klasnic does not see the hole is about to step into, "Careful Anton!" B'yelka points out the hole and then peers into it. "A well?"
Take Ten on the DC15 Perception; DC 25 Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Anton's foot slips over the edge of the hole but he shifts his weight backward and lands on his rear with and undignified thump.
Picking himself up and dusting himself off with a laugh he says;
The traveller sees Desna's glory all around. But if he doesn't watch where he's going he's liable to fall down a damn hole!
My thanks, B'yelka. Now what could this be? B'yelka, Tibi - can you shed some light down there?
The hole clearly opens into some kind of larger chamber, though it's difficult to see much from above. A pair of large water casks sits beneath the shaft. The room appears to be about 15' feet high as well, putting the floor about 30' down. A very unpleasant smell wafts from the hole, a miasma of damp rotting organic matter.
Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
"Let's drop a light down and then lower ourselves with a rope. There might ght be something down there which can show us what exactly happened here."
"It stinks like this whole country." B'yelka's blanche may be from the smell or the unitentional pun. Regardless, she whistles a tune, casting light on a copper, then the Diva drops the copper down the hole.
Seriously considering Blur now...