Tanner walks over to Duron's cell, wanting to put a little distance from his own. "All right, I am all for finding the Ghost, but what do we do when we find it? That was really the Professor's gig."
Tanner's head suddenly snaps up. "The Professor's notebook! It's full of that kind of stuff, he wrote everything down. When he died...what did they?...where would it be now? Did they bury it with him?" He blushes a little, thinking on how he missed his boss and friend's funeral and knows none of these details.
With an awkward glance to Run, Aydan shakes his head. 'The journal is lost to us now.'
Dozens...
'Duron, can you suggest anything to help us face these ghosts? I think fetching some holy water may be an idea, but would it work on the ghostly undead?'
Melk's feeling a little crowded in the small holding of the Sheriff's office, he nods - his small friendly smile - and walks just outside. The air has a frozen quality in spite of the relatively mild conditions. Curiously he watches other passers-by, waving if one takes note of him.
Duron shakes his head in the negative. "It should work, but I've got as much practical experience in the matter as you do. I will continue to do what research I can."
With a final wave to the Sheriff, Duron, and Wesh, the five acolytes of Professor Lorrimor set out to check the Harrowstone memorial. The jail looms over the city as the walk through it, like an angry and malicious entity staring at them from atop the hill. The villagers aren't much better, staring at them through the fog of the late morning. A few of the men follow them a bit, carrying some pitchforks and tools. They break away as the exit town, apparently satisfied.
They make it to the memorial that stands on the southern river bank just outside town. The figure of the Warden stands tall, likely as brave and noble as he was in life. They peer at the names on the plaque, silently reading them. Two are covered in blood as if crossed out, though one appears dried. The newer one, almost still dripping, is that of Vanko Vai.
'Vanko Vai. Is it just blood the killer wants? Or do these names have connections to the victims?' Aydan muses to himself, trying to get a look at the first obscured name.
'We might yet be able to ambush the little bastard. And I'd rather not face him in the Harrowstone. Though we'll doubtless have to go there eventually.'
"You think ther's a connection to specific people in Ravengro, not just that he's attacking young women?" Azuk'ai asks as he bends down and reads the names.
"That seems to fit with the going hypothesis agreed upon by those researching the matter at the jailhouse." Run nods at Aydan and Azuk'ai. "Though I know too little about the connections between people here in town, perhaps Kilder had some connection to this Vai, or if not, then her boyfriend? Although on reflection a mere romantic coupling seems too tenuous a connection to have any strength in the astral plane. I'd bet on Kilder herself being the link."
The alchemist takes out her magnifying glass and bends down to look closely at the blood, trying to eek whatever last possible hints she can from it and the ground nearby, though she is perhaps a bit too focused on the trees to note the forest in which she stands.
A low voice from behind the group interrupts. "Sarianna was a Vai...Sarianna Vai."
When all eyes turn to him, he realizes he had been talking out loud. "Sarianna was a Vai. If the ghost wants family blood, was this Kilder related to the first name on that monument, and more importantly, what is the next name?"
Azuk'ai glance sback at Tanner, "Really?" he says, looking hopefull at the connection. His brow furrows and a look of disapointment creeps across his features. "No. The first victim was a Sothale, Kilder Sothale and the first name crossed over is Ohlin, Cloward Ohlin." he says with a sigh. Frowning again he rakes his braine for possible connections. "A bastard maybee? Or a love-child?" he says hopefully.
"If we can find the connection between the monolith and the victims, we might actuallt prevent another murder by giving warning to the intended victims. Comon people, think!"
Melk's stony face is caught up with the monument, he keeps glancing up and down its features. The Warden of Harrowstone. The Warden. At length he studies the many names. "Are these names crossed out before or after the killing? If the names honor the wardens who guarded the Harrowstone, then maybe the crossed names were of warden ghosts that still guarded it."
"Right! Wardens!" Azuk'ai snaps his fingers and points at Melk as his insight sparks a thought in his head. "Sheriff Caeller is sure to know the decendents of the wardens. We can just tell him to gather up their decendants and keep guard on 'em, never let 'em be alone and such. That should halt the killing at least." Azuk'ai looks expectantly at the group. "Am I right? Do we agree? Com'on let's get back and tell the sheriff before we go into Harrowstone."
'Great plan. We should gaurd them tonight aswell. That way if the knife attacks anyway, we'll catch him in a place of our choosing, rather than in his preferred haunts,' Aydan nods and smiles to Akuz'ai.
This could work, we need some holy water, and some magic for our weaponry, but this could work. They set off to the Sheriff's, and Aydan has a new spring in his step, eager to set about avenging Kilder's death.
"Yeah." Azuk'ai says following after Ayden. "But let's leave the gathing up to the Sheriff, we need to start exploring that prison. If we haven't found Kalkaroth by this evening I say we go find the gathered and spent the night with them." he rushes out as he hustles back into town.
Noting the size of the Harrowstone in the distance, Melk cautiously nods to Azuk'ai's words: "There is much to that prison. It's certainly bigger than the one in Lepidstadt. Searching through that place will take days; might as well start now."
"I would run on back to let the Sheriff know and save us some daylight. But the sight of me running through town would likely get me lynched. It is amazing how even the littlest things can set a group off when you are a stranger,..haha..and with things the way they are, I do not want to push it." His small laugh was a little self conscious and forced, as if trying to make light of earlier harrowing events.
"Yeah, you better stay with us. At least the sheriff deputized us, let's hope the badges are enough to steer off the mob." Azuk'ai mutters as he gives the townsfolk shy glances, wondering if, or when, theyr going to jump them.
The group hustles back to the Sheriff's, busting in together to share the news. They breathlessly tell him that the victims are possibly connected to the guards, at which point his face falls. "That's not good. Half the town is descended from the Harrowstone guards. Today's young generation, the one just coming of age, is made up mostly of the grandchildren of the brave men who died at the Harrowstone. I can get an exact list from the town hall. Don't worry about that. You all just get to the Prison and see if you can do something about it."
Aydan nods grimly and heads off once again. 'To the church, we'll get as much holy water as we can and do some snactifying of our own in the old ruin,' his grin is vicious as he speaks.
He strides through town, his face a thundercloud, not willing to be slowed down, and makes his way quickly towards the Temple of Pharasma. Once there he knocks ont he temple door and if he finds it open walks in, calling. 'Father Grimburrow. Your aid is required. We're set to do the Lady of Graves' work today. We need holy water.'
"Good Father, if you please," Melk shadows Aydan most of the way, but he does stick out his head when he addresses the priest: "In Lepidstadt the unruhige - restless - spirits rarely affected the normal world, and we in turn had little effect on them. But here we may have to deal with such beings a lot, could you help in some way? Perhaps a blessing that let's us battle on more even terms."
"Kilder gave us the identity of the killer father, Kalkaroth the Slicer's spirit roams free. We aim to put to permanent rest, any aid will be greatly appreciated. We have a few arrows that will affect his ghost but our arsenal is severly limited as it stands." Azuk'ai adds to the father.
Run gathers what holy water they already have, and keeps a healthy distance from Aydan as he goes to retrieve more. Having been given the sourpuss treatment by Father Grimburrow earlier, the alchemist doesn't want to mess with Aydan's chances of procuring more supplies.
She takes out her abacus and fiddles with it, oblivious to the fact that the comforting clacking of the beads is ringing against the cobbles and walls, negating her efforts and being unobtrusive.
Father Grimburrow is in the middle of his morning ritual prayers when they arrive. He eyes Tanner with particular suspicion, meaning word of Sarianna's murder has likely reached him already. He makes the spiral sign of Pharasma before standing. "I see you've added another member to your group. Judging by his actions so far in this town, I can't say I would be surprised to learn that he is another wayward student of the late Professor."
He moves slowly over to a font of water, holding his hands out over it. "Lady Pharasma, grant this water as the vessel for your holiness. May it burn that which you hate and bless that which you love." He dips the fingers of his right hand in the water, making the spiral again with a silent prayer on his lips. "You can have the water, but do not waste its blessing."
Stinging a little from the rebuke, Tanner steps back from the group, allowing them to collect the holy water. He turns away and sees the Elf girl lingering back also, It was Run right?.
Not sure she even notices him, he approaches and whispers while she flips beads back and forth, "Hey Run, <click> is he <click> always <click> such a <CLACK>" He doesn't quite finish and catches himself as he hears his voice echoing softly off the back wall, hopefully away from the water font.
'Thank you father. We'll but it to good use,' Aydan nods, making an effort not smile.
He moves forwards and looks into the font. 'Run, do oyu have any vials and such that we can spare. Lets load up on these shall we?' Aydan looks back over his shoulder at the elf. This time he can't smother his smile, its a furious smile though, all victory and impending vengeance.
Melk takes two additional vials . "Let's have a look then," he says, quietly, almost to himself.
Stepping up Azuk'ai offers up his waterskin. "Could we use this? We could even use it to squirt the water. Sounds easyer that breaking bottles endlessly."
Tanner steps up to offer his waterskin too. "That makes some sense there. How do you break a bottle on a ghost? But if you spray it, and this is Godly water, it might work as it passes through.....That would have been a good experiment for the Professor..does the water affect the dead as the sealed bottle is passed through a ghost? I guess we are destined to find out.
He touches the silver flask at his hip, "Well, I would offer this too, but it is a little nice to be lobbing about the prison, and well, it is mostly full at the moment." He looks about and sees Father Grimburrow still puttering around the church, occasionally glancing their way. Sadly he takes his hand off his flask.
As the others gather, the emerald-haired alchemist stows her abacus and pulls her backpack off her back. "Tanner! Hello. I didn't see you there. How are you? Have you been standing there long? No need to use your flask, I would imagine residual alcohol -- even if only in the form of fumes -- would have a significant effect on consecrated liquids. Here, Aydan; I have plenty more vials if needed." She hands a couple more to the human warrior.
Run frowns at Azuk'ai's question. "As I understand it, the holy water would not be used as a splash weapon so much as a tool for rendering a ghost's places of power, or in this case a sigil, an item of power; the knife...sterile, after a fashion. Could also prove useful against more corporeal foes."
"Some of my chymicals can be effective against spirits, so there's no reason holy water couldn't be, as well. Hmmm..."
Run consults a small tome from her backpack, nodding and murmuring to herself as she does so. "Splashing is definitely the way to go. So even the vials need to be unstoppered and only the contents launched forth. Well. If nothing else at least that might save me a chunk of gold on new glassware." She smiles cheerily at everyone. "Azuk'ai's squirting idea has merit, even if just for the added distance it'll get us, hopefully along with some increased accuracy, who knows."
Melk seems to get into what he considers the spirit of things: "Ich - uhm - could we boil it too? Holy vapors? They could fill the room. And I could ask Miss Kendra for some tea leaves..." His voice gets quickly smaller when he feels Father Grimburrow's withering stare at the idea of steeping a cup of tea with his holy water.
With their holy water collected and a plan in mind, the group rather reluctantly exits the church. The walk from the Pharasman temple to the hill doesn't take long, as it is hardly a few miles. The Harrowstone Prison grows larger and larger, sitting atop the hill to the south of Ravengro. It is all the more terrible by the light of day, its shattered remnants starkly visible. The group stands at the base of the hill, staring upwards at the ruins.
The stark, sagging roof of the central structure is visible behind its crumbling walls. The walls were once formidable, rising twenty feet high, but now crumble in disrepair. The road leading up to the prison is overgrown with weeds, snaking around the base of the hill and around the southern slope of the barren hill. The group quietly follows the old trail until they reach the front gate of the prison grounds. A wrought-iron arch rises over the entrance, reading 'HARROWSTONE PRISON' in rusted letters. The gate itself, set between a pair of stone guard towers, hangs negligently open; it creaks softly and menacingly as the breeze blows it back and forth. The five adventurers push open the gate warily, making their way to see the main prison ground.
The grounds are dominated by the main structure of the prison, a large two-story building that looms in the center of the ground. Ivy and moss cling tenaciously to the walls, while above the wooden shingles of the roof are often missing entirely, exposing the wooden rafters of the second floor to the sky. The walls are scorched in places, a clear sign of the fire that ravaged the prison decades ago. A number of stone gargoyles perch on the ledges, their silent eyes watching the group in the courtyard. The building has only a few narrow windows, blocked by rusty iron bars. The doors hang askew, revealing a glimpse of the darkened interior. Large stone balconies flank both sides of the structure, though the eastern balcony is partially crumbling into a dark pool of water.
The pool covers nearly half the grounds, its dark and muddy waters sitting still and stagnant. Sections of the ruined southeast wall protrude from the water. It is clearly not part of the original grounds, but likely the result of a sinkhole of some sort. Thick tangles of reeds and cattails have overtaken most of the banks of the stagnant pond.
A small brick house sits in the southwest side of the grounds. Its roof sags ominously, while its door stands open and sways in the wind. It is most likely the house of the prison warden, set apart from the main building so that the warden can still live on the grounds but apart from the prisoners.
Slowly edging forward Azuk'ai unconciously pulls his bow, feeling better with it in his hands. "There, the wardens home. Should we start there or look for an office?" he says nodding to the building set appart.
"That sounds good to me. It's probably too much to hope that we might find maps or journals or anything like that, but it seems smarter to check there before barging into the prison. If anything of use were to be located, the odds are it'll be there first, and in a guard-house or station room in the prison proper second."
The elf turns to Melk. "Melk? What do you think? Did the Warden at Lepistadt Prison keep any sort of good info in his house? Things about the prisoners or schematics or that sort of thing?" Run speaks gently, for even though Melk has thus far proved remarkably forthcoming about his past, she wishes not to tread too heavily on his memories.
Aydan shivers as he passes under the gates. Like the gates of hell those. How many dark souls burned within? How haunted is this accuresed place? He keeps his peice as the others talk, drawing he symbol of Pharasma over his chest, staring around the grounds. A grim place to die, I don't want to join the ghosts here.
He felt the fear tug at him, leaning his legs, twitching at him to turn and flee, but the girls last thoughts were stronger in him. Her last moments, her hopes, her dreams, extinguished now. The Lady of Graves is an arbiter, but not righteous. No justice would ahve a mortal hand. You'll meet the Lady soon Kalkaroth. I swear it by my sword.
Face stern now he turns to the others. 'Good plans. Lets go have a look. I want to be as ready as we can, don't want any accidents or mishaps. I've had enough of them, and lost one friend too many, looking at Tanner he thought. That young man has a passing likeness... Another reminder of my failures. Noone dies on my watch today.
Aydan nods to his friends and heads off to the cottage, his greatsword drawn and eyes wary of danger.
Tanner's feet felt heavy going up the trail. He could see the prison's affect on his companions. He could feel the palpable dread this place radiated, but that is not what made this trip difficult. Professor Lorimer died up here alone.Was he trying to put this ghost to rest too? Why couldn't he wait? Any fear he might have right now was dwarfed by his respect for the Professor, He did come up here alone...get a grip!
Tanner unconsciously twists and turns his walking stick in his hands, trying to find the best most comfortable hold if he needed to swing it.
The warden's house seems a good start. Bite off a good chunk before diving in to the bigger complex." His eye is the drawn to the black pool and immediately regrets his words. But his growing sense of guilt triggers a remembered conversation.
"Do any of you know where the Professor died up here? We may have more to worry about then this Slicer, because when I thought the Professor was killed by this ghost, the Sheriff said no, and that he was working with Duron on that case. Do any of you know what he meant by that? Did something else up here kill him?" His voice does not hold any fear of this unknown, more of a curiosity.
"I can't recall." Azuk'ai answers Tanner, finding the sound of conversation comforting in this ominous place. "I don't think we asked."
"Come on, let's check the wardes house first." he says and starts aproching the lonely house at the south-west side.
With Azuk'ai leading the way, the group slowly makes their way to the small house. Azuk'ai pushes the door open with a creak, peering inside. While the house looks to be picked clean of any valuables, it was likely a nice home once upon a time. A table with two chairs, long unused, sits in the front room. A bookshelf sits on its side, the contents dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Run bends down to inspect them, looking for any relevant tomes, but they seem to be hardly more than fictional accounts of heroic adventures rather than practical information about running the prison.
Melk nods, a smile prominent - and likely real - on his face, "Va- the Warden often took paperwork home. He was stern, but always said that there's more to prisoners than just people that need to be locked up. But this is not necessarily true for all wardens and guards. Pettroli used to be quite different, more than once he said what happens in prison, stays in prison. I never understood that, because the Warden would often have a strange expression afterwards."
"Sounds like a real charmer." Azuk'ai comments to Melk as he gingerly steps over the threshold, watching carefully where he steps, eyeing the walls and ceiling nervously. "See anything Run?"
Aydan walks in and picks up one of the books, perusing its pages, though the amusing find does not elicit a smile on his serious face. I must stay focused. I'm going to drown that bastard's spirit in the Lady's blessing. 'Aye, good idea Akuz'ai, have a proper look around. Might be something hidden or such.'
Aydan decides to do some searching of his own, and begins to look and nvestigate around.
Tanner steps in to the house. While others go to the bookcase, he pauses and looks at the cracked plaster in the walls. One prominent crack runs from above a window, to a door frame, then up to a ceiling beam . This beam shows signs of undo stress of warping and subsequent sagging.
"Guys....don't move anything of substance. This house is still standing more by accident then any reliability of craftsmanship. Infact, I think we should get out while we can...carefully." He slowly backs toward the door while saying this.
The group scans the room for useful items, but it largely seems just a simple house. What's more, Tanner's warning is true enough. The entire house creaks as they walk across the wooden floor. The house may fall or collapse entirely if they spent too much longer inside.
Uncommonly fast, for Melk, he raises, "Ich... think we should collapse the house on purpose then." He cautiously eyes the structure, "It'll help... to keep others safe. If there are mean spirits here that can act on this world, this could be a death trap for innocents."
Looking from Tanner to the ceiling Azuk'ai carefully puts down the book he was examening and slowly starts retracing his steps, "Yeah, come on guys. Let's get out while the going is good."
'Let's not be hasty Melk. We can a;ways come back, and there are not many innocents come here. We're probably the only visitors in years. We wouldn't even be in this accursed place ourselves if we didn't have very pressing business,' Aydan walks out of the hut on careful feet, try to apply as little weight as he can to the creaking floor. When he gets outside he turns to his freinds and says 'I reckon that that could over sinkhole of its own. I'm not sure its a good idea to open up more ways into the earth under Harrowstone. Not for now.'
Melk clouds over a bit, his tone of voice has a worrisome quality, "The good Professor died somewhere in here. From what we were told, it was something heavy that fell on him. Which makes sense to me, his... defenses would not be overcome easily by spirits."
The warden's house creaks and grumbles dangerously as they exit. It does not collapse, though it looks like a strong wind might bring the structure down. The group is certainly happy not to be inside if that is to happen. The five set out to look for the site of the Professor's death, both to seek out some clue as to its nature and to avoid actually entering the Harrowstone. The prison itself makes the group feel as if they are being watched by prisoners jealous of their freedom, though no one has gazed out of those windows in many years.
It is Aydan who finds the scene of the Professor's death. A fallen gargoyle lays smashed into many pieces a few feet from the southern foundation, the faintest trace of a bloodstain on them. This is the site that their mentor, Professor Petros Lorrimor, esteemed scholar and friend, was killed.
"uhm... Run. I mean, don't run, you Run," a bit frustrated at his inability to clearly communicate, he tugs on Run's sleeve. Pointing to the runes he adds, "Do these mean something to you?"
While Run and the others investigate the symbols, Melk takes a look around to see if he can find any other tracks or traces that can help. From where did the gargoyle fall? Did someone push it? Who found the body? Why were they looking in the first place?