[PFS][Level 3-5] DM Ranginui runs The Midnight Mirror (Inactive)

Game Master Tangaroa

"I am Chuurock bin Ausk, seeker of truth and knowledge. I hear how strongly you feel that these must be punished. But, I hear no desire for the truth of what has happened to your loved ones. I hear no concern for their safety or potential return." The half-orc turns to the crowd, speaking to them more than to the sheriff at this point. "What do you want? Do you want your friends and families back? Do you want to be able to either hold them or give them the proper funeral rights? How will killing these three lead you to your friends and family?"

Shandor stands back, cowled so that he doesn't attract unwanted attention, but curious about why Chuurock feels the need to intervene for the sake of complete strangers.

One of the healthier looking peasants, a man in roughspun clothes carrying carpenter's tools speaks up. "Sheriff, they have point. This isn't going to help find your daughter." He receives a scowl and a light slap on the shoulder from a portly woman at his side. Most the crowd still looks uncertain at the exchange.

The fetchling speaks up in his hoars voice "Please sir, you know me, I'm Sergei. Im just a farmer... me and my family were only coming from Shade Row to get our victuals" Jeers from the more outspoken in the crowd silence him again.

Guilford takes in the scene playing out, uncertain of how to respond. He desperately wants to help these people, but feels weak in such a strange and hostile land. He feels a bit of warmth return when Chuurock begins to speak. He then steps forward.

EDIT: Not paying careful enough attention to posts - too much I'm trying to catch up on!

"Honored Sheriff, my companion speaks wisely: in order for justice to be served, the truth must first be uncovered."

The sheriff's mutters under his breath.

"Fine strangers, you've made your point. Lets get to the bottom of this! Cut 'em down and we'll bring them to Radu. The Priest will know how to get a confession out of them."

A few in the crowd let out gasps, a few respond with gleeful jeers, while most remain appear of this strange events unfolding before them. A few men in leather-clad folk with simple clubs start moving towards the stage.

The male tiefling cries out, his voice on the edge of desperation, pleading. "Please sheriff, we do not deserve that... please, a quick death, instead...". He turns to look at Chuurock, Baldwyn and Guilford and mouths the words "Help".

"Here's hoping the priest is wise enough to see innocence when he sees it."

Leastrie stays silent as the others speak up, but turns to the party as they go to follow. "It does not appear this....priest will be very...sympathetic. We may have to interfere yet again."

Kris keeps her voice quiet, attempting to build on the "robed and hooded monk" guise. "Then why do we not offer to interrogate them ourselves? I trust... most... of you to be far... gentler than what I saw back in Nisroch."

"Yes Kris, you are probably right. Chuurock, Baldwyn: I'm not always the most persuasive person. Perhaps one of you should speak directly with the sheriff."

One of the less vocal members of the mob speaks, a skinny man with a straw hat and leathery skin makes himself heard above the crowds. "Sheriff, these strangers have the right of it. You didn't see Sergei or his family take Olga, you haven't even searched their home. Your just afraid of him 'cause he's Kayal."

A younger woman with a button nose, brown dress and covered head speak up in a dainty contralto voices her thoughts next. "Mr. Groy, that Tallowthroat is taking the common sense out of you. Sergei helped my father and brothers lay in his field six years ago, he's a good soul who wouldn't do any harm to anybody. I think someone should go to the Priest, but it ought to be you; we can all see you need his healing bad right now."

There is a subtle ripple through the crowd as a dozen individuals in the mob murmur in assent to both arguments.

The sheriff looks momentarily taken back and confused. "What are you talking about? These have to be the ones. They've been told to stay in Shae row, but they came anyways... they have to be the ones... they have to... ". His voice wavers a bit.

Amused at the persepctive of shaming a public figure, Shandor chimes in.

A coward indeed. Someone who doesn't know better. Pathetic. he emphasises to empower Baldwyn's diatribe.

As the six find their voice it intermingles and resonates with the that of the mob. Mercurial organism that it, the mind of the mob slowly changes; the shouts change in tone and grow in volume. This time, however, they are directed not at the white-skinned humanoids but rather the sheriff. When Baldwyn and The Beast talk of cowardice, the volume rises noticeably. It is clear that for a people raised in a land of pain and darkness, there are few things more despised then a coward.

The sheriff looks stricken and staggers over to the base of the tree. He slumps to the ground and cradles his head in his hands and starts rocking a bit. His deputies quickly go and cut the family down.

It isn't very long before the crowd disperses. The carpenter, young woman and older man come up to thank you, but most of the crowd disperses, looking vaguely guilty. Shortly after the family comes up to thank you, grasping your hands in gratitude before retreating into the smaller mirror village soon after. Unlike the humans, they do not stay to talk and hurry to return to their ghetto.

The older man shakes your hand as well. "That was decent of you folk. Sheriff's normally a good man but times are rough. People just stop making sense once they get the Tallowthroat."

"...Tallowthroat?"

The man in the straw hat speaks again. "Aye, Tallowthroat. Makes your throat swell up like a bullfrog, then you start to become downright afraid of everything. Maybe a week, two weeks later, that bulge on your throat bursts, and two or three critters as black as night come out. It's them that kills your family." He shudders, takes a small knife out and slices himself on his forearm in a shallow cut. "But the Fetchlings don't come down with it; that's why people are mad at them."

"Priest Miklos calls it a disease but I think it's a test from the Prince of Pain. It's our town's time to go, and we aren't ready. I'm sorry you had to visit us now; isn't right to drag others into our trial."

He pauses, thoughtful, and rubs his throat.

"Name is Tarn. Why did you come here, anyways?"

"We are travelers, aides to Chuurock Bin Ausk, seeker of truth and devout of Pharasma." She gestures to the half-orc. "As you know, Pharasma is a seer of life, the holder of the dead, and the foe of plague. We were headed south to Cheliax when we divined that this town may need of him, or that Ser Ausk may be in need of the grim truths it holds." She nods under her hood. "If words of your trials are true, then I believe the Lady of the Graves may be right, in either case."

"The fools who eat the words of the 'Gods' will be the ones to have the wool pulled over their eyes."

"Aren't any Chelish folk come that far out of their way for us. Doesn't matter to me, everyones got a story. Servants of the Lady are fine by me"

"The detours of circumstance are the biggest events one has in life," she adds. Do I think he bought it? Can't tell on this medium where his statements are most forceful.

In the back of her mind, Kris thinks that this fellow is too canny to fall for her deception. All the same, he nods in agreement with her words.

"Have no healers had any success with treating this tallowthroat."

"Yes, the Priest Miklos has been trying to go against the Midnight Lord's will and heal folk, but most of us know better then to question the will of our lord. Only those who lack faith go to him."

How long ago did Tallowthroat appear? Is it a recent affliction? Is it confined to Karpad?

Guilford takes in the conversation, not wanting to risk derailing things. He is disturbed by the practices he sees here. As a follower of the Dawnflower, he has come to believe in compassion and redemption not suffering and pain.

"It started about a month ago, but didn't get bad until the past week or so. Up until then, only the disease and shadows were the problem; about a week ago folks started outright disappearing."

Disappearances? Could you tell us more about it? Has Baron Boroi done anything about it?

"Over the past week, we've lost the weaver and her husband, a couple of visiting loggers, and Irini the baker's wife. In the past two days, the butcher's son Delian, a farmer named Zona, and most recenlty Olga disappeared. Nobody saw anything strange, although lots of people have ideas."

"Baron hasn't come out of his home for three weeks gone by, not since the plague started. Three weeks ago, he fired all the Fetchlings he had in his employ. Next day, he came out to the square and gave a little speech. Said to "watch out for the shadows, to be on our guard". Last we saw of him. His words didn't make a whole lot of sense at the time, till the shadows started bursting out of folks throats. That's when people started putting up the torches and the bonfires, figuring that would help chase away the shadows."

"Sheriff's been keeping order since, least until he came down with Tallowthroat and lost his daughter. Being that the Baron fired all the Fetchings and then started talking about shadows, it's easy to see that people might get a bit agitated regarding anyone coming over from Shade Row"

"If I may, I have several questions: have all the disappearances happened at the same time of day? Or were the missing people all doing the same thing or in the same place when they vanished?"

"As for the plague, does anyone know how it spreads, and has anyone figured out why the fetchlings aren't afflicted by the plague as well?"

Guilford absently runs his hand along his throat, then as he seems to realize what he's doing, he jerks it away.

Don't be a fool! I couldn't possibly have...could I?

"Haven't heard anything about times or things being suspicious, no. Some folk suspect the Fetchlings kidnapping folk for evil purposes, but some think it to be Nadia Witch-Blood out on the edge of town. Myself I suspect Cosmin; the woodcutter hasn't come home for the past week, but attacked some loggers just yesterday. Didn't hurt them, but I heard it was a close thing."

"As to the disease, it's from the Prince of Pain. He chooses as he will. Maybe he passes the Fetchlings over cause they suffer more gladly in life, and already live in the shadows."

"So, we have the appearance of a new parasite, one which causes the host to birth shadows that then kill those closest to the host. Do the tallowthroat victims die when the shadows are released, do the shadows also turn on them, or can they be saved?

"You say that people started vanishing after a couple of weeks of these shadows being loosed on the town. Those without faith display a lack of faith in different ways. Many would seek to be somewhere other than where such death was becoming common. Or is there a reason you say they've vanished and not that they fled?"

After waiting for some feedback on that thought, "You also said the Baron provided a warning before the tallowthroat started? Other than firing his fetchling servants, which could have been an expression of fear, did he display any signs of tallowthroat himself?"

"You are dead as a doornail when the shadows come out of you; I suppose it's a mercy, as I heard the shadows go after anything nearby"

"As to the folk who vanished, I guess some could have run off. They weren't showing no signs, and not really anywhere to go. I don't reckon the missing children to have that much gumption, anyways."

After Chuurock speaks again, Tarn answers after a thoughtful moment. "Baron Boroi wasn't showing any signs when we saw him, no. It is a fact that the throat takes a while to swell up to be full and ripe, once you got the thing."

He coughs into a balled fist a bit politely.

"I do not mean to be disrespectful to any Priests, but I need to get home to my wife. I wish to spend all the best of my last moments suffering with her; I just got distracted by all the commotion in the square on my way home."

"My apologies. I don't mean to keep you from those you hold dear."

Kris asks nothing, desiring to let the man who knows something odd is going on about her party to go wait and have his throat explode in a few weeks. Once he is gone... "Well, then; shall we," chuckle "... look around for any more hints?"

Baldwyn's face is a mask of disappointment. "Shadows... I can't fight shadows... How can you fight shadows? Throw a torch at them? Hrmmm..."

"Depends. Some can be tamed and controlled. I certainly do hope those would be the case," Kris puts on a toothy grin as she turns to the Beast. "All for power, yes?"

Looking around the town square one can see many shops are closed, but an inn, general store and charm shop are among those few that remain open.

You fight them with magic, for magic reigns supreme.

Ceasing his gloating for a moment, Shandor realizes: We'd better get a room at the local inn, then go visit the Baron as soon as we can, provided it's not too late for today.

What moment of the day is it?

Looking around the town square one can see many shops are closed, but an inn, general store and charm shop are among those few that remain open.

Also, just a note for other players; For actually playing my curse properly, I actively not talk about things like this unless they're something horridly obvious.

"A good plan, though I'll be renting my own room." Kris chuckles again, "No offense, but I'm not one to share a room with a man I barely know, let alone five simultaneously."

The sun is still high; 2 pm. Another five to five and a half hours of daylight.

The brave (although some might call them foolhardy) adventurers head to the inn of the plague infested town and secure rooms. The innkeeper is a woman named Lorin, a talkative woman who currently seems caught up in fretting vocally with another woman about the condition of her various neighbors. She's so distraught by the situation she simply asks for one gold per room, per night, and hardly pays the strangers any mind. It is a noticeable discount from most inns, and queer behavior from a small-town innkeeper.

After receiving the nights sums she continues her conversation “Catalina has tallowthroat, though she won’t admit it 'cause then someone’d make her stop working so hard. The demand for candles has been unmanageable for her lately, I think—she’s been working around the clock. At least, I heard noises coming from her place in the middle of the night. Shame; I always liked her. Maybe she got smart and is saving up to pay the priest to heal her."

"And did you hear that sweet Olga disappeared? So did Irini, but that whore probably ran off with that secret lover of hers. The nerve of her, cuckholding Mycah." She *tut-tuts* quite vocally.

There are a few woodsmen and few locals in the inn sharing drink and a few words. None of their throats appear to be obviously engorged.

Baldwyn looks around the inn, almost asking where he can get some ale, but thinks better of it.

"Could be in the drink... dammit."

"I agree with the Beast. We should check with the Baron soon as we can. I doubt we'll find more here that's worth a damn. If there's a cure, these people either don't know it or don't want it. Maybe the Baron will help."

Leastrie nods. "That seems to be the most logical course of action."

Having secured lodging, it is about 3 pm in the afternoon when the six arrive at the manor house. The Boroi manor sits upon the valley’s slope overlooking the town, and is clearly the oldest and largest building in town by several centuries. It is older even then the temple of Zon-Kuthon across town. The building is octagonal, with extensions built into the hillside to the south and west. Great bonfires rage around the manor, but their light only serves to reveal the cracking paint and crumbling eaves.

A stern man with greying beard answers the door when you knock. He has dark rings under his eyes, but no sign of Tallowthroat. He wears no weapons, and is attired in a servants outfit, although an expensive one. The buttons are gold and his coat is black and fine linen over a white tunic.

"Yes, may I help you?"

Guilford does his best to remember the manners his mentor taught him in their travels across the Inner Sea.

"Yes, my good man, my companions and I are here to request an audience with the lord of this estate."

"Lord Boroi is not currently available for an audience."

The man looks past Guilford and at the rest of the group. His eyes linger on each of them, and he stops and stares at Shandor for the period of no less then twenty heartbeats before returning his eyes to Guilford.

"What is the matter for the lord regarding?"

Leastrie stands quietly, watching, waiting for the more verbose members of the party to speak up!

"The people under the Baron's rule not only have a rather large problem they would like help solving, but they say that the Baron himself warned them about the problem before there was any other indication that something was about to happen. I assume the Baron would rather take steps to lose neither his lands nor his own life to this 'disease'?" The half-orc looks at the group standing outside the doorway. "It seems a means to that end may be unexpectedly available."

The majordomo looks at Chuurock briefly.

"I am not currently privy to the Baron's desires regarding his future. Since you don't seem to want my question about who you are, then I will ask whom do you represent? You are not government agents, and you do not quite have the look of mercenaries."