Arakdi stays silent, merely grunting in acknowledgement as the others apportion the tools. Davor's question seems to pass by him at first, but then it registers and he looks up with a start. His eyes meet the priest's for a long moment before he sighs and looks away again. "As I said before, when I was very young I had a close encounter with the undead. I still live and breath and eat the food of men. But some qualities of the risen cling to me. As you noticed, negative energies have a restorative effect, and I would not react well to the normal curative magics."
He looks up again with a challenging light in his eyes. "But with the Professor's help I have learned to use this against them. I can sense their presence, see through the darkness that conceals them, and resist their attempts to drain my soul. I don't hunger for..." He hesitates a moment. "I don't drink the blood of the living or anything like that. In most ways I am a normal man. No, as a warrior of Iomedae I have weapons against the undead that most lack. In return I have a sensitivity to bright lights and a need to heal my own wounds. Is that really so bad?"
There is an awkward pause, and then Sandman puts a gentle hand on Arkadi's shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with who and what you are! Beautiful and vibrant dreams can spring from the most horrible nightmares of the past. If we are are truly up against foes as evil as we believe they are, we all need to know our own strengths... and weaknesses. I will not be able to heal you, and using my powers to cull the undead will most likely harm you as well... It is good to know this now before we get into a situation where your gravel hurt and I try to heal you with the magic of life... I might need to look into a way to protect you when I channel Desna's energy... What will happen if we need to use a restorative potion upon you? I assume that would do harm as well?"
Sandman looks back to the others. "Well, With this being the case, I recommend that I take one of the healing potions, and you two, Levelle and Uriah, take two of the potions. They will be more useful to you encase I am unable to reach you in your times of need. I will keep my potion in my belt pouch... in the unfortunate event that I fall in our quest... Anyway, we should go into town tomorrow and purchase a bow for Uriah, before we decide to go to the prison."
Kendra has been sitting quietly while you apportion your discoveries, her face growing ever more grim with the likelihood that you mean to travel to the Harrowstone directly. She gives an audible sigh and relaxes in her chair when Sandman suggests that you first travel to town to better equip Uriah before proceeding.
"I've no first hand knowledge of the prison, of course, but, the information my father has collected... I should not think that a building that has suffered fire damage would be very... solid, and when you consider that firearms are controlled explosions," she says and laughs nervously.
"Jofra, the smith, may be able to furnish you with more information. She has the singular experience of having been alive when the prison burned."
I have, like all my people, skill with a bow though I have not studied it with any vigor in the last decade or two...
As Sandman confronts Arkadi Levelle merely cocks an eyebrow and says nothing more, nodding slightly when the half-orc speaks positively of embracing differences. She is otherwise quiet.
Watching Kendra, Levelle pauses for a moment and considers the treasures displayed before them.
If we assume that the Professor was operating with his full capacities, which his journal would support, would it not follow that he then took from the crypt the most powerful and useful of items? If this is the case...these magics before us are not minimal and if the Professor was more greatly armed than this...Perhaps it is best we speak with this Jofra and any others who might know more of the prison.
Arkadi frowns but nods. "Though reluctantly, I am forced to agree with you. My experience in these matters is perhaps a touch short on the practical. Theory, controlled conditions, a few experiments with the Professor. But one haunt was enough to send me fleeing into the night."
"Reckon we can do that Padre, just 'member it ain't my first choice of weapon."
No call to rush in I suppose, we've a month to kill.
Levelle looks at Uriah, a calm look on her face. Perhaps with the mentorship of one of the people that favor the bow as a point of social practice I can help you appreciate the supple elegance of the weapon, first choice or not. Humans often put theirs hands about a bow as though strangling a snake or about to wield it as a hammer. The bow requires a more sensual approach that perhaps I can illustrate for you...
The elf tilts her head slightly and looks to a bookcase, her face placid save for the tips of her ears which seem to turn red ever so slightly. I mean to say the bow is useful is all...
Levelle rises abruptly from her chair. The night is full and late and we are to rise and go to the town? I should get some rest then, as should we all.
Levelle bends down to scoop up Kiire and moves to the stairway with haste, eager to put he last comments behind her.
Uriah keeps his face steady as the elf begins to describe her shooting technique.
Is she making a pass at me?
"Well Miss Mahe that is a new perspective on the subject, reckon I'll take you up on that offer later. If anyone needs me I'll be in my bunk."
Kendra remains staring after Levelle's exit for some time, transfixed. She looks to those remaining finally and coughs softly, slightly red herself. "I believe she is correct," she says. "I've a few more texts I would like to survey before I retire. If there is anything you require, you will find me in the study," she offers, rising.
Arkadi displays some weariness as he stands. "I too will take my leave. In the light of tomorrow's day we can consider what we know, what we seek to discover, and what we should do next." With a bow to the ladies he departs for his own quarters for the night.
"Well then, goodnight all. I shall pray that we all have a restful sleep and pleasent dreams." And with that Sandman takes his leave for the night.
Kendra untrained Stealth
Levelle Perception
As you and Kiire are cowering in the study, the hours of the night wear without incident.
All
You wake to the glorious scent of breakfast wafting up the stairs and your hallways, bacon, oat and honey, which makes the house practically sing with life. Almost literally as the old boards move and creak beneath your steps. You find Kendra at the opposite end of the dining table, her back to you, apparently nibbling at some fruit in a bowl at her left hand while her right is holding a book open beside her, trailing her fingertips over some passage as if to highlight its significance. She looks up as you arrive and offers you a smile that does not reach her eyes.
"Your companions did not return last night," she says almost mournfully, "the brothers. Perhaps there was some difficulties in their home life that called them away? It would have been polite to inform us, no?"
She gestures to the empty seats about her, and the food. "Sit, and share with me," she invites, closing the book and scooting forward in her chair slightly. "I was reading the missive Silvui left open in the study, and acquainting myself some with the Harrowstone's history. Our collection is very small, and... hardly specialized. There are more sources of information available in the town, in its archives," she offers, and then shakes her head softly. "Please, tell me how I might assist your efforts."
Uriah sits silently at the table, taking out his pistol and beginning to clean it.
"Thank you again for your hospitality ma'am. If I recollect we already tried to get more information on Harrowstone and failed. Are there sources other than the church? Maybe we could research that defaced statue? I wish to find out what happened to the Professor but if we're as poorly armed as the others fear I'd rather not rush in."
"The Town Hall holds its records, and it stands to reason that they would have them as far back as when the prison was open, at least," Kendra replies. "And there is Master Ghoroven's library," she almost hisses the name. "He is a wizard, a... mercenary. He teaches the youths of the few families who can afford his tuition."
"Good morning friends! I hope that the creator of dreams had gifted you splendid ones! The food looks most delicious Miss Kendra." Sandman says with a smile as he sits to eat. "All of these are good places to investigate. Kendra, do you mind me asking why hostility towards Ghoroven?"
"In a town with as few options as Ravengro, his practices promote ignorance. Imagine, if he took only a portion of his skill to instructing the residents in the foundations of engineering, the Harrowstone would not be rotting now. The farming folk could achieve greater surplus," Kendra shakes her head. "It is true that the people here are simple, but they've every advantage to progress save the assistance to do so."
Levelle enters with a book in hand, open as she reads while she walks. Kiire the fox slinks into the room after her as Levelle raises her eyes from the book long enough to find a seat and sit. (She sits as close to Kendra and/or Sandman as she can depending on the arrangement of the chairs this is more subconscious than not).
Listening to the conversation about the wizard Levelle gently closes her book and surveys the food looking for morsels to feed herself and Kiire with. As she looks about the table she nods at Kendra's comments, If the withholding of knowledge is merely an issue of payment or desire for wealth then such a thing is lacking in grace or praise...I wonder, how mercenary is this man? Would he do anything for money?
"More the point, a man who sells her services has already explicitly named his price. No need to wonder what it takes to get information from him."
"Yes, but I doubt we have the coin to make such a purchase. Maybe we should look into the other options first, as they seem the more affordable ways to gather information."
"Residents are not particularly... friendly towards outsiders," Kendra says softly, and does not meet your eyes. "I am afraid that you will be subject to worse receptions than yesterday."
Kendra sighs and looks to a point deeper in the house, her eyes seeming to lose focus for a second. "As I've business in the town hall, I can show you the way to the city center, if you wish. Is just as well," she continues and smiles faintly, "if you're to stay the month, you can't wish to spend all your evenings here in this house. There's a tavern and an inn that boast players."
Arkadi arrives to the table late and looking poorly rested. But he does his best to sit straight and enjoy the meal. "You may be right. There is a conspiracy at work here, one we must discover and root out. That means we must mingle with the locals and identify those guilty." He pauses in thought for a moment. "I'd like to at least speak with this Ghoroven and ascertain his motives. And having our more scholarly versed members inspect the records is a good idea. Harrowstone may be the site of the crime, but its motivations and perpetrators lie elsewhere."
An interesting choice of words; "conspiracy", "root", "guilty". While I appreciate your passions you may wish to restrain your commentary when we approach the citizenry. As someone who lived her life in a city rife with visitors, the locals can be come quite rankled by those who do not respect their way of life...Regardless I agree that the records should be examined and this wizard should be talked to. I think if we expect the townsfolk will be watching after us, visiting the mercenary wizard first might look...untoward.
After breakfast, and equipping your gear, Kendra leads you from the house. The atmosphere without is oppressive. You can taste the humidity on the back of your tongue, and feel it swell in your chest. After only a few steps you break into a sweat and look towards the sky. Winds higher up than can offer you relief are distending clouds that are precursors to a storm front across the horizon, and in a certain mood they could almost appear to be bleeding. An ominous black band waits towards the north, for the duration of your walk in the very same direction content to simply tease you.
You pass several small houses that are bustling with activity, farming families rushing to complete their business before the storm rolls in. Young children run through the yards, rough housing, chasing dogs, and squealing at each other. One portly girl knocks a younger brother on the ground and begins pulling his jacket off, but is immediately clobbered with an errant fist to the sound of laughter from other children. Kendra's mood seems to improve watching them as you pass, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. She brushes a rogue curl back behind her hear, cleverly concealing dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief.
As you continue, you recognize a smaller band of children to the side of the road. As you approach, you recognize that these children are not behaving at all like those that you have previously passed. The girls outfits appear somewhat uniform, crisp white dresses, and each of them have their long hair loose and kept from their face by a broad purple ribbon. They are jumping rope in an organized fashion, and it sounds as though they are chanting... something...
Uriah saunters along, seemingly without a care, but he is carefully watching those around him. Upon seeing the girls jumping in unison he stands straight and leans in to Kendra.
"What's this now Kendra?"
Damned odd is what it is.
Knowledge (Religion) [ooc]On whether what those kids are doing have any relation to religion.
"Well, That is an interesting way to play games..." Sandman says, scrutinizing the children.
There are no holy symbols evident on the girls.
Kendra shakes her head at Uriah's question. "I do not know," she answers. "Are they... chanting?"
Kendra moves forward towards the girls and as you come closer, you recognize that the group of five girls are singing. The girls are taking turns jumping the rope while singing two lines of an increasingly disturbing song, then skip out of the rope to let the next girl take two lines. The process is well timed, eerily so, accented by their similar appearances and dress.
Put her body on the bed.
Take a knife and chop 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.
The girls do not seem to mark your approach, for the moment content to continue playing.
Arkadi keeps his head low to try and shade out the painful sun, so his expression is hard to see. Still it's plain he sounds slightly troubled. "Odd. Children have their games and rituals, but those are usually well known in the area. And their dress... I don't recognize the words, though."
Levelle sets her jaw and recites the chant in common in a tone that easily shows her discomfort.
Put her body on the bed.
Take a knife and chop 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.
Levelle shudders and hesitates, Something is wrong here She grits her teeth and casts her orision.
You detect no magic in range of your spell.
The girls stop and stare at the tall lady with the large ears that is casting spells at them, their song interrupted. The jump rope sags between them, and their large dark eyes lack a certain expressiveness, moreso than most children.
"Might be I'm not aware of local customs, but isn't that a little grim for a children's...whoa now, they don't seem to like that Levelle."
Creepy little devils.
"It does sound very... exact. Like a recounting of a specific crime. Or a ritual of some sort. Does anyone recognize its significance?" Arkadi focuses his attention on the area around them as he thinks back through his studies.
Levelle puts her hands up cautiously and steps slightly towards the children, I didn't mean to offend. Can you tell me why you were singing that particular song?
You detect no undead. There is no ritual that you are aware of that matches these little girls skipping rope, arcane or divine.
Levelle, could you throw up a diplomacy roll for me, please?
"Hmm... Do you think they might be possessed? I could cast a protection from evil spell on one of the children, but I need 15 minutes to commune to desna..."
The girls simply stare mutely at Levelle's attempt to communicate. Their hair becomes limp in the oppressive humidity, and sweat rolls down their faces, and they are otherwise fidgeting like real, live girls, but there is something about their dark eyes, peering at Levelle, and then at each of you that seems... off.
Arkadi quickly steps up to bolster Levelle's stiff efforts with a smile that is too easily charming. "That's a very interesting song, children. Can you tell me what it means? I bet smart girls like you know everything about it."
"That was a very interesting song girls, could you tell us more of it?"
The girls look between themselves, and each of you who have stepped up to question them, and begin giggling, slightly reducing the tension. Or does it?
"All girls sing," one girl, maybe two inches taller than the next says in somewhat broken Common. Another near her shakes her head and begins picking at threads in the end of the rope they were turning, cutting eye contact somewhat shyly. "Aye, it's been around forever. I learnt it from my momma."
The girls, calmer now, begin chattering amongst themselves, a petty argument about where they have heard the song before. Some from their cousins, others aunts, one girl even volunteers that her grandmother taught it to her.
Hmm... Well now they are acting normal... I wonder...
"I think I misheard the song, would you kind girls mind singing it again?" Sandman asks, wondering if they even can now that they seem to be out of that trance.
Diplomacy
The girls' eyes widen further at the approach of the Sandman, but after a few moments of stunned silence, several nod and giggling, fall back into their previous formation and begin skipping again. After the first six lines, their faces are once again slack and they have fallen back into the mien of elder children at play, very intent on maintaining the rhythm of their skips with the rhythm of the song and the swing of the rope. On their second pass, performing for an audience, they begin to vary their skipping steps, crossing their legs and clapping as they jump up. The longer you watch, the more like normal children they become.
Levelle frowns slightly as the children continue their play but seem more normal. She had hoped the effect could be wholly replicated but to no avail. It would seem whether it was due to some misunderstanding or passing strangeness the children were once "different" somehow than they were now.
Turning slightly to the other Levelle's tone is cool, The display is admirable and of some skill but perhaps we should continue on our way?
Arkadi nods hesitantly. "Indeed so. I begins to seem to me that we deal with more than a single murder here. There is much strangeness in this town."
"I'm with you Arkadi, something to keep in mind but it ain't making sense right now."
Kendra gives a shake of her head. "I've certainly never heard of it," she says softly, then looks to you all and smiles.
"Jorfa's forge is just ahead," she gestures to a large building to the left from which is pouring a great deal of dark smoke, "the town hall," she gestures to the right, "but the Scroll is further ahead."
Kendra begins walking. "Sometimes there are bands that play in the center, but if you wish for a song, there is none better than the Mistress of the Outward Inn," she says and blushes slightly. "Mistress Vai used to perform in Caliphas."
As you come nearer to the forge, you hear the rhythmic sounds of metal striking metal indicating that someone is working within.
Levelle gestures to the forge, It would seem the smith is about. Shall we?
Levelle gestures to the forge, It would seem the smith is about. Shall we?
"Sounds like a good idea, lets go!"
Kendra gives a brilliant smile, and leads you to the forge, a simple but sturdily built building featuring large timber support beams carved with elaborate runes.
The runes are Dwarven.
The front door of this building stands open slightly, and is held that way by a large iron hook. Standing this close to the opening, you can distinguish the smells of smelting and working metals, and feel the vacuum and pressure shifting inside the building. It would likely correspond to the billowing smoke above if you could see it from this angle. You also see that the door is quite thick, more than two inches. Knocking upon it would likely prove futile.
"Mistress," Kendra attempts to call politely between strikes upon the anvil, but how could raising one's voice be considered so? "Mistress Jofra! I've visitors!"
The strikes scarcely pause, but after a number of beats, a rather thick male figure appears near the crack of the door, but does not make the mistake of blocking it. The lad's face appears young, but his full frame is that of a man grown, easily.
"The Mistress is engaged," the lad says in a voice that does not seem congruous with his speech, as though he has been couched to civility. "Might I ask what this is concerning?"
Arkadi gives the boy a respectful nod and turns on the charm, a transformation now becoming slightly familiar. A winning smile appears from nowhere on his usually dour face, his clipped words become delicate and polite, and honest sincerity radiates from his body. "The simplest explanation is that we're people who had a debt to the Professor, one he passed on to his daughter. Miss Kendra has asked us to look into the odd happenings that haunt this town as a way to discharge that debt. As Mistress Jofra has a long history with the town we were hoping to treat her to lunch so she might share some stories of the past with us. Fixing a thing when you don't know what part is broken isn't an easy task, you see."