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Riff stares at nDevere for a second and then answers. "I'll call for Father Grimburrow to inspect the weapons. If I hear that any of my chickens or pigs have gone missing or slaughtered, you'll be joining them. I know each one of them all by name. Have a good day mam." Riff makes the sign of Pharasma and escorts his prisoners to jail.
You are free to investigate the farm.
Drasven follows freely behind Riff, his sense of unease growing though he dismisses it for fatigue.
"You do what you need to do. We'll do what we need to do and be where we have to be." his parting words linger in the air as he trudges along.
Follows with complete cooperation. Answers all questions truthfully, and uses basic Diplomacy to ease tensions and alter their moods to something more favorable. He stays calm and friendly.
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Zavar attempts to assist nDevere, automatically succeeding with Perception.
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Rain begins to pelt the ground. The hard mud partially frozen from the night's chill begins to soften. Any signs of tracks will soon fade...
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Father Grimburrow arrives at the jail on a cold rainy morning. His 85 year old frame moves slower than it did when you first met him at Professor's funeral. He coughs a couple times and wipes his nose with a handkerchief. Shaking the water off his black cotton cloak made heavier by the rain seems to take all of his strength.
Riff closes the door and hangs up the father's cloak on a wooden coat rack.
"What sorry mess do you get yourself into lads? Did you not have time to change your clothes before getting into trouble?"
His brow furrows even more than usual seeing pairs of manacles secured on each of your ankles and wrists. Your recent battle scars and walk through the rain emphasized the blood and mud stains on your soaked nightgowns. The Father shakes his head and sighs at your disheveled appearance. He drags a three legged stool next to your cell and rubs his holy symbol between his thumb and forefingers. His raspy voice is barely audible as he mumbles a short desperate prayer.
"Mother, please save them."
A channel of positive energy washes over the room healing your wounds. Grimburrow leans closer through the bars and examines your vitals. He peers into your eyes and ears with a magnifying glass. He places bandages around Windom's neck after applying a sticky yellow residue. The residue stings fiercely.
Sheriff Benjan Caeller strolls into the jailhouse and stares at you intently. Raindrops recede down around his long brimmed hat and drip to the stone floor. He removes his hat and places it on a deer head's antlers followed by a beautiful alligator raincoat.
"G'morning Father and Deputy Riff. Any liquor on their breath? I need to take Winom's and Drasven's sworn statements when they've sobered up."
Grimburrow responds, "They're sober alright. Please tell Brother Lamb to fetch my ivory case. The one with the bandaged neck was diseased and they are both cursed."
Riff nods, "That is what one of their friends said. She blamed their weapons."
The gruff farmer unties the knotted twine around a brown sack with a wooden shaft poking through. A shiny mithril warhammer and bloody adamantime greataxe clang to the ground.
"Very interesting. I've heard stories about cursed weapons and never thought I'd live long enough to see them. They brought me a haunted blade the other day, but these are much more dangerous. Please do not touch them!" Father Grimburrow exclaims.
Will give a sworn statement, no lies.
Cassandra will follow along with nD.
To Father Grimburrow and Sheriff Benjan
Thank you for your help and confirmation of what I feared was the matter at hand. As for my statement; myself and the others that have been deputized for the task of finding the source of setting fire to the meeting hall and unleashing the restless dead on the town goes thus far as this. We had entered Harrowstone fighting many strange things. A scythe guided by magic near removed my head in one swing, there was many foul spirits of inmates that perished in the fire. Many of these foul spirits are the famous five, including Chopper and Farther Charlatan. We had also encountered large blood sucking creatures like mosquitos and skeletons. During our cleansing of Harrowstone we encountered the Warden's wife, she is a ghost. She told us their was a cult of sorts below Harrowstone that is up to no good. She says the Warden is also a ghost but is currently trying to contain many other ghosts from escaping Harrowstone. She gave us her wedding band to prove we were there to aid in stopping the ill work of the cult to her husband. One of my female companions currently carries the ring. We also discovered these cursed weapons and a few more items on our excavating of the haunted place, using them because they are of much finer quality than what we carried at the moment. We decided to finish clearing the top floor of restless spirits for a variety of reasons before venturing into the level below. We encountered another attack from the denizens of Harrowstone and drained of spells and stamina decided to retreat for the night less our weariness be the death of us. After walking home, having a quick bite to eat, checking in on Kendra, I said my prayers and took a much needed rest. However this did not occur and I woke with a pig in a pen. Before surrendering I did notice an injury to the hind quarter of the swine that caused it to bleed out and die, please have someone inspect the wound. Note the wound to the pig's skull must of been applied postmodern. I would also pay for any damages to the farm and for the pig that occurred as a result of my unwilling participation in this foul act. I also want this mattered cleared and proven that myself and companions are innocent so we may continue with our task. Please if there are any further questions I would be only more than happy to have this record set straight so do ask.
To father Grimburrow
Oh, how does one dispose of a haunt siphon? We have contained several spirits that need to be placed to rest.
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The tracks lead toward the Harrowstone Memorial. Other than the looming ruins of Harrowstone on a nearby hill, Ravengro’s most distinctive landmark is a 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue that overlooks the river. Before you reach the memorial, the tracks veer off at Gibs Hephenus’s shack. This ramshackle building is home to one of Ravengro’s most foul-tempered retired farmers.
How would Cassandra and nDevere like to proceed?
Drasven nods and makes no move of any hostile intent.
"What my companion Windom says is true. These hands are stained with blood not of my consent. I'm sure those weapons are fine but it seems that we may need to be away from them in order to have these curses removed. Father is there any way we can do so? Having these curses removed that is."
"I fear what these hands may do should my restraints be removed and thus I asked that they do not be removed until whatever curse afflicts ms is removed." He continues even as he maintains his position and waits for the appropriate time to pray.
Cassandra whispers:
"nD, I believe you should cautiously approach the shack for a better look. The farmer may be in danger."
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Sheriff Benjan Caeller writes your statements down and waits in silence. His steely gaze bores a hole through the back of your heads.
Grimburrow quickly responds to Windom's question. "A haunt siphon destroys the spirit contained within when it breaks against a hard surface. Be careful as the negative energy can effect those nearby. The spirit will also be destroyed if it is released in a vat of holy water."
Rubbing his wrinkled chin, the Father ponders Drasven's question before replying. "The only way to truly end a curse is to destroy the origin's spirit who is manifesting it. When Brother Lamb returns with my scroll case, I will be able to temporarily relieve you of the curse until you wield the weapon once more. I suggest leaving these unholy items behind until both spirits have been laid to rest. I will take them into custody and lock them away in our vaults."
The Sheriff waits for awkward silence and then begins. "Sounds like haunts of Harrowstone are infecting our town. Whether it is due to your interference or this cult you mentioned is to be determined. My grandpappy knew the Warden Hawkran well and would tell me his story while bouncing on his knee when I was a small boy. The Warden made Ravengro and lawmen everywhere in Ustalav proud the day he gave his life in that dreadful fire. So you say he and his poor wife still protects us know? That I can believe..."
The Sheriff relaxes his expression. "What more can you tell me about this cult? Most of us attend the Father's weekly sermons. He can bring the fear of the Boneyard into any honest man's soul."
"I can't tell you much other than we were intent on destroying this cult that has already taken an outstanding member of your town....perhaps Windom can tell you more."
As stated before we encountered the Warden's wife. If you will allow it we could bring you to her to give absolute proof. She is the one the confirmed my theory of a necromancer cult in the town. She however did not have additional details other that the cult is getting the spirits of the dead agitated for unknown reasons. They may have a plan to use the restless dead nefariously. Either let us go to thwart their plan or find someone else to dive into the underbelly of Harrowstone and flush them out.
Father Grimburrow has already confirmed we are cursed and by compulsion did not have control of our actions. After he cures us we will be of no more danger.
If the crime I am being held for is trespassing and butchering a prized pig I will gladly pay the fine and damages. We have resisted nothing and have nothing to gain from lying. My interest lays in destroying the black cult that desecrated my friend professor Lotimer's body.
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Sheriff Benjan Caeller smirks. "So no proof, huh. Not even one name? I figured as much."
"I have no intention or desire to visit Harrowstone and speak with ghosts. That is a job better left to priests, paladins and diviners such as yourselves. Assault, murder, vandalism and theft are crimes that I'm primarily concerned with.
"Payment of 10 gold for the prized pig and rooster will suffice. Why not kill the runts of the litter instead of the ones without blemishes? Farmer Dane would have been much less disappointed. If you further display behavior which you cannot account for, then you will sit in jail for an entire week in addition to payment for any damages."
"Riff. Unlock these gentlemen tomorrow morning if Father Grimburrow determines no other ailment troubles them. Take payment to Farmer Dane with our condolences. He probably won't win Ravenfair at harvest. Sitting in jail for the night will prove the town's new deputies are not above the law. I'll keep an eye on them until you return."
The sheriff puts away his journal and retrieves a pipe and fancy tobacco pouch. He fills the room with smokey bourbon and vanilla aroma while sitting with his feet propped on the desk. The jail is poorly ventilated and soon becomes thick with smoke.
Father Grimburrow coughs repeatedly until he curtly excuses himself. He dons his wet black cloak with an icy stare toward the Sheriff.
"I'll return shortly. It seems Brother Lamb is taking longer than anticipated."
The sheriff ignores him and returns his steely gaze toward you.
My apologies. I did not think to give you the Warden's wife's name. She introduced herself as Vesorianna. She also states her husband still in death keeps the undead spirits of Harrowstone imprisoned.
Vesorianna also says the cult leader is a gray skinned old human that wears a breastplate made of bone. He also weilds a club with a skull on top, if I recall the details correctly it is a black skull on the top.
Sir I am not being rude but if you are recording the details verbatim they should be correct. I do appreciate the depth of the details you are trying to record. It will also let me and my friend here clear our names unquestionably with providing this proof.
Drasven nods.
"We will wait here and I'll ask that these manacles are not taken off and I be left chained here in case I perform actions that I am not in control off."
Settling down in a corner once his requests are met.
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This appears to be the Professor's journal; most entries detail life in a small town but there are spots here and there that have been circled in red. Today is 25th of Calistril, 4711.
20th Pharast (March), 4700:
The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.
18th Kuthona (December), 4710:
It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?
19th Erastus (January), 4711:
Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense—the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity—there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.
29th Erastus, 4711:
It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.
31st Erastus, 4711:
I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation—hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.
1st Calistril (February), 4711:
This evening I will return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I hastily updated my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.
Cassandra whispers to nD "Please gather that evidence carefully. I believe that we should speak with Father Grimburrow regarding the potential of Gibbs to be cursed, as our friends were."
"Let us proceed to town, and see if we can pick up Zavar, and see what sort of trouble Windom and Drasven are currently in.
Cassandra, nD, and Zavar approach the Sheriff's office to meet with Sheriff Caeller regarding the evidence uncovered at Gibb's house, and the evidence against Windom and Drasven.
"Sheriff Caeller, as usual, the pleasant aroma of pipe smoke welcomes us to your office. We understand that Brother Windom and Master Dwarf Drasven are in your custody for the death of Farmer Dane's pig and rooster."
"While performing our investigations this morning following the discovery that Windom and Drasven were missing from the Professors home, we have uncovered some very disturbing items. Please accept this bloodstained silver razor and bloodstained waterskin that were uncovered hidden among the firewood pile of Mr. Gibbs. During our investigation, Mr. Gibbs was butchering some ribs, and we opted to not disturb his chopping. We fear that he may be an unwilling, and unwitting tool being utilized by the evils that lurk within Harrowstone, and seek to sully the reputations of our friends, and destroy the town our friend loved so much."
"My friend here has observed the the attitudes of our companions seemed to shift after they began wielding these hidden weapons within the confines of Harrowstone. We fear that the weapons may be closely tied to the evilest five of the prisoners of Harrowstone. We suggest that perhaps Father Grimburrow might have some additional insights into what ails these men. I believe that Father Grimburrow may also be able to provide us some insight as to whether Mr. Gibbs has also been affected by the foul magic of Harrowstone and the evils that lurk within."
"While exploring Harrowstone, we met with the spirit of lady Vesorianna, the late wardens wife. She met a most unfortunate end during that fire when the guards confined her to a room as the fire was starting, and then did not release her, and she died in the inferno. She provided us with information that matches information we have learned from the Professors journal. A group of dark magicians (a cult as you may refer to it) has taken an extreme interest in the spirits of the dark five of Harrowstone. Lady Vesorianna requested our assistance in putting to rest forever the souls of the dark five, thus allowing her husband and herself to rest in peace and move one."
"Lady Vesorianna, and Professor Lorrimor have both discovered that the group of dark magicians are performing dark magic in the dungeons below, and that the souls of the dark five remain on, and reach out into Ravengro for assistance. The leader of the group of dark magicians is a thin, gray-skinned human who wore a bone breastplate and carried a black staff capped with a skull gagged by a black cloth and that he killed the Professor by bashing his head with the remains of a gargoyle to make it appear accidental."
"The dark magicians have begun inscribing magical runes around the foundation of the prison. This group appears to be referred to as The Way. We owe it to Lady Vesorianna to complete her request, so that her and her husband can be reunited and move on from this realm into land beyond, so that Lady of Graves, Pharasma, may allow them to rest in peace."
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Sheriff Benjan Caeller smiles. "Thank you Lady Cassandra for presenting your evidence. I will head to the Harrowstone Memorial and match the desecrating bloodstains within this waterskin. If they indeed match, I will bring in Gibs for questioning. He is a well respected and long tenured citizen of Ravengro. I need to be absolutely sure your allegations are true before placing him under arrest."
He takes the bloody silver war razor from you and wraps it in his handkerchief.
"I am not familiar with the Way and arcane symbols on Harrowstone. However, I am familar with Lady Vesorianna and it appears you are wearing her wedding ring. Unless you have planted the evidence at Gibs' home and robbed the grave of an innoncent women, which is a possibility, I will believe your story for now."
The sheriff pushes his thumb into the pipe's bowl and stamps out the burning tobacco. His aligator boots swing over the desk as he rises to don his matching cloak from the mounted deer head. He opens the door and peers up at the sky.
"Oh look, the rain stopped. The day looks brighter than it did before. I will be back to unlock your friends after I pay Mr. Gibs a visit."
The sheriff's hat is left hanging on its antlers.
"I understand completely Sheriff. I would expect nothing less. My only caution would be that if Mr. Gibbs is affected by some sort of curse, or other magic, I would suspect that he would not even know of the actions, if he did do them. If that be the case, then Father Grimburrow will be vital in assisting us to determine the truth of what has transpired."
[ooc]Cassandra purposely ignores the Sheriff's insulting comment about her planting the evidence against Mr. Gibbs and stealing the ring of Lady Vesorianna. It is apparent that the magical issues at work here are so far beyond his understanding, that she will not even give him the pleasure of responding to his insults.[ooc]
"Didn't someone say Father Grimburrow was here and helping our friends earlier? I wonder where he is off to now. Perhaps we should check on him nD and Zavar while the Sheriff is out speaking with Mr. Gibbs?"
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Father Grimburrow returns to the smoke filled jail with an ivory scroll case shortly after the Sheriff departs. He props the door open with a three legged stool and slides opens a small window to allow fresh air to move through the room.
He turns to both prisoners, removes its cap and shakes out a tightly rolled parchments around an ivory wand with divine inscriptions. The Father licks his forefinger and thumbs through a dozen scrolls and stops halfway. The parchment edges are tattered and its coloration has faded over time. Father recites a prayer and begins his incantation.
"Lady of Graves, we humbly request your divine aid in removing the curses on these poor souls. Drasven Hammers...*cough* *cough*... by Pharasma's grace I release you from evil spirits! Windom, by Pharasma's grace I release you from evil spirits!"
Father Grimburrow flicks holy water on your faces from a clear flask bearing Pharasma's likeness on a silver insignia. "Those strong in faith will resist temptation that weaker men often succumb to in desperation. Refrain from intimate relations for the next week to allow your souls to completely heal."
After saying this a long awkward silences falls upon the room. Father Grimburrow brow furrows and responds in a reprimanding tone.
"It is not my intention to imply the nature of your nocturnal behavior. You need to be aware of the dangerous consequences of an evil spirit living inside your soul! It is plain that you have spent much of your time in Harrowstone and busying yourselves with the town's affairs."
Another long silence ensues. Realizing he is making some of you more uncomfortable, his tone softens again and hands the ivory wand to Cassandra.
"Lady Cassandra, please use this wand before the nightfall on both of them. It will detect if the evil spirits linger. I wish both of you a speedy recovery. I will answer any further questions and excuse myself. My responsibilities at the temple are many."
Father waits impatiently in the cramped room with the three of you standing together while Windom and Drasven sit in a five by ten foot cell. He hastily cleans a dirty mug with his handkerchief and pours himself a glass of water from clay jug. The elderly holy man departs after his services are not longer needed. The jail becomes more tolerable after 10 minutes as the air circulates the room.
"Father, thank you for the assistance. I shall check these men again with your wand this evening. I trust you are well, other than the smoke hanging in the air here? Is there anything you require at the moment? If not, then once the Sheriff returns, and we can free these two, we shall be off and back to our chores about town."
Thank you kindly Father
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"I am fine for an 85 year old man. Thank you for your concern. Every day is a blessing. I did not find Brother Lamb. My guess is he must be attending the needs of a local citizen. Good day." Father nods and departs.
The afternoon goes by and no one pesters you while waiting for the sheriff to return. It is getting close to dinner time. You have not eaten a decent meal for almost 24 hours. What do you do?
nD thank you. I am wondering if the sheriff is alright with Gibs. I am beginning to grow concerned. Could you look into him, maybe bring an unbiased witness with you in the event there has been an unfortunate event.
"I'll be fine with some rations as we travel down those depths to once more clear those spirits out. It seems rest is denied to me until the area is cleared of evil. The professor hinted that The Way was after something. We should make haste. If the curse still holds, a chicken and a pig maybe the least of our worries."
Drasven is clearly unhappy about being cursed and is more than eagar to get back to clearing the prison.
Windom agrees with the plan and rests so as to be ready for whatever unfolds.
He also request that when the group comes to release him from jail later they bring him his clothing so he doesn't have to walk around the city "naked" in his night shirt.
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Sheriff Benjan Caeller and Riff burst through the door carrying a resisting Gibs bound and gagged. Several muffled obscenities can be heard and are directed at you. Sheriff dumps Gibs on the stone floor after catching an elbow to his ear.
"Dammit old man! You coulda come peacefully, but no, you wanted it the hard way. We had to chase him all around town and cause a ruckus. Eventually, we cornered him at the Laughing Demon where his boys were already tying one on. It led to a full scale bar brawl. Riff could have really used your help. If it wasn't for Zokar, we would have lost more than our pride."
Its plain to see that Riff is in much worse shape than the others. One of his eyes is completely swollen shut and shards of glass stick out of hair. Dried blood covers his face and clothes.
"Gibs is tougher than nails, so he won't mind this..."
Gibs balances his weight on his head attempting to turn himself over in a sitting position. With all of his might, Riff kicks him in the mouth thwarting his efforts. Gibs' bloody tooth flies out of his mouth and lands on Zavar's shoulder. Bruises and minor cuts decorate Gibs weathered and worn face. The gag inadvertently lodges free by Riff's boot.
"I DID NUTTIN' WRONG! IT WAS THOSE #%$@ING KIDS! THEY SET ME UP!
Gibs continues to curse your ancestors, sexual orientation and heritage until the Sheriff gags him again.
"We collaborated your story matching the bloodstains on the Memorial with the evidence. We found several butchered livestock at Gibs' shack. It was highly suspicious unless he was changing professions or feeding an army, Finally, we spoke with Old Man Simmons, one of the few civilians up at such a late hour. He spotted Gibs sleepwalking around the past five nights. Before I forget, he wanted me to remind nDevere that your three night shift begins today at midnight in The Restlands."
The Sherriff points at the door. "All of you are free to go. Riff, get these folks out of my office. It's been a helluva day."
Gibs is dragged into the jail cell. His eyes are consumed by fiery rage and stares you down until you leave. At approximately 6 pm, the sun is almost setting in the late winter season. The chill air begs of a blazing fireplace and hot lamb stew. What do you do?
Drasven makes sure to have a set of manacles for himself to ensure his companions safety.
Turning to the closet companion.
"So what now? Should we till nDevere is done?"
Cassandra will tend to the wounds of the Sheriff and Riff. She will cast a spell if necessary.