Kendra shakingly nods her head, following Melk and Run into the kitchen. They silently prepare tea, each of them with a different task. Kendra gets the teapot and cups out while Melk brings water to a boil and Run measures out the proper amount of leaves and crushing them before adding them in. Petros has (had) a strange device in the kitchen: a magical device that automatically generates a flame, which can be used to heat food and drink on its surface. It is a marvelous and exotic item.
Azuk'ai opens the front door, Aydan directly behind him as backup. In this town, the knock at the door might be an angry revenant or other such ghostly visitor. Instead of a ghost, it is Sheriff Caeller waiting at the front door. "Evening, folks. Can I come in?" He enters without waiting for a response. "You ready to check out the scene of the murder? Steel yourselves, as the body is still there. It's a gruesome sight."
In what Melk is sure is a reassuring gesture he whispers back to Run, "I don't think you are scary either." He holds Kendra by the hand as they progress to the kitchen, and when she shows him how the magical stove is intended to work he blushes a little. But it isn't clear why.
The pretty waitress gasps and sits down next to Tanner. "I'm sorry, I thought you would have known! He passed a few weeks ago. It was some sort of accident at the Harrowstone. They buried him last night." She pours herself a drink and downs it in a single gulp. "Are you okay? You must be devastated. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
'Sherriff, yes, come in. The lady of the house is indisposed for the moment, but if you'd like to come where we were doing our studies. We've gotten a few fragments of clues. I'm looking forward, well no, I'm not, but I want to see what we can find at the scene of the crime.'
Aydan leads the man in and towards the piled books and scibbled notes the party had been making. As he goes he touches the hilt of his sword, fingers lingering there for a moment.
'Lady bless us. Would you like a drink while we wait, or shall we just gather the others and get at it? I'd like to get this gruesome business over and done, and hope that we don't have to visit any more murder scenes in the future.'
"Well...I have been traveling. I was supposed be with..well, I was supposed to meet him here."
Tanner pushes the stew away, no longer hungry. Instead, he grabs the bottle and pours himself another. With his other hand he unconsciously reaches out and gives her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Thanks...having this come from a sympathetic and friendly face is a help. But, I just don't understand...an accident?...What is the Harrowsrone?...and he is already buried?" He is no longer looking at her. His head is bowed and he stares down at the bar counter. The candlelight on the bottle seems to dance, catching a chaotic swirl of tiny currents of its contents.
Azuk'ai just nods and steps aside to let the sheriff in. "Kendra's not feeling well. Between her fathers death and the assault last night I can't say I blame her." he fills in on Ayden's welcome. Falling in he lets Ayden lead the way and follows up after Sheriff Caeller to the study. "We've been asked to stay a month with her before heading off to Lepidstadt to finish Petros's last will and testament." he explains in hushed tones as they head up.
Caeller refuses Aydan's offered drink politely but firmly. "No, thanks. I don't drink when I'm working, though your surly friend Wesh certainly makes me wish that I did." He takes off his wide-brimmed hat and holds it in his hand as he makes his way in. He looks around the study, carefully taking in details but otherwise remaining quiet. He looks over the information they have, including the thesis about Aladil Kalkaroth's murders. He grimaces as he reads the reference to Harrowstone. "A few generations ago, that prison was the town's greatest blessing. It supplied jobs, money, the rest of Ustalav knowing about Ravengro. After it burned, though, it's a curse on the town. We didn't have cults or serial killers before. Sometimes I wish it would just cave in and never bother us again..." He is bitter and angry, his words full of hate for Harrowstone.
"Can we get going? It will be dark in a few minutes."
The waitress seems wholly interested in trying to console him, her previous confidence replaced by concern. "I heard that he was exploring the old Harrowstone Prison and jostled a statue, which fell on him. I don't know why he would have gone in there alone. The old place is haunted by everyone who died in the fire." She stands up to retrieve some stronger liquor. "I'm Sarianna, by the way. Sarianna Vai."
"I heard that he was exploring the old Harrowstone Prison and jostled a statue, which fell on him. I don't know why he would have gone in there alone. The old place is haunted by everyone who died in the fire."
I know why he was alone...couldn't he have waited, what ever it was he was doing? His notebook would say what he was up to, where ever that got to.
"I'm Sarianna, by the way. Sarianna Vai."
His head comes up when she mentions her name. He sees the concern in her eyes. He watches as she pours out two glasses, and sadly says, "I would have looked forward to learning your name under different circumstances, Sarianna."
He takes the proffered glass and raises it to her. "To the Professor then. A good man, scholar, and friend...no, a really good man." He clinks glasses with her and downs the potent spirit. He feels the burn, but his overwhelmed senses numb the worst of it. Absentmindedly he sets the glass down, looks into its depth and mutters, "That's some good stuff."
He looks up to her again, a trace of confusion still knitted between his brows. "His funeral was yesterday? But it rained all day...well at least west of here it did. Poor Professor..." Tanner hops off his seat a little unsteadily, whether due to his confusion or the drinks is uncertain. "I should go visit him, I mean his grave. I should pay my respects. And then probably have a look around this Harrowstone. Where?...Where would I find them?, he asks her quizzically, like a small boy looking for his missing toys.
In preparation to leave, he sets to randomly patting his pockets as if doing a survey of their contents unconsciously, and thus failing to note his discoveries.
'Good plan Sherriff, I'm eager to get going myself. Akuz'ai, do you want to holler for the other two, and we'll get going.' Aydan shudders and sets to grabbing his greatsword and strapping it on. Never know what's going to go horribly wrong.
Melk arrives only a little after the sheriff's urging to get going, with Run and Kendra looking over his shoulder. Two steaming cups of herbal infusion in hand. "Would you like a tea, good Sheriff? It is good against the night. "
"Sure." Azuk'ai is quick to respond to Ayden, heading off to fetch Melk and Run. Meeting Melki in the door he stops to fill him in. "We're leaving Melk. Sheriff Caeller has come to take us to the crime scene." and sets off to find Run.
With everyone collected, Sheriff Caeller politely takes his leave of the Lorrimor house, putting his wide-brimmed hat before leaving. Under the cover of dusk, the lawman leads them into town and to the victim's house. It is quiet as they approach. The sheriff's voice breaks the silence. "The family has taken refuge with their friends and neighbors. As you can understand, family members don't want to stay in a place that has seen such horror."
He opens the door, which creaks loudly. They enter in a line, their footsteps echoing through the empty house off its wooden floors. "It's upstairs. The body is still there. Brace yourself. It's a grisly sight. Father Grimburrow will be ready to take the body at first light and inter it in the Restlands. I just hope that this isn't the first of many burials that this town will have to see." He leads them up the stairs, each step a heavy one.
As they make it to the landing, he points to a room off to the side. "There. I've seen it enough. Kilder was a good kid. I watched her grow up. I never expected to have to see her dead in there... Make of it what you will. I'm heading back to the jail. Your elven wizard friend has been working on some interesting theories, though the other one has been less than helpful." He returns down the stairs, shutting the front door behind him.
They hesitatingly peer into the room, not really wanting to see what is inside. As their eyes get used to the darkness, the details come to light. It is a girl's room, as a number of dresses hang off nearly every surface. It appears that she was a seamstress, as the scattered bits of cloth on the floor suggest that she was mid-project. A half-finished dress hangs off a figure on the side of the room, a white dress with intricate lace. The girl's body lays in bed, flat on her back. Dried blood soaks the pillow and the bed from the wide slash in her neck. Her eyes are open and in abject terror, though her hands are gently resting on her stomach. Her face is drawn and pale, the result of the draining of the blood. The sight of horrific butchery, especially in contrast to the cheerful disorganization of the room, is incredibly upsetting and unsettling.
Sarianna's face falls as he mentions going to the Harrowstone. "No, you can't! Not tonight, at least. The town's not safe at night. Please, wait until the morning." She offers him a coy smile, a bit of her earlier confidence returning. "I could make it worth your while to stay. I'm sure you'd like a sympathetic shoulder to rest on. I could be that for you..."
Aydan places a hand over his mouth for a moment, gathering his resolve and stealing his stomach. It never gets easier. The sight of blood never loses its horror. I fear the day that it does.
Drawing the symbol of Pharasma over his chest he steels his jaw and steps into the room, walking over to the bed to stand over the body of the poor young seamstress. He remains silent, standing his own mournful vigil for this young women that he would never now know.
'Has anyone get training as a surgeon or medic? Can you tell how the blood was... drained.'
Aydan looks over the bed and tries to piece together what he can about the murder with his own eyes and intuitions.
Stepping softly into the room Azuk'ai tries to take in every detail and see if somthing stands out, somthing he might find odd or misplaced in the room.
"I think it just got soaked into the bed Ayden, but let me look." Azuk'ai says quietly, feeling almost reverant in the precence of the poor girl. 'Lady take her, she deserves peace after facing such a horror.' he prays silently as he looks her over, his eyes glinting a soft red light.
Tanner catches her look and seems to regain some of his senses. The light was fading outside. She spoke sense in that he shouldn't be wandering around in the dark in a strange town. Maybe things can wait...
"Well, another drink then. One more can't hurt and it's not like the Professor will be going anywhere without me." His good mood returning, he thinks, It'll all work out in the morning. It always does. Looking into Sarianna's eyes and her coy smile, Tanner fails to note he uttered those very words less than a month ago. But, then again why should he, that wasn't the first time he said them either.
He settles in at the bar again and shares tales of his daring while in the Professor's employ. And all the scrapes the Professor helped him out of. As Tanner samples more of the town's good spirits he thinks, Yes..tis better I raise a proper wake for him now, than had I been here for a dreary funeral in the rain. With a beautiful girl hanging on his arm, in a warm tavern, with good drink, he was definitely seeing the advantages of the situation.
Tomorrow Professor...We can talk then, and I will find your notebook, maybe try to finish what you started...but tomorrow. Tanner catches the warm scent of Sarianna's perfume and all remaining thoughts of notebooks and graveyards leave his mind.
Melk approaches the body, a warm look in his eyes - probably granted him by the heavy fissures of his face. He studies the posture and expression, the serenity on the one hand and the abject terror on the other. He mutters to himself a while, the smiling expression only revealing his severity by the tears that roll down his cheeks. Over the course of time he suggests what his opinion, "I think some power paralyzed this girl, paralyzed her body, but not her mind. It is terrible, she witnessed her own murder in horrible detail."
Run's eyes fill with tears. She is not at all disturbed by cadavers, nor blood -- she is a scientist, after all, and anatomy studies are but one of many classes she has excelled in -- but senseless violence done against another living creature is more than she can bear, and one of many reasons she sought to embark on her ghost-breaking ways; to give those poor spirits rest, and to destroy those undead, of any sort, that would seek to perpetuate such horrors against the innocent.
Like this poor girl.
"We only get one go-round..." she whispers to herself. "...and it should not end like this."
The alchemist is not trained as a healer, but immediately puts her mind to work on any possible magical significance that may lie in a ritualized death of this sort, and what one might gain by draining blood in this manner. With a sniffle, she pulls out a reference book from her backpack and pages unhappily through it, checking various arcane rituals and natural properties, and cross-referencing those against various religious rites.
The disturbing sight doesn't fade as the inspect the details, but rather becomes more stark. Melk's suggestion seems apt, as her body seems strangely relaxed rather than tensed. Her wide-open eyes are clouded, the sure sign that her soul is long-vanished from the body. Runyon confirms this with a magical inspection, seeing the lingering lines of an enchantment spell that likely paralyzed her as the killer slit her throat. A few small drops of blood on the floor suggest that she was held off the side of the bed and drained of blood through gravity, just as the sheriff suggested. The blood was drained while she was still alive, as there is no lividity where the blood settled. Runyon looks at this with an impartial eye, not allowing her feelings of pity for the victim to interfere with the investigation.
As Runyon inspects the body, Azuk'ai checks the room for details. As he checks one of the windows, he notices a waxy substance sticking to the bottom of the windowsill. Running his finger along the bottom of the sill, he inspects the strange viscous substance, trying to figure out what it is. Whatever it is, it doesn't look right.
"Hey guys, look at this. It seems strangely familiar somehow."
Runyon glances over and offers a little assistance. "I suspect that substance is not a natural occurrence. Perhaps it is paranormal in nature, especially considered in the context of our previous encounters with various apparitions."
"..phenominal.." Azuk'ai frowns as his brain works overtime to connect the dots, suddenly his brow rises in realization. "Ectoplasm! This room was recently visited by a ghost! Could it be our killer?" Azuk'ai turns back to the group, fired up about the prospect of the connection with their own visit last night. "Could the fukker from last night be the killer? Could it manifest itself to slit the poor girls throat?"
'Given that we know a killer with this pattern was incarcerated in Harrowstone, and that it burned down, likely with the prisoners inside, and our other ghost trouble... Well it's looking increasingly like we're going to have to pay that Pharasma forsaken place a visit. But we need to plan to be able to fight ghosts. Shall we step out into the hall? I'd rather not stand over this poor girl's body longer than we need to?' Assuming the others assent Aydan walks out into the hallway and closes the door when the last of his friends leave. More ghosts? How haunted is this town? How the hell do we kill the already dead?
Melk looks a tad worried. Which in his case must signify a rather large deal of concern. "In Lepidstadt, the spirits that had remained... ich... am not sure how to explain. As if they are a bundle of memory that could still interact with the world." He looks to the Sheriff, "Has a cleric seen if the soul of this girl is with Pharasma? Maybe the... ek-toh-p... what Azuk'ai found is a hint that the girl's spirit is still here. Maybe she can help us?"
Runyon glances over and offers a little assistance. "I suspect that substance is not a natural occurrence. Perhaps it is paranormal in nature, especially considered in the context of our previous encounters with various apparitions."
Runyon looks both pained and excited at the same time. This is, after all, exactly the sort of thing she'd been hoping to get involved with, the type of work on which to base the core of her nascent small business. She just was hoping to start with haunts, not brutal murders. "It could very well be the ghost, or some other spectre that leaves similar transplanar residue as it travels. I would be...interested to speak with the victim, but I do not yet possess such magics as are required to do so. For that we would have to enlist aid."
'Well, if we were every going to put that Planchette to use now might be the time, I feel like we're taking baby steps down the road towards realisation, but baby steps won't do when people's lives are in danger. Words won't do, theories won't do. We need to act, and I think our next action should be to attempt a seance with this girl's spirit. Maybe our young preist friend can help us, I'd rather not involve Father Grimburrow, is motives and feelings towards us and Petros have been both clear and strong.' Aydan looks impassioned at his speech, clearly having decided that this must be the path they take.
'What say you friends? Shall we ask this poor girl what dark creature perpetrated her fate?'
Melk doesn't look like he's about to object, but he glances over to the sheriff worried that he might not like the plan. "Ich think that is a good plan. If she responds, maybe we can get a vital clue."
"It would help getting answers but should we be worried about atracting an unvanted spirit?" Azuk'ai asks, the memory of last nights haunt still fresh on his mind.
Aydan sits on the floor of Kilder's room, inviting the others to join him. With the spirit planchette in hand, he lays the thin wooden board it came with on the ground. The board is inscribed with every Common letter, as well as "Yes" and "No" on the sides. He reaches down to touch the planchette lightly as it is intended to be used. Melk sits down next to him, apparently unperturbed as always, and puts his fingers on the other side. Azuk'ai and Runyon watch, though the half-elf looks on with suspicion while Runyon's eyes glisten with curiousity.
The girl's dead eyes continue to stare upwards as Aydan and Melk attempt to contact her spirit. It is quiet enough in the room that any movement or breathing echoes like thunder. Slowly, as the moments pass, a raindrop hits the window. Another follows seconds after. Only half a minute later, rain slaps against the window, indicating that another stormy night has reached Ravengro.
As the storm builds up outside, the planchette moves ever so slightly. Aydan and Melk look at each other, silently questioning if it was the other. A faint whisper, too quiet to discern, creeps through the house. Their hands tremble as it moves, seemingly of its own accord.
Runyon looks up from the board and tries to stifle a shriek. Standing directly behind Aydan is the murdered girl, blood dripping from the open gash in her throat. She is translucent and ghostly, her corpse still visible and unmoving in the bed. Her blond hair is soaked in blood at the tips, matted together against her skin. She reaches out and touches Aydan's back, opening her mouth as if trying unsuccessfully to talk.
Runyon literally bites her tongue to keep from speaking, her fear of interrupting Aydan's magic far outweighing her need to warn him. Trust him. He's a good man, and he knows what he's doing. Melk is there, surely he sees what I see. Her green eyes are huge as she observes everything she possibly can about the ghost, checking the floor for ectoplasm or other manifestation residue.
The elf also has her hands clenched behind her back in a similar effort at self control, seeking in this case to not bring out a notebook and start furiously scribbling notes.
As the apparition manifests behind Aydan, Melk involuntarily stiffens for a moment - fight or flight nerves screaming out at him. But they quickly pass. He feels more sorry now, for the girl, he sees how she's different from the spirits in Lepidstadt's prison: the girl was still completely new to this. She might not even have accepted - or realized - that she's dead.
Melk looks to the man before him. Go. Listen to her, she will tell you everything.
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Looking up quisicaly as Run gives a small sound Azuk'ai is puzzled by her demenor, the usually vibrant elf seems to be sitting on her hands for some reason, trying hard to remain still, biting her tounge even. 'Out of respect maybee?' he ponders as he follows her gaze.
Follows her gaze and freezes. Taking an unvolentary step backward Azuk'ai's eyes widen and his mouth works silently as he points at the apparation behind Ayden. "..Ayden.." he finally manages. ..Ayden, behind you!.."
Run looks pointedly at Aydan as Azuk'ai says this, her mouth still closed. She stares at the Pharasman warrior and gestures with her head towards the ghost.
The ghostly form of the teenage girl touches Aydan's back. She shudders and flickers briefly, her plaintive eyes staring at the assembled group. He gasps as her cold hands enter his body. She disappears with a silent gasp, as Aydan begins to shudder and shake.
He falls to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. He grabs at his own neck, thrashing wildly at an unseen attacker. He whimpers and cries out, but it is not his own voice. It is a girl's voice, almost certainly that of the murdered girl. Aydan suddenly stops shaking, gasping for air and remaining utterly still. He lays on his back, eyes affixed to the ceiling. With the same female voice, Aydan speaks, remaining unsettlingly still in the same position as the corpse on the bed. "Am I... Dead?"
Axuk'ai takes half a step forward as the girl touches Ayden, moving to help him, but stops as he can't figure out how to help. Instead he just clenches his fists and grits his teeth in frustration as he watches helplessly as Ayden racts to the touch.
Approching cautiously as Ayden lies still Azuk'ai nearly jumps back when he speaks in that unfamiliar voice, raking his brane Azuk'ai approches slowly. "Kilder? Kilder is that you?"
In Aydan's body but with her own voice, she answers, "Yes. Am I... Dead?" Aydan's eerie stillness is absolute, his chest not rising or falling from breathing. If not for the spectral voice, the others would have difficulty noticing any signs of life whatsoever.
"Yes, Kilder. I'm sorry, but yes you are." Azuk'ai says as gently as he can. "Can you help us Kilder? Can you help us catch the one who did this to you? Do you remember your killer?"
Melk's face stays a stony smile. This poor poor girl, I can't help her the way the good Professor did. He shifts his position, moving and turning Aydan-turned-Kilder such that he/she faces away from the bed. I hope she won't have to suffer unnecessarily now.
"I am very sorry, too. But this murderer is still out there - we're trying to find him. Or her. Before more will be killed. Please, anything you can remember."
Aydan remains still, frozen in their shared rigor mortis. "It was dark, raining. I didn't hear him come in. I just looked up and saw him standing above me. I couldn't move, couldn't scream. I was so scared..." The ghostly voice is quiet for a moment. "I could see through him. I thought it was a nightmare, but it hurt so much when he cut me. His knife was black as night, black as his soul; I could see it." Through Aydan, Kilder whimpers. "Am I... Dead?"
Though she is crying, Run is able to call on years of academic discipline to help keep her voice from shaking. But it is very, very difficult. Unable to hold back any longer, and sensing that a certain part of the ritual is complete now, she speaks. "Kilder, yes. I am so, so sorry. We are here to help. We want this killer brought to justice, or, barring that possibility...'removed' in whatever way is possible. Whatever you can tell us will help, and we will also work to help you find peace, and rest."
The elf also finally gives in and takes out a chapbook and writes notes: floating above...incorporeal...can hurt material creatures...black blade...black soul.... She concentrates hard on seeing what she remember about any such creature.
"Did you see his face Kilder? Can you describe him to us? Please, help us help you." Azuk'ai, growing eager at the comunion kneels down besides Ayden and looks directly into his/her eyes.
Kilder's voice grows fainter by the second. "He whispered his name to me. He said he wanted me to know who killed me. 'Kalkaroth,' he whispered in my ear. 'Kalkaroth is the last thing you will hear before the grave.' I wanted to beg, to ask him to spare me, but I couldn't speak. He cut me with the knife, across the throat. He enjoyed my suffering. He enjoyed watching me... Die. I can't be dead... I'm getting married soon... Am I... Dead? I can't..." Her voice trails away to nothing. With a gasp, Aydan starts breathing again. He shudders on the floor, shaken by the horror of the experience.
The knife may be the projection of the ghostly killer's own. It is likely not the physical version, as the ghost would be unable to handle it normally.
Sitting back on the balls off his feet Azuk'ai sighs and stares into space for a bit, coming to he places a hand on Ayden's shoulder to reasure him. "Calm, Ayden. It is done. The seance was a success, catch you breath friend. Calm down. She spoke through you Aydan, do you remember any of it?" he says as calmly as he can, helping Aydan into a sitting postition he helps him plac ehis head between his knees.
When Aydan is breathing normally Azuk'ai looks up at the rest of the crew. "By her description the killer is a ghost. I am certain. It is reenacting murders done in it's real life and the dagger is it's link to this world. Destroy the dagger, destroy the ghost. That is what we must do. Where is the Sheriff? He will have information regarding the killer in his former life, maybee the knife is in his custody."