No need for apologies. I can use psychic spells,such as that display with the giant centipedes in the crypts. No need for components--neither somatic,verbal,nor material. I could still cast even if my hands were otherwise occupied or if I were tied up. I can use Telekinetic Projectile indefinitely, so there is no problem. Ortensia reassured her.
"Well done, Ortensia." Evrasi applauded. "You handled that very well."
"Yes, it is time to deal with this. Zephra, you and I should see Father Grimburrow and secure more holy water and anything else we can arm ourselves with."
Father Grimburrow can give you 6 vials of holy water.
It will take about 45 minutes to get from the centre of Ravengro to Harrowstone.
GM note - Archon can use the arrows if needed, I think he said he has odd work schedules so I will bot him until he can post.
...Hm. I've had a thought; I think we may need to post a watch on the memorial. Since Gibs is accounted for, the Splatter Man may simply select another to do his bidding. I am unsure if there is anyone else close enough to be effected by his influence nor the range. He used to be a wizard in life and could be using a spell from the charm or compulsory sort to exert his will since he is effectively corralled within his place of death as most ghosts tend to be bound.
Ortensia poured herself another glass of cool water. She fiddled with the brass planchette,considering.
She could use as an implement for divination...
Zephra looks around dubiously. "Maybe the sheriff can do that? I don't want to stay behind... Is this 'Splatter Man' in the prison? I want to find him and stop him before he can do whatever it is he is trying to do."
She excuses herself when they begin preparations for the expedition and goes outside to perform a prayer ritual to her goddess. She lays small bones and a piece of parchment in a spiral, then chants quietly while she drags a black scarf around the circle. At the end of the ceremony, she seems to feel more relaxed, and is comforted by the feeling of her goddess granting her a new day of spells.
The Sheriff says he can station a squad of 4 men to watch the memorial that's fine.
Then it's settled. At dawn, we depart for Harrowstone.
As she sipped tea and refreshed her mental faculties with meditation, she changed her clothing. A dress would not do trudging about a dilapidated ruin damaged by fire, much less one haunted.
She adopted a long sleeved tunic that buttoned at her throat,a leather overtunic with many pockets, and high waisted pants that buttoned upon the sides with flaring hips. Beneath it she wore her long chainmail shirt.
She strapped a leather buckler to her left arm,flexing it as she was unused to such things as combat being a scholar. Most encounters she avoided through using her words or simply spooking off would-be assailants by revealing her face.
She switched out her veil for a simple yet tastfeul Varisian scarf. She doubted any of those accompanying her would appreciate her visage in the darkened halls of a ruin up close.
At dawn you head out to Harrowstone. The prison is on a barren hill, the stark sagging roof of its central structure visible through a large gap in the surrounding wall. The grounds are contained within a crumbling stone wall, the eastern portion of which has fallen away into a huge sinkhole filled with water. There is the main building/complex and a smaller house like structure (perhaps the warden's home). On the side of the main building is what looks like an execution area and on the sides of the walls are two towers.
A sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
Ortensia took a steadying breath and strode purposefully through the hanging,rusted gates into Harrowstone. Her eyes scanned the dawn highlighted ruins critically,pointed ears flicking for anything of note.
Her heeled boots were more sensible and sturdy compared to the ones she wore to the funeral. She would have no problem discarding them afterwards.
As Ortensia walks through the gates she gets a split second feeling of claustrophobia and the sensation that her skin is on fire.
Will save please
If everyone else is going through the gate then I need Will saves from you too.
Evrasi is fine.
Zephra is eager to face the specters that she imagines had something to do with the dear Professor’s death, driven by her goddess with holy purpose. She strides beside Ortensia through the gate with a wide-eyed, innocent expression.
Evrasi is fine, everyone else is shaken (-2 on attack rolls, skill and ability checks, will let you know when this can be removed).
To recap on what there is in the grounds there is the following:
Two towers by the outer wall.
A brick manor house which is seperate from the main building
The main door to the main building
An area to the side of the main building which appears to have been cleared of weeds.
A balcony to the west which is the execution area.
A balcony to the east covered in vines and plants.
An upper balcony above the main door.
An open cesspit
The sinkhole filled with water.
Over to you.
Ortensia sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth,the scarf around her lower face distorting.
She hugged herself with trembling hands,rubbing away the prickling sensation of burning infusing her flesh. Her steps faltered before she forced herself to continue onward,tears pricking her eyes.
...Goodness me! This place...
She saw that an area had been curiously cleared of weeds near the side of the main building. She shuffled her way over, still rattled by what she'd felt from what she guessed was a psychic impression during the fire 50 years past.
Zephra's eyes also widen as she gets a glimpse of what it must have been like for those trapped here so many years ago. Looking around curiously, she follows Ortensia to the cleared area, wondering if this is where the Professor was found dead.
Ortensia and Zephra you see that the ivy and grass in this area has been cleared along the edge where the foundation meets the ground. Along this edge a series of sinuous runes have been etched and then smeared with blood.
The runes are written in Common and repeat the name Lyvar Hawkran (the warden) dozens of time.
Zephra and Evrasi you notice that the runes seem part of a larger ritual involving abjuration and necromantic magic.
"Curious combination," Evrasi notes, walking a short length of these runes. Keeping the line of runes between herself and the prison proper, Evrasi will try and peer through windows to see what she may.
Zephra looks angrily at the runes, and then at Ortensia and Evrasi. "We must do something about these markings, must'nt we? Is it some kind of spell? It seems like a magical ward against the dead or something like that."
Zephra you think that the markings are not to ward against the dead but rather the opposite to draw the dead out.
As you head round Evrasi you see a window in the east balcony. The balcony has crumbled away into a pile of rubble. Ivy hangs down from the walls in thick matted lengths while dense tangles of vines decorated with deep red and violet flowers adorn the edges above. As you get round you see the flower start to move.
To save time I will roll initiative for everyone.
Plant 14
Evrasi 11
Zephra 8
Ortensia 4
Archon 3
The plant attempts to attack Evrasi but misses.
Evrasi it is your action.
"Gah!" Evrasi cries out, her hand flying to her dagger and, drawing it out, tries to take down her Vine.
Her surprise and her hasty attack miss the wriggling vines, it would seem.
Zephra is slow to notice the attack, but at Evrasi's cry she rushes over and cuts at the plant's tendrils with her dagger.
Ortensia startled, fumbling for her momento. It held a spark of her mental magic and aloowed her to transform it.
It went from a toy to a light flail,expanding in her hand from barely an few ounces to several pounds.
She gripped its handle and rotated her wrist,sending the hedgehog weight swinging in an arc. She flicked it out at the animated plant,attempting to hook the ivy and tear it free from the wall.
Between Zephra and Ortensia you manage to destoy the plant before it can attack. It shrivels up and browns as it dies.
Amid the vines there is the skeleton of a gnome, it looks like it has been there for between 15 and 20 years. Upon the body is a leather pouch containing 24gp, 3pp and a citrine worth 50gp.
Zephra looks at the wall that the vines had been climbing dubiously, as if unsure she could make the ascent herself. Then she looks back at the others and says "Maybe we should try the front door?"
GM note -The window you looked in contains a bizarre collection of antique goods upon wooden shelves
Ortensia is intrigued by how rapidly the plant shriveled away in a mere moment. She started at the sight of the skeleton tangled within the ivy, a former victim who lay undiscovered for possibly decades.
She retrieved the leather pouch,adding it to her belt pouch. She was glad for her gloves.
At the sight of the antiques,her eyes lit up with interest. Possible Implements!
Eager to reach the upper level,Ortensia backed up and threw herwelf bodily at the wall in an attempt to scale it.
"Yes," Evrasi nods, watching Ortensia attempt to climb the wall."Let's try the doors."
Ortensia you manage to climb up part of the way to the window but not its full height.
Looking for a suitable place to reach the window but failing due to the angle she was at,Ortensia huffed and threw herself up the wall again.
Ortensia, you manage to climb up and you can see where you can force the window. Your handhold is a bit precarious so you you open and dive in at the same time.
Inside the room is a bizarre collection of antique goods upon wooden shelves. Several of the items contain tiny tags with labels written in a careful script. There is a metal door which presumably leads into the rest of the ground floor but it is closed.
Zephra stands outside, puzzled. "Are you all right in there?" she calls. "Should we try to go around?"
GM note: Those of you who were are now no longer shaken.
Ah!
Ortensia clapped at the sight of the neatly labeled items. Although dusty, they were nicely organized and untouched from looters.
I am quite fine. Just a bit of dust. A collective of antiques. A metal door that I presume leads to the rest of the ground floor.she replied to Sister Zephra's concerned call.
She didn't fancy waiting for the others to find an alternative entrance. Who knew what could happen if they split up?
Frankly,she'd surprised herself at her acrobatic ability scaling the wall. She even managed to pry the window open with one hand,holding onto a gap in the crumbling wall, and hoisted herself up and through the window in a single movement.
If you wish to try another route,be my guest. I shall wait herein if you choose. I wouldn't recommend splitting up,if you want my opinion.
She peered down at the others,extending a slender gloved hand.If anyone wishes to climb up,I shall assist.
Evrasi's eyes widened as she saw the half-orc's second attempt bear greater fruit than the first. Pursing her lips in thought, she looked from the doors to the window. "Might as well."
Although Evrasi makes little progress with Ortensia's help she is able to get into the room too.
Ortensia you notice in one corner there is a secret door.
...Oh my!
Ortensia noticed an odd outline in the far wall that could only be a secret door. Like one of those described in one of those adventurer novellas put out by the Pathfinder Society.
She cautiously approached to open it and whatever it held.
The door opens into a small vault which appears to have been used to store the more valuable or notorious belongings. The items are:
- A bloodstained +1 handaxe belonging to the Lopper
- A collection of holy symbols belonging to Father Charlatan
-A Moldy spellbook belonging to the Splatter Man
- A Smith's Hammer belonging to the Mosswater Marauder
- A Tarnished Silver Flute belonging to the Piper of Illmarsh
GM note - I will update the specific treasure details list with full details.
Ortensia reached into her belt pouch to consult the journal she was keeping,jotting down notes in her narrow script. She also consulted the earlier entries about the notorious prisoners of Harrowstone.
These were their belongings. Saturated in their nefarious deeds,no doubt. She had a suspicion that being held in a notoriously haunted location certainly didn't help matters.
With a critical eye of one used to cataloging items by worth and function, Ortensia sketched each item of notable interest and memos next to each.
Ortensia you are able to identify the full details regarding each item (as per the specific treasure details link)
Evrasi watched Ortensia work, fascinated at her admirable work ethic. However, remembering their goal, she walked to the door that would lead to the rest of the floor and tested the knob.
Zephra sighs and briefly considers removing her armor, but then decides she can probably simply rely on her brute strength to make the ascent. She briefly recites a prayer to the Lady of Graves before lunging for Ortensia's hand.
Zephra and Archon both manage to scramble up into the room.
Evrasi you try the knob but the door appears to be locked.
Ortensia,through her critical scrutiny of the items and her psychic sensitivity,found herself gobsmacked at her findings.
...Oh my. All of these items are cursed;these were the tools of the notorious Five confiscated upon their imprisonment. However,where there is certainly woe in wielding them, there is an inkling of weal. Each is a key in confronting them--a weakness we can exploit at risk to ourselves being corrupted by their influence.
Wiping the cold sweat from her brow,Ortensia resumed her note taking. The sound of her inkpen scratching a frenetic tempo across the parchment was ominously loud. She paused to reapply ink,pointing to each item in turn.
That bloodstained masterwork handaxe is forever soiled by the blood of his victims.The Lopper's infuence won't allow you to relinquish it if wielded in combat. Also,you may experience the last moments of his victims' before he beheaded them...Although,it will prove very effective against him and any disembodied undead.
Using her pen, she prodded at the tangle of silver holy symbols and announced,No doubt these were from Father Charlatan, who would select one from the collection that would match the faith of his victims as proof of his good intentions as he ran his con. Altogether,they are worth around 300gp. I believe that they shall remain stuck fast until Father Charlatan’s spirit is put to rest.
While carried,the curse causes any
divine spell cast by the one who carries it to suffer slight chance failure.Additionally, you would be more susceptible to such spells as well. However,fortunately,the unquiet dead would be less likely to harm you...
Ortensia cringed in disgust at the sight of the moldering spellbook,refusing to touch it even with her gloved hands....Ugh. The surviving spellbook of Professor Hean Feramin, hereafter known as the Splatter Man. Like with the Lopper's Ax, anyone carrying it will experience wbat his victims did in their final days. Hallucinations of their names spelled in blood seen everywhere and mounting bouts of fear and paranoia. I would also hazard a guess it would infect anyone with arcane spellcating ability to be most effected. As you can see,
mold has destroyed most of the book’s contents, but I am certain a few spells remain viable. As a wizards's spellbook is most often their most prized posession,sometimes even taking place of a familiar, having the book and harming it will also harm the Splatter Man. I also doubt he would willingly assail anyone in possession of it. All in all,it has arcane academic and historical value; if the curse is lifted and all the salvageable spells are intact, it could fetch 1,265 gp to a collector.
Ortensia tapped the smith's hammer with the end of her pen,admiring its quality. The Mosswater Marauder's tool of trade turned murder weapon.Masterwork dwarven smith’s hammer. In combat, it funxtions as a light hammer;As I'm sure you're all well aware. Curiously, the smith turned murderer was the only one out of the Five to not be actively evil--tragic and insane but just as dangerous. I surmise its presence alone would elicit some favorable effect for us to expolit shoulx we enounter him. As for whomever wields it...a compulsory effect to bash in the skull of the nearset living thing will be activated.
The last of the items, a long masterwork silver flute that showed blemishes of tarnishing,she rolled along the shelf with her pen. Worth 300 gp. The Piper of Illmarsh's instrument. Simply carrying it doesn't trigger its curse--playing it shall. You will be caught up in playing the Piper's trademark dirge he used to herald his victims' demise as he set his pet stirges on them to drain them dry as they lay paralyzed. Also, you will start bleeding from all of your orfices as you play.Unless you are physically restrained or the flute removed from your person, you will play until you either succumb to unconsciousness...or drop dead. Either one.
We'll either have to break down the door or retrace our steps and find another way inside. I do believe our combined effort could do that easily.
"Let me try." Evrasi braced herself and shoved her shoulder into the door.
She gave a little eep as she bounced off the door and fell to her backside. She frowned at the door, rubbing her shoulder, before looking up at Ortensia. "Perhaps we should just use the front doors?"
Evrasi and Ortensia are unable to open the door.
GM note - can you let me know who is carrying which of the items.