Melk nods to Thea, his friendliness and reservedness vying for dominance. "Guten Morgen Thea, I am Melk. Of Lepidstadt. Please," he says, "if it's not too much trouble, can you help me? I am trying to find out what history is stored at the town hall. About the... the Harrowstone prison. Bitte?"
Aydan rubs at his eyes and wanders over to Akuz'ai. He stretches as he walks, and thanks Father Grimburrow for all of his help today, grabbing his gear as he goes, and placing books back on shelves or in a neat pile for further investigation.
'Seems the prisoners all died in a fire, so if that place, Harrowstone I mean, I was too long in a book, anyway, if it is haunted we can expect some flame related trouble and remnants. Did you find anything on undead? Or do you know much about what happens to evil men who die in fires?'
'Shall we walk and talk, we had best start making our way to the Restlands, find the kid with his cougar before the get into trouble!' Aydan adds with a smile.
Realizing that though he has read a number of tomes in Elven, he hasn't actually spoken his language since he arrived in Caliphas, Duron starts speaking slowly before regaining his pacing, "Ai ter eidor, air car shael ceri mysti sosti eir shaer moli Ai jhar myji si sylia os tia vaedi. Saesi eisi mai thaern Aelaer ail Ustalov..."
"Ai eis eilai ei valololaes os si eisali eis, syl tia maelolia jhor ail si myr os Tylesarol. Sher shi eisi byr caesi mostia sai porer os tandrolar eirdoloror, shi cali tysti eir si shaendaer os si Vyraerys'm jhar shor eil saerastael sai ailaerondrari si tosestalaer mesylol cor varol. Shi shaesi shylaesol ais o tol cyrn eileirol shos tyr shi os caer?
"I am also a practicioner of the arcane arts, though my specialty lies in the school of Conjuration. But we are not here simply to discuss our magical abilities, we have come at the behest of the Professor's last will and testament to investigate the circumstances surrounding his passing. We were wondering if you might know anything which could be of help?
Azuk'ai rolls his shoulders as they finish for the day. Standing up and stretching he looks to father Harking before responding to Ayden. "How goes father Grimburrow's augury? Does he have any answers?"
"Ghosts are bound to within a certain radius of the haunt, growing weaker the farther they go. I found two suggested ways to put them down. One; To destroy theyr remains. Two; To right whatever wrong that keeps them from rest. Me, I'd like to explore the second option before we go looking for the remains. Maybee we can come back tomorow to search for more clues?" he answers to Ayden.
@Melk Thea sort of stares at Melk, trying to get a bead on him. She seems quite reserved and cool towards him. "The records aren't open to the public. You need one of the magistrates to grant you permission. Sorry." Her reticence is not that of an officious bureaucrat holding power over a helpless citizen, but rather someone who is deeply suspicious.
@Wesh As the teen makes his way towards the Restlands through the outskirts of town, he comes across the Harrowstone memorial on the side of the river that runs through Ravengro. It is a tall statue, almost 25 feet high and covered in moss at the base. Made of stone, it depicts a proud, muscular human male dressed in leather armor and wielding a truncheon. Part of the moss is brushed away on one side of the statue's base, with 25 names chiseled into the stone. The first two names on the list are 'Warden Lyvar Hawkran' and 'Vesorianna Hawkran'. As Wesh glances closer, he notices something disturbing. One of the names, 'Cloward Ohlin', has a red line crossed through it. It is not ink, but rather unmistakeably fresh blood.
@Duron & Runyon Alendru gleefully starts trying to converse in Elvish. His diction is perfect and his vocabulary is expansive. It has a patrician touch, as if he learned from a noble's tutor. "Telatha esu tan hegara. Escatan pillana teraunia cesgausi dau. Thes til ghanoria lindorveia tandralanasi."
@Aydan & Azuk'ai Father Harking shakes his head. "I don't know. Pharasma can be distant at times, but she will give him the information he needs. It may be simply after a certain period of time and in her own way. I'm certain that we will hear as soon as Father Grimburrow finishes."
'Ah. Okay. We should probably wait around for that. I guess. How much time has passed? I got somewhat lost in research.'
Aydan stands slightly awkwardly, having forgotten Father Grimburrow in the flurry of study. He turns back to Akuz'ai. 'Yes, I think it would be best if we return tomorrow, its a pity we can not bring people with other fields of knowledge. To broaden our search.'
"The magistrates?" Melk looks a little disappointed, "Is Professor Lorrimor's legacy not enough?"
Seeing her eyes shut him down, he continues, "Bitte let me find word from a magistrate then. Where can I find one at this time? Perhaps not so far away?"
Run is brought up short. "I...you know...er, wait. Sorry, elvish. Here; E's lean...layma amirilan eloemsilaneel a'ilnyanca ama laaan. Irss...silafa. Ama amama quylaan latyailnelv ameanir Oilaniram Vmesfymmeam, illw ira salaneelaw il anammefca aelalan ameanir nyycanelaanla anirilan anira Tymeoalalaem amilla elelecelaw el, a'nyatyan ira sema fcilsaw Tyaanmela oem eanla enynyymmalnya anirill nymaweanaw ires ameanir eanla malaecyaneel. We aey nleam sema ilfeyan anirela nyycan? Aey laaa, ama oailm anirilan eym syanyilc omealw Tyaanmela' latyemean ela lean ilan malaan, illw ama ameycw laaa ires irilela tyailnya el anira faaelw, oem ilcc eym lailnala."
Azuk'ai nods at both the father and Ayden. "I could do with a bit of air after all this reading. Let's head to the tavern, see if the others are there."
|
Wesh leans in close to the monument, and - after a careful glance around to ensure nobody is watching dips his finger into the blood and sniffs it. Then he reluctantly touches his bloody fingertip to his tongue trying to determine if the blood is human...
Taking careful note of the names - because the talkers will be sure to ask - he heads back via the crow filled tree. As he catches the first glimpse of it and ensures it remains filled with the creepy unnatural behaving birds. Once he sees that remains the case he casts entangle and watches the ensuing frenzy of writhing branches flying feathers and dismayed cawing with an evil grin.
He and Ramon then dash forward and the young druid begins flinging sticks at the birds, "S@*~ting carrion eating ill omened buggers. F~@@in' glare at me, like yer spies. S$%*tin' eat this."
Ramon entertains himself pouncing on a few birds which tumble to the ground and cheerfully maiming them. As the vigor of the branches begins to ebb the two retreat feeling a little better for having vented their frustration and set off to find the rest of the group.
"Oh! Alendru. Another thing. Have you ever investigated the Restlands at all? I noted a number of magical auras around there, which I suppose in and of itself isn't particularly surprising, but I did wonder if you knew of any landmarks, or magical areas that were...well, 'mundane' for lack of a better term. Things everyone already knows about, in other words, and not necessary to investigate further. Also, the northeast crypt; are you aware of any significance held in that particular place of burial?"
@Runyon & Duron Alendru shakes his head at Run's questions, slipping back into Common to match her. "Other than this humble shop and the Professor's house, there should be little magic in Ravengro. The people are agrarian, insular, even superstitious. They trust only what can be done by hard work and labor. As for the crypt, I can't say that I've ever stepped foot in the graveyard, so I do not know."
@Aydan & Azuk'ai Father Grimburrow returns right before they leave. He confers with Father Harking for a moment, then turns to them. "Petros Lorrimor is indeed not accounted for in Pharasma's domain. As with all souls not in their proper rest, the Church expresses its concern and hopes that things are soon put right." He has a rather grim look on his face as he gives the news.
@Melk The clerk looks him up and down, obviously unimpressed. "I don't know. You can check their houses or leave a request here. We have five magistrates on the Council: Vashian Hearthmount, Gharen Muricar, Mirta Straelock, Shanda Faravan, and Gibs Hephenus."
'Damn. I was hoping he was with the Lady. This is grim news indeed. I shall have to inform Kendra this evening. Poor girl, the last thing she needs is her suspicions confirmed. Thank you Father, I will repay you somehow. As for those who did this, all who live must face her judgement.'
Aydan nods respectfully and follows Akuz'ai outside. 'Tell me, my new friend. Where do you yourself hail from?' he asks as he throws on a raincloak.
"Yes, thank you father. We will set this right, on my word I will not leave the professor without rest." Azuk'ai says pasionately at the news, less worried about Kendra than professor Lorrimor himself. Kendra was smart and capable, the professor was helpless. 'This must be set right!'
Stepping outside with Ayden Azuk'ai pulls his hood and haunches his shoulders as they step out into the gloom of afternoon. "I hail from Lepidstadt. Born and raised. You? Azuk'ai says distractedly.
That was a very porly concealed atempt of changing the subject.
'Beeing half-elven is easyer than beeing half-orcish.' he thinks bitterly.
The six amateur adventurers, having tried to collect as much information as possible, regroups at the front gate of the cemetery. The graveyard is surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, tall enough to prevent all but the best climbers from crossing.
The graveyard stretches in front of them, with hundreds of headstones and memorials holding the dead of Ravengro. Their research and exploration took most of the morning. The sun of the early afternoon is warm, though there is a still a chill in the air.
"Gentlemen. I suppose this is an unnecessary suggestion, but nonetheless let me recommend we be armed and ready as soon as we enter this crypt. The fence appears more focused on keeping the dead in than the living out. Given what happened to us last night, I'm inclined to believe this is not entirely due to local superstition."
'I couldn't agree more Run. This place is not a place of all that much Rest I imagine. Did anything discover anything interesting today?' Aydan asks as he draws his sword and moves to open the gates, and let the party in to the sombre graveyard.
Looking up and down the fence Azuk'ai nods at Run's assessment. "Better safe then sorry I suppose." he mutters as he pulls his bow and noks an arrow.
Following after Ayden he gives his report. "I decided to find out more about what we're facing so I looked up haunting. What I found was two ways to end it. First; Destroy the remains of the ghost, thats the only vulnerability I could find. Second; Put right whats causing the haunt." he pauses for dramatic effect, seeing if any reaction is forthcoming.
"Ghost rise becouse somthing is keeping their souls from rest, so we'd first need to gain the identity of the ghost and then figure out whats keeping it from rest before we can even try setting it right."
Azuk'ai hesitates before continuing, unsure how to give the news. "Father Grimburough finished his augury before we left. He eh.. he confirmed our fears regarding Petros. His soul is not with Pharasma. I fear it is his soul that is causing the haunt and frankly I have no taste in destroying his remains. Too me the only real option is to find out why he's not resting."
Melk frowns at Azuk'ai's notion that the Professor is not at rest. "Ich... disagree. I don't think the good Professor is haunting this village. The specter last night said the Professor's soul was held by the whispering tyrant, or something. What haunts here, I think it is something else."
'Melk is right,' Aydan says as he strides forward, looking all around the graveyard as they head towards the Mausoleum.
'Its something else. And my money says its something tied to that damned prison.'
The group carefully and tentatively enters the Restlands, with even the light of day doing little to allay their fears of the graveyard. It is difficult to believe that it has only been a bit more than half a day since they buried Petros in this very cemetery. A glance over in that direction shows that the gravediggers have been quick, packing the earth in tight at his grave. The gravestone is up, a stark granite reminder that the man they all admired is now dead. Their mission in the graveyard is a reminder that he is not at rest.
There is only a single crypt in the northeast corner of the cemetery, near the junction of the paths known as the Eversleep and the Black Path. It is a freestanding granite mausoleum, the roof of which is decorated with a pair of leering gargoyle statues. In the daylight, they are unnerving but the group has little fear that they will awaken and attack. After such a harrowing night, though, there is still a bit of fear. The crypt has a single stone door, a rusty-looking lock securing it from potential graverobbers.
Melk wonders aloud, "Wer would do such a thing?" Catching a questioning glance he points to the lock. "Maybe this is the good Professor's work?"
"Maybee the frakker who attacked us last night?" Azuk'ai muses as he examines the lock. "Come on. Let's see what we can find in here." He says, pushing at the stone door.
The rusty metal hinges creak as the adventurers open the stone door to the crypt. A breath of stale air puffs out from inside, musty with years of isolation. Dust covers the floor, though there is a path of tracks on the door deeper into the crypt. The antechamber appears to be empty other than a pair of statues of female warriors in an eternal vigilance over the tomb. The ground has an ornate circle carved into the floor, lending the crypt a look of intricate impressiveness. As with all crypts in Ustalav, the holy symbol of Pharasma (a spiral of light representative of the soul's path through life and death) is carved into the back of the door. Iron bars block the way deeper into the crypt, though downward-leading stairs are visible behind them. An unbroken lock guards each of the iron-wrought doorways. The stairs disappear into a pool of shadow, obscured by the darkness.
Perception:
Aydan surveys the crypt with practiced ease, his long training in the distant south giving him a keen eye for details in crypts and tombs. His eyes linger only momentarily on the statues. He then says to his friends;
Aydan has spotted something dangerous about the statues and wants to party to retreat to plan.
'Listen. Old Lady Barish said we should find her husbands tomb, and this isn't it. Maybe we should all step back outside and continue our search?' He turns to them with a hard stare, his hand on his scabbard.
'We have no business here.'
Perception
Sence Motive
Stepping into the crypt Azuk'ai looks up at the ceiling, wary of traps, and down the hall past the statues, wary of observers. When Ayden starts talking gibberish he's quick to catch on, although uncertain what the danger could be. He didn't see anything after all. "Alright." he confirms. "Let's go."
To see that Azuk'ai has cought Ayden's warning.
Run's leaf-green eyes are shining and inquisitive as the party enters the tomb, it's clear she is simultaneously thrilled and terrified to be on a crypt dive in such an obviously spirit-infested place as the Restlands.
"What?" Run asks in astonishment at her companions' suggestions, but then her elven eyes latch on to something. "Oh. Er. I...but..." Whatever other skills she may possess, Marilwenn is not gifted in the arts of deception.
With unusual celerity Melk picks up on Aydan's cues, his impassive face a small boon as he says, "Na ja it's not the first time we got bad directions." He proceeds further out, making room for others to follow beyond the sight of whatever is inside the crypt.
Stumbling backwards out of the crypt, Run is clearly stymied and speaks up once the group is outside. "Hmmm...those were Caryatids. They will stay focused on their exact orders and can use no initiative or creative thinking. If their orders are just to protect that door, or place, we could conceivably remain safe if we just don't set off whatever their trigger is to attack. Of course, the trouble is, we've no idea what that is. If you feel it's worth it, I could put together a quick infusion that will give me greater insight into the location of hidden doors. I could down it, go back in and take a quick look to see if there's a specific place to target, and then we could plan from there. What do you all think?"
Grinning ruefully, she adds "I must admit I'm burning with curiosity to find out what's in this secret creche, wherever it is down there."
"Vielleicht - perhaps - there are some tracks or markings left that show specific behavior. If the Professor used this cache, there ought to be some safeguards to keep the cache secure." Melk takes a curious, albeit cautious, look through the entrance to see if he can pick up any signs or clues.
'All I know is I saw them watching us. Nobody said anythign about these guardians, and I can't think of a way get passed them easily. So if our subrerfuge fails, I'm all for a more straightforward traditional approach.'
"The statues? Really? Azuk'ai raises an eybrow questioningly at the news. "I'm all fore a straight forward approch if it's needed but surely there's a way to get past this. Nobody saw anything else?"
"Well... there are these strange runes here. But I have no idea what they mean."
"Hmm...Everyone hang on for a minute or two. There were runes on the floor, and while I have not endeavored to study linguistics yet, or spent much time mastering a plurality of languages, I do have a formula that I believe will prove most efficacious."
The elf begins rapidly pulling things out of her backpack, working furiously to find a few specific reagents and chymicals. After getting the ingredients she needs, she takes an empty beaker from a box filled with such glassware and pours a small, precise measurement from each of her ingredients into this new beaker. Once this is done she stoppers it and shakes it furiously. The smoky, greenish mixture begins to fizz alarmingly under the cork, then settles and slowly turns to a light purple on top, retaining its sickly green color on bottom. After quickly re-packing her things, the alchemist pops the cork on the beaker, releasing a stench like dry paper and moldy wood into the air, then swiftly downs the liquid.
Run makes a terrible wincing face as she swallows the foul-smelling concoction. "Bleaugh." Suddenly she lets out a small gasp as her eyes and skin take on the same smoky green color as the liquid, and her eyes and hair begin to turn violet. "Ahhh. Much better. Let's see what we can see then, shall we?" With this she shoulders her pack and turns back to the door, stepping in only as far as needed to be able to make out the runes and any other writing she can decipher.
"Is it useful in any way?" Melk looks worried about the cemetery for more unexpected surprises.
"Well Melk, it's definitely a clue, though I confess its use in getting past the guardians isn't immediately apparent to me. The runes are in ancient Osiriani, and they translate to 'Once mine, Always yours, Seek and you shall find.' The first association that comes to mind is from last night, the chest in the Professor's study. It had the symbol of the Order of the Palatine Eye on it and I remember reading somewhere that their rituals and beginnings alike come from Osirian Mysticism. So it seems quite possible these runes are related to Palatine rites."
Run looks at the ground, her brows knit. "Once mine…always yours…hmmm…"
"Bahh.. riddles!" Azuk'ai spits out, frowning. "Nothing about this s&~% is straightforward. Once mine? Always yours? It could be anything! His heart and soul? His love? Bah..! Seek and you shall find is the only part that makes any sence! And that can apply anywhere!"
'I beleive the answer may let us bypass the statues without the need to blunt my sword, so I'm all for spending a few minutes to figure it out. I know it can be frustrating Azuk'ai, but its better than taking the risk of activating the defenses, when we don;t even know whats further in,' Aydan nods as he speaks, his mind clearly turning over the phrase in his head. Once mine, always yours. Is it perhaps and emotion, or some concept rather than an object in truth?
He looks around at his companions in the rain, and grey graveyard mud and a small smile lights uo his face. Don't we look a bunch, for hopeful saviors of Ravenegro. I hope someone is a genius at riddles! The less time we spend in the rain the beter.
"Maybe the symbol of the order is enough?" Melk suggests hopefully.
*nods*
"We could certainly retrieve the symbol from that chest, maybe, or bring the chest with us. It was small enough. But that phrase seems significant. Like, like it's code for some common, mundane item. A mirror or some such..."
Melk, Aydan, and Azuk'ai seem utterly baffled by the phrase found by Runyon. They stare at each other, befuddled and confused. Melk continues to smile, though his eyes are wide in confusion. Aydan mumbles to himself, trying to work the words in some strange combination. Azuk'ai just curses quietly, waiting for someone else to figure it out.
Wesh and Duron both appear to be somewhat comfortable with the situation. Wesh does so by not caring, only paying attention to Ramon. Duron tries his best to come to a reasonable solution to the problem, only to be stymied by a nagging feeling that he is forgetting something.
It is the elven girl who finally makes the connection. After running through multiple iterations of code and cipher, she comes to a realization: the Palatine Order of the Esoteric Eye is secret society. Most people would not even notice a pattern if they didn't know to look for it, and fewer people still speak Ancient Osirian outside the Order. It is a simple passcode, written into the very ground of the crypt so that only members would know to look for it and only members would know its meaning. The caryatids are there to simply stop those who would just barrel to the treasures inside, failing to say the proper words out of sheer ignorance to their presence. It is a deceptively simple, strangely brilliant system: simply notice and read the words aloud and be granted entry.
Runyon smiles and snaps her fingers, and her eyes light up, for the moment still shining purple instead of their usual green. "I think I have it! My friends, let us return to the crypt and enter. I believe I have the code cracked, but let's all be on our guard anyway." With that, and without waiting for a response, the gangly academic steps back down into the crypt, and clearly -- if a bit overdramatically -- intones the Osirian phrase, and then strides forward in what she hopes is a confident manner towards the door in the crypt, past the watchful stone guardians, and attempts to open it.
"A Sek, Abet Sahu, Khu Ba Heteph."
As Runyon reads the Osirian runes aloud, the statues remain perfectly still. A click echoes through the silent crypt, coming from the iron-wrought gates between the antechamber and the main portion of the crypt. The locks open, apparently by magical means. Runyon tentatively pushes the gate open, its creaking making the mausoleum all the more unsettling. From her vantage point, she can see the stairs leading down into another room below the ground.
Melk follows Runyon pretty closely, feeling - oddly - a bit more at easy in the confines of the crypt. He points out an alcove, "Diese - these - do not hold any bodies. It's like they are just for decoration." He examines the statues and adds, "While these decorations are more than what they seem to be." He seems happy at that symmetry. But possibly that is just the lay of his face.
'I'll take your word for it Melk.' Aydan keeps a wary eye on Melk and moves towards the stairs. 'I'll just check for any more defenses.'
He takes out a number of tools and removes his gloves, running his hands and a set of small tines over various parts of the stairs, and gently testing each step, he moves down into the crypt. But his mind is distracted by a multitude of questions, and his surety that there won't be any more traps.