Aydan looks around the site, going down on one knee. I'm sorry for your loss my friend. I'll do what I can to see your soul freed to the afterlife.
Then Aydan looks up the building to see if he can notice where the gargoyle was displaced from.
"Th-thanks, Melk." Clearly shaken by what they are seeing, especially so soon after the funeral, the gangly alchemist wipes at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She gives a short sniff. "...I'm not completely sure...what these are. Let me give a closer look."
Tremendously thankful for the distraction from being so close to the scene of the Professor's death, Runyon kneels down, heedless of mud or dirt or dust but paying close attention to make sure she doesn't further smudge or obscure the runes, and begins checking them against any kinds of symbols or arcane tongues she can recall, occasionally cross-checking against scribbled notes in a battered notebook she's clearly been using for some long while.
Tanner scans the roof line with Ayden. "Gargoyles are meant to ward off evil...I mean spiritually. Functionally they are built to convey water out and way from a building's foundation." The comment is soft and matter of fact, as if echoing a lesson he had learned years before.
"It is odd how one's spirit can repeatedly be crushed, but we find the way to somehow move on, but our physical forms can be so fragile, despite those who's spirit shown brightest. "
He keeps his face upward, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.
The runes appear written in some ancient language, one that teems with malice just from the jagged edges of the characters. While their literal meaning is lost on Runyon, their layout is consistent with a number of binding rituals. The runes are most likely a binding circle, calling forth whatever name is written in the runes. A bit of power lingers in the runes, the unmistakable taint of necromancy. These runes probably bound a spirit, one connected to the Harrowstone.
With Tanner's eyes thrown upwards, he notices a strange inconsistency. The gargoyles are perched at uniform distances from each other, except for a few that have fallen over the years. However, there is no ledge for this one to have fallen off. It was clearly not located above this spot, but rather moved to it from another. It may have been used to conceal the murder or the runes. Either way, the killer must have been covering his or her tracks.
Tanner sidles along side Aydan while both are looking up. "Uoh. Do you see Ayden? Look, count the gargoyles. They are at regular intervals..but for this one to have fallen here...there is no place for it to have come from. That shelf there did not hold a gargoyle of this size...someone moved this here." He gives a gargoyle fragment a shove with his foot. "Likely, after the Professor was killed. This is not the murder weapon...is that?" And he points his boot to where Run is squatting by the runes?
'I see it now, aye. And it worries me. There may be more than spirits waiting for us here. Or else the spirits grow strong in their mastery of this place...' Aydan shudders and draws the Lady's sign.
'Run, do you see anything that might illuminate how our old friend Petros came to his unfortunate end?' Aydan turns to look at the elven women as she inspects the ruins, somewaht discomfited by Tanner. He seems familiar, though he is a stranger. Old Ustalavic ways tell me to distrust a stranger, most of all one who seems a friend.
Lost in his own thoughts Azuk'ai shows little sign of beeing present, he perks up though at Tanners observations. Looking up he frowns as he counts the gargoyls, kneels to inspect the writings, and spits after tracing a finger through the writings to sniff. "But the gargoyle is smashed. It must have fallen a great distance. If none are missing, then where did this one come from?" he wonders.
"Some have fallen...as this one likely did, just not from directly above here. Someone or thing found this on the grounds smashed and moved it here."
'Or mayhaps something, or force moved it from further afield. It could well have dropped on our late friend, despite it not being originally placed above him. Poltergeists and mighty spirits can move things even strong men may struggle with,' Aydan says, clearly troubled by either possibility.
'We can't know until we find out more information. And for that, I fear we must go inside.'
Run looks up at Aydan's question, and replies; "Not...exactly. Something was bound here but I don't know what. The air of necromancy lingering about the runes and the binding pattern lead me to guess some spirit was tied here, either to this very spot or this area in general. Whether or not this had anything to do with Petros' death, though...I cannot say I have any conclusive evidence."
The elf packs her books quickly back up as she speaks, then stands and re-shoulders her pack. "What's the story with the gargoyle? Was that the...uh...murder...uh...weapon?" She looks pained by the thought of her old friend being done in in such a way.
Melk studies the fragments of the gargoyle, looking for tell-tale signs that suggest that it shattered here - rather than elsewhere. Fine shrapnel and a powdery residue.
Sighing Azuk'ai traces the sign of Pharasma over the spot of Petros's death. "Rest easy my friend. We'll put this right, I swear." he says in short prayer. Looking bakc up he glances to either side before hefting his bow. "Come on guys." he says softly, the leather grip of his bow creaking under his grip. "We're burning daylight."
Azuk'ai and Melk eye the gargoyle, looking it over with a critical eye. The powder and shrapnel suggest that it was smashed here, but Melk silently points to the jagged, crushed edges of the top of the gargoyle. It was smashed, but not by a fall. The broken masonry has a pattern, as if some sort of tool or weapon was used to smash it, not a magical force or mere gravity. Whoever killed Petros took pains to try to make it seem like an accident, covering up the runes in the process.
Having studied the Professor's handwiting in his notes in the alchemical treatise she borrowed from the study, Run tries to tell if the runes are written in the same hand. It is difficult to tell, as runes are different than handwriting, but there are enough dissimilarities that it is probably different. His handwriting is cramped, as if trying to squeeze the maximum knowledge from each word, while the runes have almost a malicious edge to their jagged characters. She cannot imagine him writing them, though he could likely translate them with ease.
"Gentlemen." Run speaks clearly to get everyone's attention, but does not dilly-dally. She, like Azuk'ai, is eager to get going. She talks as she walks. "I'm quite certain those runes back there were not written by our departed friend, the professor. I confess I don't know what that means, exactly, though I could hazard a number of guesses, none of which are pleasant. I suppose at best the presence of those runes could simply have been a coincidence, but...given what I know of this place, and what I've experienced just in the last couple days, that feels like too much to hope for. "
She gives a small shudder. "Anyway, those runes seem almost to bear their own ill intent towards the reader. Granted runes are not the same as handwriting, but still; I'm as certain of anything Petros didn't make those."
Melk cocks his head, ponderously considering what Run just told them. His benign features show the slightest hint of strain as he pieces together his thoughts, then: "Is there a way we can determine if the good Professor stumbled upon this trap, or whether he was investigating the runes?" He points to the gargoyle, "This is not what killed Petrus, someone covered up a murder, or covered up the way of his death to hide something else."
'Ultimately...' Aydan says aloud, slowly, as if regretting the words leaving his mouth.
'We have to go inside. I get the feeling what answers there are can be found in there. And all of this standing out here won't get us anywhere. Better to make the cut quick and clean my ma used to say,' Aydan tries a feeble smile, but it seems sickly on his face, still strained from his possession.
'Shall we intrepidly go within?'
Melk, apparently impassively, stares at the prison proper. "Ich... it is not like we're in a rush, but now is timely."
"Yeah, sombody definately smashed up the gargoyle. See here.. and here.." Azuk'ai points to points of impact on the gargoyle. "That ain't from no fall. Sombody definately didn't want people to know what really hapened here." he agrees with Melk. Suddenly his eyes glaze over and a shudder passes through his body, "Hey uhm.. guys? Do you remember the guy who led the attack on Kendra on the night of the professors funeral? The guy who tried to make off with his journal? The guy who turned one of the attackers into a zombie.." he emphasises the last words, giving the others a meaningfull look. "You think this fits his profile?"
Kendra?..Kendra?..the Professor talked of a Kendra..His daughter?
"Kendra is the Professor's daughter, right? She was attacked as well as the Professor? Is she alright?"
...zombies? Tanner takes off his backpack and opens it up. He pulls out a very large machete in its sheath. He closes his pack and belts the blade to his hip.
The blade is nice, but hard used. Obviously Sargavan by the animal designs carved into the leather sheath. The hilt is inlaid with the initials 'A I'. "I have only used this on vegetation, but I am willing to try it on zombies if it comes to that."
"Tanner, we..." Run regards the man for a moment as the group heads for the prison. After a pause, she seems to come to a decision. She pulls out her abacus and fiddles madly with it while she speaks; "Tanner we came under attack our first night here. All of us were dealing with our grief when cultists burst in and attempted to steal the professor's journal and intimidate -- or kill -- all of us, including Kendra. Some of us were hurt, quite badly. It was during this skirmish that one of the cultists I had killed was resurrected before my very eyes as some kind of zombie...thing. It grabbed the notebook and ran into the night, heedlessly shattering its way through a giant window. Not wanting to see this knowledge fall into the wrong hands, I...I threw one of my bombs at the creature, hoping merely to take its legs out so I could retrieve the book. Unfortunately my aim was too good, and I blew them both -- the undead and the journal -- to smithereens. This attack shook us all quite a bit, and was followed immediately by a night of haunting. We have all been under constant assault. Us, Kendra, anyone associated with the Professor."
The awkwardly tall and thin scientist stares hard into Tanner's eyes. "...anyone."
'And these assaults won't end until we lay this matter to rest.'
Aydan says it with more conviction this time. 'We need to go in. and see what there is to see. We need light, and holy water at the ready, but its best to have steel ready too for more mundane problems. This is going to be dangerous, this is going to be deadly. But if we stick together and keep our wits about us we'll all make it back out again. And I hope, and pray, that we'll be done with our business here and only have to deal with Kalkaroth within. Best prepare for worse though. So, are we going? Do you all need more time or should we just go in and get this over with, what do you say my friends?'
Aydan grips the handle of his own scribed greatsword as he talks, standing straighter, with a grim determination stealing over his face.
With no one objecting, Aydan leads the group to the front door of the Harrowstone Prison. They stand in front of the facade for a moment, looking at the sagging wooden balcony that used to stand over the entrance. This was once a place of beauty despite its purpose, the sign of an architectural renaissance in Ustalav during its construction. The front door, a heavy and sturdy looking wooden portal, leans open. The inside of the foyer is surprisingly dark, as if the light from outside is too frightened to fully illuminate the room.
The foyer was once a wide hall flanked by a pair of waiting rooms, but it now lies in ruins. The marble on the floor is cracked and stained with age. With little left to hold up the ceiling, the wooden beams above sag dramatically. Aydan leads the way, hesitatingly only momentarily before opening the large pair of oaken doors leading into the Harrowstone's interior.
The smell of smoke lingers on the air, even after all these years. As the door opens, they see the room behind it. Streaks of mold stain the walls, while the floor below is a thick, gray carpet of fungal growth. Sturdy wooden doors beckon from each side of the room: a small door to the west, a double door to the north, and two separate doors to the east. The smell of smoke grows strangely stronger, and heat suddenly warms the room to an uncomfortable level.
Aydan
Azuk'ai
Melk
Runyon
Tanner
Aydan grimaces at the smell and sight of the mold. What else did I expect? This place is death and decay. I hope we can wrap this up fast.
'Well there it is. The mighty Harrowstone, not so scary after all?' Aydan tries a smile, but again it is wan and falls quickly from his face when it is not returned immediately.
'Can someone conjure up a light of some sort? Or shall we find something to work as a torch?'
Completely unprepared for the sudden gust of heat, Melk's churning thought processes are still busy reaching a vocal conclusion: "Ich... think we should also remember that other than investigating the good Professor, we're here to stop a spirit murderer."
Run puts her abacus away and nervously fingers something inside her coat, under her vest. "Do you all see it? Do you feel it? The fire. The incorporeal energy, the ghosts. They are reliving the fire, their moment of demise, forever."
She looks around, her leaf-green eyes enormous. "...forever..."
Tanner stands at the double doors and pauses. The architecture is quite grand, or was grand. Once a dramatic entrance, now it just looks...hungry? He pulls out his silver flask and takes a good swig. Replacing it, he steps into the darkness, his grip a bit clammy on his walking stick.
At Run's words he smells the smoke and feels the heat. Ghost Fire?...How does one fight ghost fire?
'Run, what do you mean? Can you sense any spirits? Where are they!?' Aydan waits until another member of the party lights up a sunrod before steping over thr threshold gingerly. The heat, by the gods thats not right.
'We'll find them. We'll put them all to rest!'
Melk cracks a sunrod, a bit overly cautious in case it flares up too much, but when the bright light gushes from it he appears genuinely pleased. Though that might just be a trick of the light and the rictus of his face.
"I don't yet see any spirits, Aydan, and am thankful for it; I just know this is where the heat and smell of smoke is coming from. We've nothing to fear at the moment, but I would not be surprised if this is but a taste of what's to come. Perpetual fire, perpetual terror and death here at the doors of Harrowstone. But hopefully answers within, among the lingering spirits."
Run also takes out a sunrod and cracks it, to grant a little more light to her human companions.
Azuk'ai hesitates behind Ayden, relucant to take the lead with his bow in hand, nevertheless he leans over the threshold and glances into every corner, staring hard at anything even suspect of beeing capable of movement.
"Figment or not, it's hot." he says as he works his collar with his fingers, sweat creasing his brow. Taking out a magical arrow he nocks it and steps over the threshold.
For a moment, it is quiet in the Harrowstone. Not even the living seem to breathe or move. The silence is broken as the four doors start to shake. It is a soft rumble at first, subtly trembling with the entry of the living into a realm of the undead. The doors shake violently and loudly as a screech grows from deep within the cursed place. Suddenly, all four doors slam open violently, a gout of flame rushing out to engulf the adventurers.
Along with the conflagration, a terrible scream comes from within. It is a collection of screams and howls, the dying horror of a fiery death. The screams of terror shakes each of them to the core, a shaking wave of terror and fear. Behind them, the front door slams loudly with a chilling finality.
Distracted by the ghostly wails and moans and the terror of their incorporeal misery, the normally-quick Run is too slow to dodge and screams in pain as the magic flames blast her skinny body. She falls immediately to the ground, her face a mass of blisters and her hair fried to a crisp. She gasps horribly as the fire sucks the air out of her lungs. In a desperate bid to stay conscious she flails inside her coat for the extract she brewed this morning. Her hands are too damaged to pull the cork so she gnaws at it with her teeth, chewing it off and greedily swallowing the potion, lying on her back as the arcane power of her alchemy restores her body, though she remains sore and covered in small blisters and peeled skin, an unpleasant sight.
"Well this will make me even more popular in town." she says in a rare display of terse sarcasm, though she only mutters it under her breath. The elf then looks around, trying to take stock of things and fighting to remain calm.
Tanner senses the heat build up and then sees the flare. He dives back only to hit another jet of flame behind him that he did not see. There is burning and pain...He closes his eyes and hears the screaming...but the screams are not his.
Something tried to frighten me just there, it scrabbled at the edge of my mind....Ouwww! Something is trying to kill me if you hadn't noticed.....Physical pain you can handle, we are here to end the fear......This is some bad pain...I am working on that, have no fear...
Tanner opens his eyes. It is as he feared, burns on his arms and torso. His walking stick still sprouting a little flame.
As Melk stares into the bright intensity of the sunrod, it suddenly appears to expand and he's engulfed in vicious flames! In shock he drops the rod, his eyes uncommonly wide with fright. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Ich... ich... want to go home." He turns to the front door, but finds himself unable to leave. "Was?!" He looks to Aydan, uncomprehending.
As Melk stares into the bright intensity of the sunrod, it suddenly appears to expand and he's engulfed in vicious flames!
Twirling in place as the front door slams shut Azuk'ai stops midstride as the other four doors slam open. Pulling back on his bow he fervently looks for a target and waits patiently as the glow gets brighter, too patiently. Seeing the flames rushing toward him he turns on the spot to head in the other direction only to catch the flame coming from that direction full in his face, reeling from the burns Azuk'ai lets out an almost animalistic scream of rage himself, rivaling that of the haunted prison. Bearing his teeth in a snarl his pointed ears flatten against his skull and a deep-red fire burns in his eyes as he looks for his assailant.
Aydan relies on his Pathfinder training and ducks and rolls quickly to the side, patting out flames immediately, he manages to avoid the worst of it, while still suffering a nasty burn on his left side.
The scream unsettles him more, though he manages to squash the worst of his instincts, the horror of the sudden attack and the aginised scream leave his knees weak and heart pounding rapidly in his chest, the fear barely kept from grabbing hold of him and making him panic.
He immediately turns and tries to pull at the door, but finds them sealed and immovable, eyes wide and fearing more fire he shouts loud enough to be heard outside 'Quick, through the west door in case that happens again.' Aydan runs forwards and barrels through the door to the west.
Aydan stumbles into the room, shadowy illumination coming from small windows on the wall. As befits a prison, they have metal bars over them. The long hallway has an institutional feel, as if it is an office rather than an area for housing prisoners. There are several small doors leading to what might be offices, as well as a larger door at the end of the hallway. It takes a turn at the end, making it difficult to tell where it goes.
Melk hurriedly follows Aydan, looking to the experienced man for a sense of guidance and solace from the horrors.
Aydan brushes himself off, grimcaing at the burns and muttering 'That wasn't an auspicious start, whos badly hurt?'
He turns as awaits a reply, looking down the hallway, taking note of the layout and adminstrative cast of the area. Front of the prison, thses must have been the gaurds offices and adminstration area. We could find records and items of use here.
Aydan moves further into the room, cautious now after the dramatic events that occured after their entrance into the building, he examines the nearest door carefully, pushing it open if he finds no immediate danger.
Tanner stumbles out of the room. He skids along the wall and comes to a uneasy stop, still leaning against the wall. Tanner coughs out, "I think I fit that description," Ever so slowly, he starts to slide further down the wall.
Turning to see Tanner leanign heavily against the wall, Aydan turns away fromt he door and hurries over to his companion, he then promptly unstoppers and offers the man his vial of restorative potion, lifting it up to pour the contents down his throat.
Having given Tanner some semblance of assistance, it seems to have little effect. His arms are badly burned from the gout of flame. However, the magical potion at least healed the worst of it. Their newest ally may be able to move about under his own power, but badly needs a cleric or doctor. Unfortunately, the only exit that he knows of is currently being held shut by vengeful spirits. They will have to find another exit before the Harrowstone conjures another spurt of fire and terror.
Aydan pushes the door open after tending to Tanner. It opens with a rusty creak, revealing a small room full of cabinets. Yellowed papers are stuffed, in some semblance of organization, inside them. The whole room is musty, with a thick layer of dust covering everything. This room has likely not seen anyone inside it since the fire.