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Brother Theo had been too busy scoping the area out for clues and was not able to rect quickly. "Fascinating, I do not remember running into one of those before. The wraith I ran into a few months ago was the only undead creature that I had personally dealt with. I will have to sit down with you Queth and find out more about them. he said.
Brother Theo took a closer look at the ghost. "Hello Margaret. From your statement, would I be safe to assume that one of the performers left you in your current state? Would you like to travel onward rather then being here? he asked.
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"Brother Theo, I would assume that this spirit, if not for the events that have unfolded here is otherwise benign and unwilling to move on. We are but passerby in this country. We should focus our efforts on willful sources of evil, as the perpetrators of the attack on the lady Sharnau and the other victims that preceded her. Good Margaret, is there anything else you can think of that would be of use to as we attempt to locate the missing actor?"
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Nobody knows the tunnels below like the swampers know them. The spirit smiles knowingly and sighs romantically. There are so many tales of the desperate seeking the witches and werebeasts of the mire, wishing for cures, curses, and more. Call on them, and they’ll answer. There’s a sinking manor carved with signs of swamp gods out in Graidmere. Go there and speak this aloud three times: ‘dark marsh, dark secrets, I petition thee.’ The swamp listens, and they’ll answer.”
At this point the ghost seems to grow distracted by something, That hair will never do! She glides away as if pursuing an unseen figure, fading away as she flies toward one of the walls.
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Heccan, having been observing the strange interaction with the group and the apparition, let's out an exacerbated sigh at the ghost's last words.
"Swamp? Did you say swamp?? By the laws! I hate swamps. Muddy collections of foul water. Of course it would have to be the swamp. Gah!"
Heccan runs a hand through is hair and calms himself. "Alright. Sooner we embark, the sooner I can wash the swamp from my clothes. Shall we?
Heccan sweeps his arm dramatically towards the exit.
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The fetid expanse known as Graidmere Swamp lies northwest of Karcau. It's easy enough to get basic directions to the swamp, typically accompanied by skeptical looks and the occasional inquiry to your sanity. Knowing exactly where to go, Margeret's sinking manor, will require some time to figure out.
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After several late night hours searching for information you find the right young sir.
Ah, you must be referring to the ruined estate known as Tangledyne, it's about an hour’s travel from the city.
He provides you directions to find it. Before sharing more about Tangledyne.
The ruined structure dates back several hundred years to a drier period in the county’s history, but as Lake Prophyra rose, the groundwater seeped up and triggered the estate’s quick abandonment and gradual collapse. He adds before including a few more details.
Long before that, the land site was sacred to the Kellid tribes that traveled here to commune with ancient entities. It now serves as a ritual site where the more magically inclined swampers work their rituals.
As long as you step carefully you should be able to keep noses and ears above water.
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Following the directions, a bright full moon guides you path. Beyond the cosmopolitan confines of the city, the theaters and academies give way to ramshackle farmsteads—moss-draped shacks occupied by suspicious farmers. Gnarled vines seem to pull every structure down into the swamp, and the roads gradually deteriorate into muddy footpaths. The air becomes thick with mosquitoes and the shrill shrieks of unseen creatures in the dark.
As the first light of the pre-dawn breaks, impromptu causeways of soggy debris wind through the swamp, several converging on a decaying stone manor whose walls have settled, sagged, and sunk unevenly into the wet ground. Garlands of sinew strung with animal bones hang from the stones like a threadbare spider web, partly obscuring the small carvings incised into the crumbling stone. A small hut of wooden posts and woven grasses stands atop a nearby hummock.
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Queth's careful search notes no other creatures here save for harmless wildlife wading in the water and buzzing above the plants. Human footprints lead from the south to the small hut and back again. The small hut nearby contains a reed mat and several small ceramic vessels.
Balazar notes the wall carvings are very old and partly overgrown with moss and lichen, they seem to feature a long-tailed lizard with three-toed claws.
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Heccan snaps his eyes open, as if recovering from a trance. He nods to Kudor thankfully and looks about the swamp.
"Well, nothing too out of the ordinary out there, save for the damp, the smell and the contestable bugs. Ah!" The Chelaxian slaps at his neck with surprising quickness."I suppose we gain nothing by standing about. Kudor old boy... he turns to regard the human, sizing the man up I suspect you know your way about the shadows. Care to take a look for any surprises?"
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Kudor looks around the area carefully and finds human footprints leading from the south to the small hut and back again; they look to be 3 days-old imprints and looks like 3 different people, 2 men and a woman (or perhaps a gnome). A few other tracks can be found here and there, but they look older and would be difficult to follow for more than a few feet.
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Queth examines the ruins and decides this once must have been a nice estate. The stonework sunken and defaced with carving as it is shows a high quality of workmanship.
Herodotus gives the hut a more through look, the mat seems simple enough and is made of reeds; the small ceramic vessels are crudely craft and empty. Seems to be more of a weigh station than a home or liar.
As you search the site for seemingly non-existent clues, you wonder to yourselves, why did we traipse into the swamp to start with, oh yeah, it was a ghost's idea.
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Balazar recalls the ghost's instructions and speaks the words. As soon as he finishes, the foraging birds, mammals, and insects all suddenly pause, and examine you more closely, and then hastily depart the area. You are sure something has happened. Yet the waiting continues...
About an hour later, what you presume are two swampers approach the hut from the northeast, flanked by two enormous Swamp Hogs. Both are dirty with scraggly hair, the first one seems to be wearing an animal skull on his head and carries a spear; while the second one carries a bow. Both have animal bones and geometric patterns of mud adorned on their armor, clothing, and skin.
They stop when they realize you see them and the one in front speaks.
Nowb, da swamp ain't to friend to ya citiers; how ya lern to call fur da dem tat got no names, but be voices of da beasts, da swamp, an' da w'ter?
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"Perhaps she passed before your time. Nonetheless, she resides amidst the halls of the Closoi treater, eternally caring for hairdos and makeup, a echo, dare I say a ghost of her life past." Herodotus pauses, giving Heccan a look both a warning and an invitation to use his silver tongue.
"Margaret told us to seek you out in the search for those who have gone missing within the city, especially since one of the actors she cares for is among the disappeared. As you so said, we are city-ers. We seek out because it is your land and an area you have expertise in."