"Randall, is there anything else you haven't told us about the situation. I know you want us to be successful, and we need to know everything before we head off to the Manor." Riggs still wasn't completely convinced about the total veracity of the story.
Sweet rechecks her gear to make sure it is in order. She listens to the questions and answers thinking that the merchants have given all of the information they have.
Very well. I had not asked for payment in advance, only for you to loan items that you might think would help ensure success. It is your choice to deny that. The Dawnflower will judge your motives in the end. But I will have names and descriptions of the children, unless you also somehow consider that payment. Here, write them on this parchment. She produces something to write on and with and offers it.
Norjan simply takes the small pick from his side and begins to play with it, as a child might play with a favorite toy, while listening to the continuing discussion.
Randall looks at Riggs as if he is searching for the proper words. "This is strictly rumor, I've nothing concrete, but some believe the house itself is haunted by evil spirits. Yet, others believe there are unspeakable denizens from the depths of Hell" he pauses, "or the abyss working their machinations there. Those are the rumors the bard was going to look into before he went missing."
A list and description of the three missing children are written down for you.
Renshaw the barrel makers oldest boy, Brunson. He is eleven and has shaggy brown hair that has never met a comb it liked. He is sturdy little one standing nearly 5 feet tall already. He has a lisp. He was the first taken.
Randall Griswald's, III, oldest boy son was the second one taken. His name is Randall IV, or 4 Square as he likes to be called. He has light brown hair long to below his shoulders, he is lean and tall at 5'2. He is also eleven years old.
Sally Lou's daughter, Sally Lou is 12 years old. She s petite little blonde hair to her waist, blue eyes. She likes to read.
Balthazar gently taps the underside of his slender pipe against the edge of the table, watching the ash fall to the floor. He looks absently past Randall to the small group of engaged mercs, smiles lightly and looks back to Randall. I have questions maybe you have answers?
Did the wizard or bard keep a written record of their research and discovery? Did anyone assist them? A guide or perhaps a porter? You said he went mad, but where is the wizard now? He pauses for a moment, reaching into his robe he removes a small worn pouch and begins to refill the pipe. And who found the bard? Perhaps he might be found once more
The house, is it merely a house, at all? Where would Cresh have conducted a ritual? Is there a cellar, perhaps a floor plan? Lifting a poker from the hearth and pausing to light his pipe once more Balthazar asks You said Cresh was disfigured, but you didn't say how. What would cause him to hate this town so much to want to kill your children? You all seem to know of a holy symbol that had meaning for him, what do you know about it?
knowledge check religion
+5
knowledge check arcane (just in case)
+11
Taking a few short puffs and blowing a few thin rings of smoke to the rafters What do they families of the victims now have to do with either Cresh or the families from 50 years ago?
Oh, and one final matter, payment. Half now if you please. Otherwise, how can we be sure you'll keep your word after you get what you want? Let's all stay the very best of friends, shall we? he says with a smirk as he puffs. He pauses for a moment to look back at the merc's waiting expectantly for encouragement on this final point.
Riggs looks around the room, waiting to hear Randall's answers to this final bout of questions.
Turning and looking at the pale elf Randall motions to the serving girl, she hurries over with a fresh mead. He nods his thanks at her, picks up the frothy tankard and takes a hearty drink.
"I was the one who served as lead contact for both the wizard and the bard. The wizard was and is known to me, Alfred Wihning, he as assisted me in various merchant dealings that I've had. I'm a wheelwright by trade. He has a small shop on the north side of town. I don't know if he kept a written record. I'm not certain of his methodology; what I do know is Alfred kept repeating "its there, there." I'm not healer, so is it really madness..." long pausing, "I don't know."
Stopping to take another deep drink, when he motions for another tankard.
He is visibly stressed. "The bard was known to me, Jenmare Livihood, he taught my son history last year. Again, I don't recall if he was reading notes from a book. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to that sort of detail." He shrugs.
Icabhod takes this all in and nods as they are given the descriptions of the children, he does think Balthazar is picking nits with all the qestions but readies his gear and nods to Farspindle and Talulah as he joins them at their table.
"Cresh's death was over 50 years ago, I don't know anything about it other than what I've heard from rumor and the bard. The citizens discovered what he was doing and stormed the house essentially, killing him in his basement. Where he did his evil, I don't know. The house has been vacant ever since."
He looks around the room, his shoulders slumped. "Jenmare learned in his research that the Cresh hated children for the ridicule they did...teasing him about his deformity. What caused his deformity..." His hand raised palm up in the air, "...no idea." His face scrunches, "I'm not sure what you are referring to about a holy symbol that had meaning to him?
"As far as link between the families then and now...I don't think there is one. I certainly had no knowledge of him. The only commonality is the families are all merchants and its the oldest child." He pulls out a short fat cigar and strikes a tinder...inhaling.
"I must respectfully refuse the coin upfront, there are many thieves in this city," his eyes falling on Sweet. "But I'm certainly willing to execute a lawful contract and make sure Jusopher Hoonish, the money monger, has the account on file."
Shine listens in to the questions and their answers, taking note that the demand for half payment up front was not addressed, but caring little. Following the lead of the elf she asks. Can we talk with this mad wizard? Is he about? Could he be brought here?
Norjan continues to listen. His eyes perk up when he hears the short gnome mention the Dawnflower. Knowing that negotiation and research is not his forte, he simply remains in the back toying with his pick and letting the others ask the questions.
"Guud luck wit dat," scoffs on of the other merchants in the room at the request to see the mad wizard.
---
"I can see if he will come forth but it is unlikely." Randall replies to Shine.
If the account is placed with Jusopher, that is good enough for me.
Sweet turns to the gnome, Why talk to a crazy wizard? He has obviously lost his mind if all he is doing is spitting jibberish. I say we bust into this manor and get the kids or whatever clues we can find and collect our gold. How dangerous can the place be? I don't even believe in oogy boogies anyway. She chuckles at how scared big people always appear at the sound of danger.
"All this talk is getting boring. I think we have agreed to take the job. Let's get the contracts signed and go on our way. Time might be of the essence."
The merchant produces from of a worn leather satchel a simple contract that states the terms of the agreement and the consideration paid. There are several blank lines for each member of the group to sign. He endorses the agreement last, rolls up the parchment and seals it. He hands it to another merchant who will give it to the money monger.
Talking to the halfling Shine states the obvious If the wizard was driven mad, we are very likely to meet whatever caused his madness. I would be as prepared as I can be. Perhaps a quick visit to this wizard would forewarn us. Likely not, but still I would try. And I have some knowledge in healing. If I cannot help the wizard maybe I can at least determine what is wrong with the fellow.
Balthazar tamps out his pipe once again. Looking over the newly formed group he chuckles to himself. Hot heads, pumped full of boiling blood. Ever stoked by the fickle flame of youth. Is now your time to prevail? He looks to the contract for a long moment. Rising from his chair, he reaches for his pack. Perhaps so.
Turning to face the group squarely I am Belloch
Icabhod signs his name on the contract. I am Icabhod. I have some knowledge in healign as well and I always make sure to have a good supply of items so I can lend my aid like Fairspindle.
Looks like its introduction time. This part is always so uncomfortable...
"I'm Riggs. I am a student of the arcane. My power is minor, but I pledge it to help rescue the children."
Oi! Talulah Sweetrazor is the name, but me friends call me Sweet! You need someone to sneak in and take a look around without being seen? Well I'm your girl! I'm am a might fancy with locks as well. I have never found a lock that I can't open... A little quiter...Even if there is often a BANG involved.
She grabs the pen and stands on her tippy toes to sign the document. I am handy with a sword as well. If there are bandits involved, I have no problem gutting them! Don't worry people...we will find your children.
The gnome steps up. As I have said, go by Shine and I am a humble servant of the Dawnflower. By fire and light we will prevail.
Various fols in the Hag's Stew look up and cough when Icabhod mentions he has some knowledge of healing. "Obviously, not leprosy," someone mumbles between coughs.
Riggs stifles a laugh at the comment from the peanut gallery. "Be nice. He is trying to help get this town's children back, you know. You should be hugging him, instead of making cracks," Riggs reacts protectively to the joke, even if it was fairly clever.
Icabhod just ignores the hecklers.
The wise-cracker keeps his head down shoveling his stew. I don't see you hugging that one.
As the ninth bell tolls, several merchants get up signalling the end of meeting. Several well wishers provide words of encouragement as they head towards the door. Randall, Sally Lou and Renshaw explain where you can deliver the news and offer their best wishes.
Renshaw asks, "Are you going to scout the area tonight, then go in tomorrow?" The wheels spinning in his head, trying to determine when news about his child may be delivered.
Norjam stands up and stretches his tall lean frame. He then quietly walks over to the contract and writes his name as well.
I am Norjam. I am fairly skilled at making sure that what gets hit with my picks does not get back up afterwards.
With this he drops the small pick he was playing with into its sheath and draw a much larger pick from over his shoulder before taking out a cloth and polishing the wicked looking blade.
Norjam then looks at the rest of the group. Well, there is a house into which these good folk's kids have been taken. Waiting here any longer is unlikely to improve their chance of survival.
"I think that is the plan, Renshaw. At first light, we will enter the place and see for ourselves what evil it might hold. We'll be back when we can, although it might take a few days to learn what is happening."
We should take a look at the grounds even if we go in by day.
As the group arrives this is the map of the exterior. There is stone 4 foot stone wall surrounding the large proper. On top of the wall are 6 feet of iron fencing with spearhead tops. Noticeably only one rusted gate remains, barely attached to the wall. The manor is dark outline on the dark sky. Visibility is poor with complete cloud cover and a light rain. What light sources do you have out?
Map of the front wall and Gate.
Icabhod hold sup his hand and mutters a few words, causign a small glowing orb to form in his palm. He holds it up and scans the area in beyond the gate.
Riggs looks down and procures a stone or small stick, whatever is underfoot. He copies the spell cast by Icky, and casts Light on the small item, hopefully providing enough light for those who were carrying weapons to use it, in case the weapons were needed.
Perception
+8
Sweet whispers: Can someone send their lights into the courtyard?
As the group arrives at the house Shine comments. Time to buff, if you got long term buffs. May the light of Sarenrae bolster my shield! She intones as she channels positive energy into her shield. It glows red gold for a moment and then looks as it did before. The gnome then peers through the gate using darkvision.
There are plenty of small rocks and chunks wood to cast light on. If someone tosses a rock what general direction, you can see a windy gravel and dirt path that is overgrown with scrubs. Are you tossing the rock on the path or to the left or right?
Riggs tosses his pebble toward the path on the right, trying to illuminate a good chunk of the area.
Icabhod casts Magic Circle Against evil and Magic Vestment on his armor
edit: Mage Armor gives me touch +4
Balthazar straightens up and pauses for a beat. Noticing a response to Sweet's request is not forthcoming, he peers deep into the courtyard, squinting slightly. He puts his hands to his hips and arches his back.
Klaus, attend me please. A few moments later, his rucksack begins to expand and suddenly the top bursts open. A tiny face appears, bulbous nose hanging over the packs rim. Shyly Yes? Does something need doing? Balthazar reaches back gently stroking the creatures bald head A light to reveal the courtyard and guide our way, if you please A tiny arm passes over Balthazar's shoulder. Briefly, an outstretched finger glows and a bright globe of light appears before the group. Moving with them as they walk.
Balthazar reaches to his sash, resting his hand on a bright but plain bone wand. He runs his hand along it's length absently as he watches the globes form. Satisfied, as always, with Klaus' casting, he withdraws the wand raising it above his head and looking to the group Now, gather round all you wish to remain unspoiled
"Thank you for the magic. That should be most helpful," Riggs replies to the strange witch.
Here is an updated map.
You stand outside the entrance to a veritable wilderness of overgrowth. Various weeds and wildflowers cover the ground making the visible terrain off the path difficult to pass through. The street is behind you and long narrow winding pathway leads up to the front porch. There is only one rusted gate hanging from a single bent hinge. The other half lies on the ground, burying who knows what beneath its heavy bulk. The air is heavy and the drizzle has stopped for the moment, there is no moon and cloud cover is thick.