Ilya Oftwrong |
At Vharg's words, Ilya's face turns bright crimson.
Swing that over-sized sword of yours a thousand times, and you will not so much as scratch a ghost. But, as you will. The spirits of the dead hold no mysteries from me. I do not fear them. Nor, do I seek their company.
"Put her body on the bed.
Take a knife and lop her head.
Watch the blood come out the pipe.
Feeds the stirge, so nice and ripe.
Drops of red so sparkly bright.
Splatters spell her name just right.
With a hammer, killed his wife.
Now he wants to claim your life.
Tricksy father tells a lie.
Listen close or you will die."
Ilya casts ghost sound at the lake (DC 14 to disbelieve). ;)
Perrah Snowenglen |
Perrah nods and then heads towards the courtyard. "I'll just be a moment. A quick look-see is all. Meet you at the pond."
I am sure that there are ghosts and spirits but time to show I am not just a bookworm.
Perception check 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Vharg Half-Man |
Good Catch! Hearing the wispers Vharg glances around nervously "Dis you hear that? Sounded like children singing... Vharg not see anything though." gripping his Guisarme with both hands Vharg creeps towards lake. "Nothing here but Vharg still heard voices, you here anything Ilya? You have sharp ears." Vharg walks along the lakes edge and peers into the murky water "Perhaps there something here"
Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Spitting into the water Vharg turns back to his compaions. "Could be wind, not children singing. Vharg not scared of wind."
Mortimer Valdebridge |
Mortimer frowns as Vharg and Ilya go off towards the pond and Perrah towards the prison. He hesitates for a second, then moves after Perrah. "Plenty of time for that later Perrah." he calls out to her. "We need to stay together." He aims to guide Perrah back towards the rest of the group and in the direction of the pond, though he keeps well back from the water.
Ilya Oftwrong |
"Nothing here but Vharg still heard voices, you here anything Ilya? You have sharp ears."
"I hear what you hear, my friend. Night and day the spirits speak to me, or around me, or through and through me. You can take me at my word when I tell you that I fear no ghosts. But, they are not our friends. We must be careful."
Perrah Snowenglen |
Perrah pouts at the ranger but nods at his common sense. "Of course." she adds meekly.
Another time I'll wait until that busybody is ....busy.
She comes up next to Vharg and Ilya. "Ghosts. Yes there are ghosts. Its the stone. Vestiges of death have been proven to inhabit the stone for decades. Savage murder or other strong emotions emit a powerful energy capable of holding such auras in a vessel like a building. A prison fire would be extremely likely to do this."
Mortimer Valdebridge |
Following Perrah, Mortimer glances back at the prison as though checking to see if anything is following them. As he catches up to her, he nods and smiles, "I have come to very much the same conclusions from my own research, Perrah." he says enthusiastically. "We must compare notes sometime."
DM Jonasty |
Sorry all, work delays.
You're unable to find the exact spot where the Professor died, but given the state of the prison and the debris lying around it, it's easy enough to imagine that his death was an accident. It is also equally easy to see that it could very well have been made to look that way given the state of the grounds.
Moving towards the lake, you all get an eerie feeling of being watched although try as you might you can't seem to spot any eyes on you. Coming to the lake's edge, you realize that lake is a generous word, pond probably being more appropriate. It stretches across most of the eastern property and you can just see that it appears to have entered part of the prison as some of Harrowstone's eastern wall has collapsed.
That being the case, this lake could be 100ft deep or as little as 10 although it's hard to tell from the shore line.
As you're examining the lake, some of you catch a glimpse of something at the base of the prison. You had all glanced past it at least once but upon closer inspection you all see the curving lines of runes and script running all along the base of the building, where the foundation of the prison met the earth. Glancing back the way you came, you can see this writing looks to stretch along the length of the prison. Looking close you can see that the words appear to be written in dried blood and that some of them have since been scrubbed away.
Perrah Snowenglen |
Perrah leans her head to one side and begins pointing out the odd word trying to piece together the Varisian code.
"Lye-, leave and? eagle? no Hawk, yes its a name! Lyvan Hawkran."
Linguistics 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21, Knowledge (arcana) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Perrah shrugs. "Never heard of that person, but that is a magical ritual or spell or I am a elf. Not sure what kind though." she mutters.
Ilya Oftwrong |
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
"A mystery, to be sure. But, this name, 'Hawkran', I've seen before carved into stone, much as it is now."
A large stone statue, it's covered in moss and vines and rises some 25 feet into the air. The top of it is a carved likeness of a large man looking protectively into the distance and is identified on the statue as a depiction of Warden Hawkran. Carved into the statue's base are the names of all who perished that night in the fire, the guards names as well as the warden's and his wife's.
Mortimer Valdebridge |
Mortimer frowns when Alexei and the others have committed their collective knowledge to the problem. He takes a moment to measure his next comment. "I think it clear that the Whispering Way were responsible for these writings, and thank you Alexei for informing us as to their use. Perhaps yourself or Perrah can enlighten us as to what exactly Abjuration might have to do with it. I am admittedly no expert on matters arcane." he says. "I think thanks to Petros' failure to stop them, the Way has achieved their purpose here. He theorised that they were interested in someone who died in that fire. We all assumed that meant one of the prisoners. Maybe this..." he indicates the name written on the foundation, "gives us another possible candidate. As for the writing on the statue... I don't know if this is the same, but there may be a causal link between the ritual having been performed here, and the blood on the statue. I don't know if it's the Whispering Way themselves, or something they set in motion when they interfered in the balance of this accursed prison."
Perrah Snowenglen |
"Why do you believe that the Whispering Way did this? For myself abjuration (protective magic) and necromancy (death magic) seem to indicate some kind of ward, perhaps even a ring of protection to keep spirits in. Specifically that would mean keeping Lyvan Hawkran in. Although if the Way are responisble then maybe they would want to lock down the warden. But that theory would be predicated on the warden being inside and alive. Or unlive to be more precise."
Ilya Oftwrong |
"I'm confused. Is 'Lyvan' the name of the Warden or his wife? Is the spell meant to protect Lyvan, or trap Lyvan? Perhaps it is meant to enhance or weaken this Lyvan, in some way, or to prepare him for a return from death."
Ilya removed some parchment, ink, and a pen from his pack, and began scribing the words.
"We should show these to Alendru Ghoroven and Father Grimburrow. They may be able to give us more insight."
Vharg Half-Man |
Standing in front of the blood dabbed runes, Vharg towers over Ilya, looking over his shoulder as he scribbles the runes "That not make spell again?" Cautiously Vharg steps away from the halfling. "So there where Shran-Tok died. Clear that death no accident. Blood majik was used here." Turning to Randu and Ilya, Vharg ponders for a few breaths before continuing. "Village chattel not like us, but seem to start trusting both of you. Think this proof enough for us to sack crypt Shran-Tok spoke of in his death-note?" Looking around the ruined wall and sunken lake Vharg rolls his shoulders and readjusts his grip on his Guisarme. "Vharg want to keep looking, at least on walls and big yard. Then we go back to town and talk to death priest and long beard?"
Perrah Snowenglen |
Jumping in with both feet before Mortimer can stop her, Perrah grabs for the chance Vharg gave her, "Good idea, Ilya. You are right, Vharg, the courtyard it is. I'll lead."
She scurries ahead and into the courtyard, a fixed smile on her face, and crossbow leaning over one shoulder.
Ha, now they can see I'm no cowardly bookworm!
Mortimer Valdebridge |
Mortimer frowns. "Any use of Necromantic magic is bad in my books." he says gruffly. He looks at Ilya. "Lyvan was the Warden, if I am not mistaken. A warden..." he gazes up at the prison thoughtfully. "Maybe the Way wanted him out of the way. Maybe he still served this place in death as he did in life, as a jailor to all the murderers and monsters within... If this is the case, maybe they removed him to get at something else within..." he muses. At Vharg's words, he nods and says, "I agree Vharg, let's look around the outside of the prison some more. Maybe there will be variations of this incantation somewhere that will give us more information." Glaring sternly at the others, he adds, "But we are not going inside until we can arm ourselves properly!"
DM Jonasty |
Moving back around the prison, now that you're looking for it you can see evidence of bloody writing along the foundation of the prison. Much of it looks old or rubbed away but it's still legible as more writing of what you've already found, the phrases and name repeated over and over.
Checking out the front steps of the prison itself, they look old and worn, stone collumns supporting the sagging roof. The main doors hang from the entry way and you catch shadowed glimpses of the interior although nothing you can make out clearly.
Making your way around the grounds, you see steps leading up to an upper balcony on the western side of the building. Past this at the rear of the prison near the wall you can see a small pit dug into the ground. Even with the time, the smell hits you as you move closer and you're able to easily gather that this was the cesspit for the prison's refuse and time has not helped to diminish the smell.
Returning to the front path, you gather yourselves to decide what to do next.
Alrighty, back to it after the long weekend. What's the plan? You guys have explored the exterior grounds and nothing has caught your eye outside of the bloody markings. There isn't much else to tell unless you want to enter the building or check our the second floor balcony/ledge on the western side.
Mortimer Valdebridge |
"It grows close to sunset. I think we need to return to town. Now may be the proper time to petition the Pharasmins to let us investigate the false crypt. We can wait until morning if need be." Mortimer says back at the main path, his hat pulled low to shade his eyes from the sun low in the sky.
Vharg Half-Man |
"Mortimer is wise. Until we know more we may want to wait to explore during day time. Vharg think it good idea to see this false crypt. Mabey show death priest the runes we found. Next time, we look at battlements and go inside though!"
Ilya Oftwrong |
"It grows close to sunset. I think we need to return to town. Now may be the proper time to petition the Pharasmins to let us investigate the false crypt. We can wait until morning if need be."
"Sounds sensible to me. Everyone get a good last look at Harrowstone. Perhaps you're not as 'Harrow'-ing as we all fear," Ilya said as he patted the stone wall.
Ilya will use his Spirit of Community revelation one more time (granting everyone a +1 competence bonus on a skill check for 1 round).
Survival Check (using bonus) to look for recent tracks or evidence of WW Cultists' recent presence: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 5 + 1 = 23
Vharg Half-Man |
"You look for tracks? Vharg have sharp eyes, and know how to tell difference between dog and wolf, Vharg help. Vharg not afraid Perrah! But Blood Majicks were done here. If Blood Majicks then Shamans, and that means this place was important somehow. Shamans not waste time with meaningless things."
Vharg will aid another Ilya for survival tracking and give him the +1 from Spirit of Community, so a total to +3 to his track roll
Survival 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
DM Jonasty |
Scanning the ground and the area around the prison you discover numerous tracks but except for some small animal marks, you don't discover anything remotely new. Given the abandoned nature of the area, it's unsurprising that all you're able to find are dozens of old tracks that criss-cross each other.
As the sun begins to sink low in the sky, you head back towards town.
I probably won't have the next update posted until morning (US EST), so feel free to have IC discussions "on the way back to town."
DM Jonasty |
The walk back to town is uneventful, although it does get a little chilly as the wind picks up and the sun lowers. Moving back through Ravengro, you can see signs of the day winding down. Villagers moving about, finishing tasks and the like. Some head to their homes, others to the taverns, and some simply chat with each other.
Most noticable to you all is that the villagers all seem to be more open to your presence. None come up to you directly or anything but friendly nods as you pass and a few casual greetings are tossed out. Curious as to your reception, you listen in casually and hear mention that Luramin and Quess have apparently been telling folks about your honor and trustworthiness. How you're fair people who don't assume the townsfolk are "stupid locals" and try to cheat them. (See campaign tab for info on town Trust score.)
A somewhat lighter step carries your feet as you enter the temple to Pharasma and see Father Grimburrow sorting some things and generally looking like he's getting ready to head home for the day. He looks up at you as you enter the church. Greetings again strangers. How can I help you folks tonight?
Ilya Oftwrong |
Greetings again strangers. How can I help you folks tonight?
I'd hoped by now you would think of us as more than strangers! Ilya pouted. Ah well, perhaps you will think us friends, after tonight. Though, you may as likely think us the harbingers of doom!
Ilya dug around in his pack for a while until he pulled out the paper he had scribed. Can you read this, Father? I can translate as necessary. It's Varisian.
Ilya hopped from one foot to the other, impatiently as Grimburrow read the scribbles. (I'm assuming the good Father can read it.) That incantation is scribed all around the base of Harrowstone. It is time to be frank with you Father. The good Professor's death was no accident. He was investigating agents of the necromancy cult known as the Whispering Way. Are you familiar with it?
Everyone cool with me asking about the false crypt? That will be in my next post unless someone else chimes in.
DM Jonasty |
Grimburrow looks over the scrawled words you copied from the prison. He passes it back over after a few moments. I can read the text easy enough. But understanding I'm afraid is a little beyond my grasp. If I had to guess I'd say some of those phrases are magical in nature but that's never been my specialty.
As you mention the Whispering Way his face takes on a look of disgust. Foul heathens, that lot. This world would be best served if they were wiped from the face of the earth. That being said, I don't know much in the way of actual facts about them. Only that if you can discount half of what you hear as lies and exagerations, the remaining half is still abominable.
If what you say is true, then we can only be thankful that the monsters simply killed the poor Professor. Given the tales, they could have done much worse.
Grimburrow isn't able to help at all with the writing you copied. As for the WW, he has a basic knowledge but nothing specific or that you don't already know.
Ilya Oftwrong |
If what you say is true, then we can only be thankful that the monsters simply killed the poor Professor. Given the tales, they could have done much worse.
They may have done worse. This ritual has elements of necromantic and abjurative magic about it. The spirits of the fallen in Harrowstone are restless, and this spell has aroused them further. Ravengro may be in great danger.
Ilya shuffled his feet. The Professor's journal gave us clues to unraveling this mystery... If the cultists are to be stopped, and your town protected, we must investigate further. But, we are ill equipped to face the angry spirits of the dead...
The clerics of Pharasma are no novices to the plague of undead. In its history, this temple housed a cache of weapons to battle the spectral undead. With your permission and blessing... we'd like access to these weapons.
Ilya uses Spirit of Community.
Diplomacy + bonus: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 1 = 20