Thozar nods his head in agreement with Belir and looks crossly at Morninghawk. "Your lies could have cost us our lives! There better be good reason for this." What kind of a person withholds information from a murder investigation?! Typically, it is the guilty...
"So that's it then? We risk our lives tryin' to find the murderer an' this half-orc lies to our very faces!" As he says this Kragmyr's hand involuntarily falls to the haft of his hammer.
Stand fast! Ulark says, annoyed himself but surprised at the level of anger radiating from the others. Hot tongues lead to hot tempers lead to hot blood . And there's been too much of that all ready.
He turns back to Sara with a scowl. Still, they aren't wrong. he says grimly. Don't know if you knew Rodrick well, but he was a Trunauan just like you. And we've been stabbed, slit, and bitten trying for justice for 'im. Omission's still a lie: we need to know the truth, all of it, right now.
Thuradin glances at the others before turning to face Katreza and Sara "I can understand you wanting to remain hidden for you do not know us and the circumstances of Rodrick's death must have been a shock, but Ms. Mornignhawk you should have known better. The same person or persons responsible for his death have tried twice to kill us now, so I think you can see we're on the same side here."
He sighs a little "Be that neither here nor there we have found you now so I must ask what was your relationship with Rodrik and what do you know of this "investigaion" of his? You apparently thought that whatever you knew was enough to go into hiding in fear for your life, so please tell us."
Gundar understood his companions' anger, but let none of his own show. Something was afoot in Trunau, and it was no time to let irritation close a door they might otherwise walk through. Now was the time for snake-work, patient and ever-ready to strike when opportunity came near.
Sara becomes a truly scary looking individual as she grabs a hot red sword from her fires and starts towards the angry dwarves. "NO ONE SPEAKS TO MY LIKE THAT IN MY ESTABLISHMENT!" she howls.
Katreza then speaks, "Hold, Sara, they mean no harm...". The words are spoken softly, but it has an effect on Sara, who stops her advance.
"Sara was kind enough to hide me, as I too thought my life to be in danger. When you came before, you said nothing that would indicate I was not in danger from you. I am glad you have returned, but calm yourselves quickly, or you will leave here sore and without the answers you seek."
"Rodrik originally approached me to ask for advice while courting Brinya Kelver. The love-struck fool—bless his soul—thought I might have some special insights into the traditions of her people or visions of the couple’s everlasting happiness... but come now, do I look like the romantic type?" He smiles wryly, then shakes his head and moves on. "I couldn’t help him with his relationship, but we gradually became close friends."
"It is no great secret that I was cursed with preternatural visions many years ago, during my time with the Empty Hand. Since I left those savages, many have sought my counsel into matters ranging from the mundane to the dire, but I’m afraid the omens that assault my dreams are nigh indecipherable, even to me, and I have no means of directing them."
"I’d been experiencing vivid hallucinations of white swords or crosses, and dreams of the Plague House outside town. When I told him of them, he seemed to think my dreams might help with his investigation. I told him about my visions as best I could, but the muse of my nightmares is as abstruse as she is unkind."
"To be truthful, I don’t think even he knew exactly what he was looking for. Rodrik had run afoul of a flood troll in the Plague House not long ago, and the poor fellow was convinced it was not just an isolated incident. He came to me seeking guidance, and his curiosity was piqued by my visions. I told him that flood trolls are native to Belkzen, but they rarely roam this far south of the Flood Road. Since learning of his investigation, though, I have had nightmares unlike any before, and I fear that some greater evil may be at play within Trunau’s walls."
"Rodrik had plans to go back to the Plague House, but because of the unease I felt from my visions, I suggested he leave his journal with me, which he did. The night of his death, my visions were even more terrible, though still indecipherable. When news of Rodrik’s death reached me in the morning, I knew it must have been foul play, so I fled the Sanctuary, fearful that whoever targeted Rodrik would come after me as well. His death grieves me to no end, but at least my efforts bought me enough time to share this information with you."
He hands you the journal.
"Flood trolls, mysterious assassins, wolves inside the walls. If'n it's all connected, whatever's behind it all has quite the arsenal," Gundar mutters, half to himself.
Kragmyr takes the journal and nods to the half-orc, offering neither apology for words of praise. Instead he nods along as Katreza speaks and reads over the words in the jounrnal.
"I see that ye aren't in league with the murderers of Rodrik. I-" He stops, as if thinking over his words carefully. "Ne'er mind that. What matters now is vengeance. Seems like the journal here says that ye were supportive of his investigation into the trolls, right up until he got murdered for poking his noes in. Care to tell us what made ye tell Rodrick to quite investigatin', an' what ye know about this plague house he mentions?"
Her establishment or not, Dwarven lives were at stake. I regret nothing, even if it had come to blows.
"What do you know of the Plague House and Flood Trolls? Both sound ominous..." Thozar says, his hands habitually grooming his beard again. Trolls in a town are bad news. I do not know if we have the strength to fell one, even a group such as ours.
Ulark hangs back as the other dwarves crowd Katreza andpointedly ask questions to the orc. He instead steps towards Sars, weapon strapped and hands out. As I said, tempers running hot. Most of them barely made it out of their beds this week, in a town they've no stake in. But only half an excuse, and I'm sorry: we can be a...direct type.
Shuffling back towards the rest of group, the warrior hears the end of Katreza's tail.
Ashes of the past... Ulark mutters to himself. Looking back to Katreza, he asks The flood troll Rodrick spotted: did he fight it off? Or is the beast still lurking there? Turning to the other dwarves Ulark looks serious. Sounds like the Plague House may hold answers. I for one'd rather seek out and strike at a place before they come to me. I get the sense the rest of you may agree?
Gundar nods. "Aye. Though some of us may still need rest before we seek another fight."
Looking around at the group, Gundar sees a crowd of hale and vexed dwarves. He shrugs at Ulark. "Ne'er mind. Let's go today."
“I have seen visions of the Plague House many times these past few weeks, and though I can’t say with any certainty what these divinations might mean, I believe there is more beneath the ashes of the Burned Church than soot and rubble. That is why I was trying to warn Rodrik off.”
"Well lads! I'd bet that we'll be findin' some answers down there. Must be someone in this 'ere town that would profit from havin' trolls muckin' about."
As he continued, he waved his hand at the half-orcs in the room. "Who'e'er be doin' this not only killed the watchman investigatin', but also the most friendly person in this town to the half-'uns. Wouldn't be surprised if this is all tied up to Belkzen somehow, an' if the half-'uns end up gettin' the blame for this entire mess. Ye lads ready to go through this old church? All I can say is that we'd best get some oil to burn any trolls we come across 'fore we go."
|
Belir looks to Katreza. "Ye got anything to be helping against these trolls?"
Belir gulps a bit as he had never been to the burned out old church himself but has seen its shell from a distance.
"How would a troll get this close to town without anyone noticing?" He loosens his axe. "I am ready when ye are Kragmyr." His hand raps against his full plate armor.
"I am ready too. I have never fought a troll before, but I hear they are a rough lot. Is fire the only burning that they feel? I can conjure bolts of acid if that works too." This will be horrid work, but at least I will be within the embrace of the earth once again. We may discover what makes this place feel so wrong and strike at it's heart. We must heal the earth below before the earth above can recover.
"I agree, a troll this close to town is a cause for alarm, especially since no one's seen it since Rodrick. We should explore this "plague house" and see if we can find what could be so important that someone would murder a Captain of the guard to cover it up."
Torith had stayed outside but was listening intently at the door.
The conversation certainly gave him a lot to ponder while waiting for the others to leave.
Plague houses, trolls and conspiracy! I guess the more you dig in to a place the more likely to unearth something that others wish to keep buried. Even Trunau, though welcoming, has its darker side.
"How would a troll get this close to town without anyone noticing?"
"I'd like to know the same," Gundar says grimly.
A tall, gangly giant that has a thick hide of mottled blue; protruding yellowed canines; narrow slits for eyes; and large, powerful hands that end in wicked claws.
A flood troll’s regeneration functions as long as the flood troll is touching flowing water or precipitation.
Even a slight drizzle is enough to activate the flood troll’s regeneration. However, any acid or fire damage dealt to the flood troll suspends its next round of regeneration.
The weather looks clear for the foreseeable future.
You head to the plague house.
The Plague House’s front doors sit three feet above the ground. Charred wooden beams and ash are all that remains of a small porch and stairs that once led to the entrance. The small windows flanking either side of the doorframe are broken, but a large stained glass window dominating the face of the building to the right remains in fine shape, and shows a varicolored image of Iomedae holding her sword aloft.
Despite the weight of his armor, Kragmyr manages to get to the front door. "Come on lads, if I can do it so can he
Gundar follows shortly behind Kragmyr, the ruined church proving no more difficult to climb than a stout pine.
Before joining the others Thuradin will do a quick reconnoiter around the building, looking for fresh troll tracks or any other sign of recent visitation.
Once his circuit is complete and he's satisfied he will join the others on the porch.
"What a wretched place. Seems perfect for scoundrels and the unsavory to hole up in. Steel yourselves, dwarves," he says gravely. The smell of wet ash and rotting burnt wood fills his nostrils, making him uneasy. The stench of ruin and arson. I'll be happy when we are better connected to the soil again.
Thozar accompanies Thuradin on his quick look around. He supplements their search with the use of his Spirit Sense abilities.
Spirit Sense: Detect the presence of undead; fey; outsiders; and astral, ethereal, or incorporeal creatures. This ability functions like detect undead, and the druid detects all of these creatures rather than trying to detect one kind.
If he finds another entrance and/or tracks, he will point it out to his companions. If not, he will join them by the front doors and does his best to be in the middle/back of the group.
Ulark looks warily at the unstable stairs, but as Kragmyr scampers up he cautiously follows.
[smaller] You can. But can we do it quieter? If a troll does rest here, better to go softly than the yell our presence.[/smaller
"I certainly wouldn't want a place like this so near to the townfolk. WHy not just knock the whole thing down? Maybe th\t's a thoguht for when we've dug out whatever is in here."
"We're wearing heavy mail and heavier weapons. I don't think we'll be sneakin' around like knife-ears. Best to go in as a unit. Watch each other's backs, work as a team and move as one."
Scouting around finds a number of other possible entrances, and you do find a far number of boot prints and such around the house. Nothing specific you can find regarding trolls or giants, though.
You enter a hall with a few doors, and it opens up at the end.
"Through the doors lads. Gunnar, Thozar and Belir up front. Myself, Ulark and Thuradin behind. Torith takes the rear. Keep the formation tight. Shields up front, reach behind. Ranged supporting behind it all. Just like the ancestors would do it."
Gundar nods his assent to the battle plan and takes a place at the front of the column, axe held overheard for swift downward chopping motions that won't put his fellows in danger.
"Hush now, lads. 'ware an ambush."
Two rows of scorched, wrought-iron bed-frames take up most of the space in this soaring chamber, resting between a fire-blackened altar to the southwest and double doors to the northeast. A second set of double doors leads to the northwest, and a single iron door exits the chamber to the southeast. Brightly colored holy figures stare down from the stained-glass windows built into the blackened stone walls, their visages noticeably less damaged than the rest of the room.
Ulark utters a quiet prayer as they enter the first side room. Dont matter the details; a good god's place deserves better than this.
He awkwardly shifts to pull a bit of his undershirt over his mouth from underneath his scalemail. Must be where they kept the sick. Hospice, til they passed. Careful - even after fire some plagues can still linger. Or echoes of 'em
The paladin moves cautiously into the room to inspect the charred altar.
There doesn't appear to be much of interest about the altar.
"Lads, shields to the doors. Gunnar, Thozar, guard the doors to the west. Belir, block the one to the south. Everyone else. Let's clear the room thoroughly. Then group up and do the same for each room that we go through. Those assassins nearly killed us because they caught us unawares. If anyone comes out at us, I want them hitting a raised shield, and not our backs."
It is unclear if there are footprints leading a certain way, but this area has seen some foot traffic for sure.
Searching through the ashes of furniture and in the corners of the room turns up a small haul of ornamental valuables, including an ornate hopeknife (worth 100 gp), a heart-shaped gold locket (worth 45 gp), and 63 sp.
As you canvas the room, Torith notices a trap door under one fo the beds. Unfortunately, none of you notice the smell of burning flesh before the place comes alive. Burnt corpses of plague victims appear on the bedframes, sitting straight up and screaming, their mouths full of fire and ashes.
This place gives me the willies... Just as he concludes his thought, he experiences that horror of a room of screaming ash and succumbs to it's overwhelming presence!
Ulark's examination of the altar yields little, though that does not stop him from brushing it free of as much ash and dust as he can. He turns back towards the others only to find himself struck as if by a real blow as dozens of flaming corpse erupt around the room and cry out..
Angradd's Forge!!!