"You're right, Melk." Run nods. "Not sure what that means, though knowing a bit more about who's behind all this goes some way towards putting my mind at ease."
Azuk'ai hardly hears what the others are discussing, so intent is he on the statues they pass. Hearing somthing about traps from Ayden he zooms back in on the group. "Let me help you look." he says, fingering his way down a wall with Ayden.
"Shall I lead the way?" Melk asks Runyon, mentally steeling himself to descend deeper into the crypt.
Remembering Melk's fearsome hand-to-hand skills, Run nods gratefully. "Certainly, my friend, though I will be close behind helping to keep a lookout and be ready to aid against any threats. I feel that anything we face in this place will be best faced together."
Reaching the bottom of the stairs Aydan looks around himself, taking in the decorations and looking for any markings or script. Then finally he slowly approaches the main sarchophagus.
'My money is on this being our cache, but long training in Absalom was taught me to be wary about opening coffins for trinkets. Well, you know, without the proper perparations.'
Coming up behind Ayden Azuk'ai looks around the chamber before stepping to the sarchophagus. "Let me look at it first."
Bending down close Azuk'ai looks the sarchophagus over, top to bottom before even touching it, examining the seems of the lid especially.
Azuk'ai is incredibly cautious, almost comically so when he fails to find any traps. He is incredulous that he can't find any traps. They're either amazingly well-hidden or not there. If it's the latter, they're in for a world of hurt with some dangerous people. If it's the former, there must not be anything worth protecting. It's a frustrating dilemma.
"Nichts? Nothing?" Melk looks over Azuk'ai's shoulder. "Shall we look? Or are these maybe just to fool us, and the cache is hidden elsewhere in here?" Melk follows up his suggestion by searching the room at large.
'At some point we just have to take a leap of faith I guess. Stand back chaps! I'll take a crack at opening this!' Aydan grins, but his eyes rest wraily on the sarcophagus.
He waits until the others have moved back onto the stairs before striding forwards, his footsteps don't betray any trepidation, but he winces, hoping no-one can see, when he lays his hand on the burial device. Rolling his shoulders, and cracking his neck, he places both hands on the stone lid and begins to push it slowly open.
Azuk'ai steps back with a nod to Ayden, respecting the mans decision for wanting to open the sarcophagus. Standing by the exit he glances up the stairs and takes in the room in general, long nights wandering the streets of Leipstadt have made him naturally wary of hiden dangers.
Runyon stays out of the way while Aydan does his thing, her thin arms being largely useless for any feats of strength. Her elven eyes are still sharp, though, so she keeps a lookout with Azuk'ai and Melk, and sees if there's anything else that looks like it may be useful. Perhaps there's more Osirian, or...or something...
The sarcophagus opens with a puff of musty air, but not the indelible, unmistakeable smell of a mummified corpse. The six adventurers peer over Aydan's broad shoulders as he pushes the lid off. It hits the ground with a solid thump, startling them a bit. There is no body in the sarcophagus, nor any evidence that any remains were ever inside its stone contours. Instead, they see a well-organized cache of weapons and supplies inside. It has been partially emptied, but multiple items remain inside. There are a few dozen arrows, multiple potions and scrolls, and a strange darkwood case decorated with the image of a scarab with a single eye in its back - the mark the the Order of the Palatine Eye.
12x Silver Arrow
6x Sun Rod
6x Flask of Holy Water
10x +1 Arrows
5x +1 Ghost Touch Arrows
2x +1 Undead Bane Arrows
5x Potion of Cure Light Wounds
2x Potion of Lesser Restoration
1x Scroll of Detect Undead
2x Scroll of Hide from Undead
1x Scroll of Protection from Evil
1x Darkwood Case (See Below)
Duron picks the case up and opens it. There are 12 velvet-lined indentations, half of which are filled with strange glass vials about the size of a small rod. The metal casings that contain the vials are etched with eldritch markings and runes, with a small wisp of white vapor churning inside. Duron's eyes light up with a blue glow as he casts a spell and analyzes them. "They are magical, used to trap and neutralize ghostly haunts. I imagine these will be most useful for our delve into the Harrowstone." He pulls out a thin wooden board marked with letters, as well as a brass triangular metal piece with a hole in the middle. He gazes at them intently as well. "This planchette is likewise a magical item, though the board is mundane. It can be used to communicate with the dead, channeling their thoughts into the selection of the lettters."
'Excellent this has been a mighty haul. Who wants to take what? I don't mind carrying some extra equipment myself. And some of these potions will come in useful. Trust Petros to have them all neatly labelled! Pharasma keep him.' He goes queit for a moment when he remembers that she doesn't have his soul, then with grim determination turns back to his fellows.
'This was a good start. We should retire to the mansion and make our plans for tomorrow. More research may be required. If only we could get Duron into the library under the church. I imagine a wizard is always going to be the best in terms of scholarly sluething.'
"If there's no trouble, I'd like to hold on to these two," Melk says, picking up a sun rod and a potion of cure light wounds. "I don't think the others will be much use to me."
"I'm more than happy to see the curative potions go to the warriors among us, basically everyone but myself, I suppose." The skinny elf gives a rueful sideways smile, then continues. "I can split up the scrolls with Duron, and will gladly take a potion of restoration. None of the arrows are any use to me, I'm afraid. I am, however, I should hasten to say, quite eager to try out this...board, and see what the dead may offer us in the way of information. Perhaps it can help us in our explorations of Harrowstone, or tell us about poor Petros, trapped in the ethereal plane." She frowns at this thought.
Azuk'ai's eyes glow in exitement as he examines the cache. "This is quite the find." he says aprovingly as he eyes the arrows in particular. Reaching in he examines each lovingly, "I'm sure we'll put these to good use. Let's gather this up and head back to the house. We need to plan and discuss, we can divy this up there."
'Not a bad idea,' Aydan says and carefully places all of the items in his backpack before turning to face his companions. 'Back to the Manor? Run, maybe you should lead the way. Intone that password again.'
He cinches his backpack as he takes, rebalancing its weight on his shoulders, trying to ensure that the potions, now wrapped in bits of cloth, won't do too much bouncing around should he get into some strenous activity or other.
Melk whispers to Aydan, a little bashful. "Ich... well... I don't know how these actually work," he says, wiggling a sunrod in his hand. "What does it do?"
'Its a sunrod, Melk my friend. If you crack it just so along that middle part, with provides bright light for a few hours, without fire or noise. They can be very useful when exploring. I remember the story about an expedition to the Darklands that refused to pay the extra expense and took torchs. They hit a pocket of gas and the ones that didn't get blown up scattered and ended up with no light. They were discovered later by a team sent to find out waht happened to them.'
"Ooooh. I see," Melk looks a little guilty, "I hope nobody minds then." Seeing that nobody seems to object to him carrying the sunrod, he stows it away looking content even beyond his smiling expression. "I shall treasure it."
Run nods and steps forth, not sure if it's necessary to repeat the passphrase but certainly not wanting to take any chances, either. "A Sek, Abet Sahu, Khu Ba Heteph."
Azuk'ai smirks at Melk's simpleness, feigned or real he's not sure, but when Run intones the pass phrase he tenses and eyes the statues ready to make a run for the door. "Let's hope this works."
The statues do not move as the six reluctant adventurers make their way out of the crypt. Their stone eyes simply watch them unmovingly as they close the door behind them with a loud finality. Looking out into the graveyard, an eerie quiet has settled over the town. They make their way out of the cemetery as quietly as possible, knowing that they entered without the blessing of Father Grimburrow. If caught, his stern and relentless stare will surely come down upon them with its full disapproving weight.
Fortunately for them, there are no gravediggers or visitors in the cemetery. As a matter of fact, there is no one in sight as they exit the Restlands, or when they make their way back towards the town. Even the farmhands are gone. The only sign of life is the omnipresent crows, cawing relentlessly from the trees.
As they arrive at the town, it is clear where everyone is. The town hall is bursting with people, flowing into the town center. Hundreds of people, likely the town's entire population, mill about. It is an almost uniformly human group, with only a handful of other races. There is a definite pall over the town's mood. Everyone speaks in whispers and murmurs. When the adventurers make their way towards the crowd, the townspeople look at them suspiciously and whisper to each other. A few of them even point.
Sheriff Caeller walks up onto the stage, followed by five older humans who are probably the magistrates. He motions for them to be quiet. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know there are a lot of rumors floating around, which is why we called the town meeting. This morning, Colthan Sermak discovered his girlfriend, Kilder Sothale, murdered in her bed." His voice is extremely pained, as if just trying to get through the announcement. "Her throat was slit during the night, it seems. Her parents, just in the next room, did not hear a thing. If anyone heard anything, please tell us."
His gaze falls upon the adventurers at the edge of the crowd. "Let it be known that we will find out who committed this horrific crime. I will not rest until I put them in the ground." He sounds determined, impassioned even. He seems to be taking this personally. "Now, Magistrate Gebs would like to speak."
One of the male humans on the stage steps forward to address the crowd. "I've heard the rumors, but I want you to know that we don't think that this is a return of the Silent Knife. We believe that whoever did this is trying to make us believe that it is. Be vigilant, everyone." He steps back, allowing the crowd to speak amongst itself and begin to disperse. Sheriff Caeller leads the way off the stage for them, and goes to a young man. He comforts him with a hand on his shoulder and a firm handshake while whispering something.
Runyon takes off her hat and bows her head in respect and observes a moment of silence for the poor woman who was murdered. We all only get one good go-round in this life, it shouldn't have to end in such a terrible way. This murderer will be caught. Looking around, and realizing how much she and Duron stick out, she sighs and puts her big hat back on her head, pulling the brim down a bit and trying futilely to be inconspicuous.
Aydan bows his head solemly, making the spiral of Pharasma over his chest as the Sherrif talks. A sign for the dead, and a sign for protection. He raises his head as the Sherriff finishes, keenly aware that they are being watched suspiciously all around.
Remember boy, if you think the urban Ustalavi are unfreidnly and suspicious, wait until you get down country, he remembered his fathers warning, told to him as he set off from Caliphas. He wasn't a man eager to talk about his feelings, but he did give solid advice.
Aydan looked around at his companions, two elves, each magic users, a wild boy, shy strange Melk, and whatever the hell Akuz'ai is. We stick out like a sore thumb. Time to do some mingling.
Aydan moves through the crowd towards the sherriff, but he takes his time, introducing himself if the citizens let him, patting shoulders, solemn nods, all small gestures to ingratiate him with the populace.
Melk is shocked. A tear flows down his cheek as he picks up on the Sheriff's intensity - he empathizes with the pain. Solemnly he nods to all the words spoken, both by the Sheriff and the older man.
As the crowd begins to disperses he takes a look around, trying to find someone that doesn't seem to flinch at his approach and that looks like they might be willing to share some information. "Entschuldigung - excuse me - who or what is the Silent Knife?"
Azuk'ai grimances at the news, giving a small tsk he shakes his head and cast his eyes down with a sigh. 'Poor girl. Bad fate to die so young.' Looking back up he determines he will help find the killer. Catching the sheriffs eye when he talks of capturing the guilty Azuk'ai is shocked at the implication he sences. 'What!? Us!? Hells!' The shock running through his head he adopts a stance of non-chalance and swiftly scans the crowd, seeing what he can off peoples faces and stances. ,
Following after Aydan as he starts forward he keeps his eyes on the crowd, offering a wain smile and a nod if he catches anyones eye. Standing by his shoulder when he offers his condolances to the boy Colthan Sermak Azuk'ai mutters his own under his stern, watchfull gaze.
Melk, mingling in with the crowd, asks an older farmer about the Silent Knife. The man looks at him with a bit of an incredulous look. "What, you stupid? Twenty years back, someone was killin' citizens just like that. Always during night, always with a knife. No one ever heard a thing. Never looked like they even woke up. Lasted a month, then they just stopped. I always thought it was that weird Professor Lorrimor, since they stopped the same night he left town suddenly to 'return to his studies.' Never did prove anything though."
As Aydan and Azuk'ai make their way into the crowd, most of them view them fairly suspiciously. Most of them, at least having seen Azuk'ai once or twice around town, view Aydan with more suspicion. Things get a bit worse when he gives a poorly worded condolence: "I can guarantee you that she didn't feel any pain." The crowd begins to murmur and whisper even more suspiciously, pressing in towards him with angry looks on most of their faces.
Melk is taken aback, he shakes his head no-no: "That cannot be, the Professor was a good man. Sehr good."
Runyon winces when she hears Aydan misspeak, but the green-haired elf continues to hang back, now looking to make sure she is near the door, and in as clear an area as possible. She keeps her eyes peeled for trouble, but knows that if she steps in, anything she would say could only make things worse for the poor man.
I'm here for you, Aydan, but if it's talking you want to do, I'm afraid I won't be of much help. I'm basically a monster to most of these folk, as far as I've been able to tell. She looks to Duron for encouragement, but the elder elf has a faraway look in his eyes, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
-she didn't feel any pain,' Aydan hears the words as soon as they leave his mouth and nearly winces at himself. He doesn't try and rectify their oddness though. Babbling would only draw more ire. Get to the sherriff.
Looking over his shoulder Aydan nods to Akuz'ai and moves throught the crowd towards the sherriff. He tries to catch his attention, and moves forward when he gets a chance.
'Sherriff. Terrible tidings on this night, Lady guide us. I know you don't have much love lost for strangers in your town, but me and my companions are available to aid you in your investigations and in defending the town. I know your guards are capable, but a few more good sword arms never goes astray.'
Azuk'ai stares in shock at Ayden when he realizes what he said. '..she didn't feel any.. What!?' Taking Ayden's shoulder he steers him away from the grieving with a nod and an apologetic smile to the grief striken boy.
Shaking his head he walks off with him to Sheriff Caeller, "Guard your tounge man! They don't like stranger, let alone strangers who act to forward." he hisses into his ear as they approch. Listening curtly as Ayden talks to him he just nods his concent, "It's your town Sheriff, you know where to find us if you need anything." he adds.
The Sheriff takes the offer in stride, though he seems to have a fixed gaze upon them. "I'll keep that in mind. How about we go have a talk about what you can do to help?"
He wants to get them away from the crowd, probably to interrogate them as to their whereabouts in private. He seems very suspicious of them.
Sence Motive Distracted by the crowd and still shamed by Aydan's comments Azuk'ai still catches the Sheriff's meaning. "Ofcourse." he says gruffly, his eyes narrowing. 'Figures.' "Shall I gather up the party for you now so you discuss with us one by one in private." he drawls at him. "Aydan. Stay with the Sheriff while I go and gather the others please." with that he heads into the crowd to quietly gather up the party to go with the Sheriff.
"Oh, hi Azuk'ai - what? Sheriff? Of course. Right away." Melk dutifully moves off, pulling up alongside Aydan. Noting the Sheriff's expression Melk looks to his feet and mumbles, "My... condolences. Sheriff. I hope we can serve justice."
Aydan nods to the sherriffs demand, keeping his face straight, but sighing internally. He had expected to get this reaction, especially after drawing the ire of the crowd with his statement. What was I thinking. I must put better thought into my words in future. This is a delicate situation.
'My comrades will be along shortly sherriff. You'll find them all honest, good-hearted folk. Trustworthy men and women all.' Lady I hope thats true. I barely know any of them.
Sheriff Caeller quietly gathers the six of them, pulling them out of the crowd and bringing them to his office. The deputies are there to make sure that they come quietly, and to not cause a panic or a stir in the crowd. It is in their interest to go, as Aydan's comments have rippled through the crowd, which has turned decidedly less friendly. The office, part of the small jail, is a spartan room with just a single desk. There is a small room off to the side, presumably for interrogations.
Caeller enters the jail and takes off his trenchcoat and wide-brimmed hat. He places both of them on a rack off to the side, but keeps his short sword to his side. With the adventurers standing in the middle of the room, he asks them, "I'm going to have to ask you all to hand over your weapons for now. Don't worry. You'll get them back." With the four deputies behind him and the power of his legal authority, the request carries quite a bit of weight.
Azuk'ai's shoulders haunch and his ears flatten agains his skull as he glares at the Sheriff and his deputies. His eyes glint in the gloom as he feels his blood burn at the indignation offered by the man. Folding his arms he hisses at the Sheriff. "Why? We have alibis Sheriff. Both Kendra and Father Harkin can account for our whereabouts last night."
"Now now, there is no need for concern. Ich am sure that the good Sheriff knows what he's doing," Melk attempts to soothe over Auzk'ai's outburst. "Ich... don't really have anything I can give," his positive expression carrying a small frown of uncertainty. "A... sunrod maybe?"
Caeller offers his hand to take Azuk'ai's spiked chain. "I'm not going to ask again. Hand over your weapons first, then we can talk about last night. I promise that you'll get them back." His voice is calm and determined, as if ready for conflict.
Azuk'ai smiles a crocked grin at the Sheriff and gives a snort of a laugh. "Huh! You'r just looking for an excuse aren't you?" he says goadingly. "Alright Sheriff. Your the boss." he says holding up his hands before unfurling his chain and handing it over. Unslinging his bow and arrows he hands that over as well before bending down to get the dagger out of his boot to hand that over too. "You'll want this as well then? Make sure to check it for blood stains." he sneers at him.
With a wary look, Aydan removes his weaponry and hands it over to the Sheriff and his deputies. He can sense the tension in the room, and the sherriffs and his men have thrown him off balance, he can feel worry gnawing at his thoughts. What if they just decide to convist us regardless of proof. We need to stay in this village. Could I disarm a deputy?
His thoughts swirling Aydan appeals to the Sherriff once more.
'Sherriff, I assure you that we have no part in this murder. This meeting is the first we have heard about it. I implore you to think realistically why would do such a thing? We're obviously new in town, and have already drawn attention to ourselves. Why would we come to the Town hall, and why would I and Akuz'ai approach you and come readily to what was obviously going to be an interrogation. I understand your frustration Sherriff. But time spent on a dead end in the investigation wastes time better spent elsewhere.'
Diplomacy:
"Well this is a fine way to treat a visiting academic and friend of the late Professor Lorrimor, and one who is assisting this village, I might add." Runyon says prissily. No one else seems to be making headway, I guess, so no point wasing words on niceties. The elf makes a big show of handing over her crossbow, then opening each side of her coat to hand over her daggers and bolts. She then crosses her arms and sulks, leaning against the wall with her hat brim pulled down in what she hopes is a sufficiently loutish position to discourage them from taking any of her alchemical supplies.
As Duron and Wesh also hand over what few weapons they have, Sheriff Caeller hands them to the deputies. "Lock these up. I'll be interviewing them, so just go back out on patrol." When the four of them leave, Caeller sits down in his chair and puts his feet up one at a time. Runyon grimaces as dust and mud get on top of the desk.
"I know you didn't have anything to do with it. But the citizens of the village don't, and they're pretty likely to jump to conclusions. Despite what the magistrates say, it was the Silent Knife. Since my predecessor didn't catch him, I've maintained the files and learned the case inside and out. He was certain that it was someone in the town, and I share that certainty."
Duron interrupts him, his keen mind working analytically. "How can you be certain?"
Caeller sighs and puts his feet flat on the floor. Runyon breathes a sigh of relief. "There's a detail that's never been shared with the public, about the original murders and Kilder's death. The bodies were drained entirely of blood. Vampires were ruled out, as the weapon was manufactured and the killer simply used gravity to collect the blood. If it was someone trying to make it look like the Silent Knife, they know details that only a handful of people would know." He rubs his eyes for a moment, looking exhausted. "Logically, it's someone who lived in the town then as well as now. You all are here for a number of reasons: both for your own protection from the townspeople, and to give the real killer a false sense of security."
He stretches a bit and cracks his bones, then stands. "I need your help. I've known everyone here my whole life. I can't fathom any individual being a murderer. I need the eyes of outsiders, someone free of a lengthy history with this place. Ten years ago, when people were disappearing, I thought that I could handle it myself. Magistrate Joffeno was leading the cult right under my nose, helping with the investigation. It took Professor Lorrimor's assistance to learn the truth, and my wife was amongst the victims by then. I'm not going to make the same mistake again, not with my son and the rest of the town in danger." He looks old in that moment, much older than his actual age, weighed down by a lifetime of horrible sights and tragedies. "What do you all say? Will you help me?"
'Sherriff,' Aydan begins solenmly, 'I am truly sorry that I underestimated you. You have my eyes, mind and blade at your service. Without hesitation.' Aydan puts two fingers together and makes the sign of the swirling starfall of Pharasma. 'May I be judged on it, I swear to do everything I can to help in this investigation.'
'It would make a huge difference if we could get access to all of your old case files. Details like the bloodletting, and other small things may lend themselves to helping us find the killer. Was any pattern identified in the attacks all those years ago? Perhaps a way we could identify the next target?'
Run blushes crimson for jumping to conclusions of thuggery on the part of the sheriff. She stammers out a heartfelt -- if awkward -- apology. "I...I'm certain we can help you, Sheriff, and we-I-er, we...will do everything we can. I stand with Aydan, of course. Anything we can do to assist."
Melk listens to the Sheriff's words seriously. His stony features imitating the glacial thought processes that accompany the words he is hearing. After Aydan and Run pledge their dedication to the cause Melk falls straight into a question: "How did the good Professor help ten years ago? The same Methode can help again this time." Melk nods, almost as if listening to himself, before adding, "If the same people are involved it would have to be somebody that was associated with... Magistrate Joffeno...?"
The Sheriff shakes his head at Melk's suggestion. "You misunderstand. The town has seen its share of tragedy, more than it deserves. The Silent Knife killed dozens of people twenty years ago. The cult, secretly led by Magistrate Joffeno, killed dozens more ten years ago. There's never been any reason to believe that they were related." He stops and sighs, a heaviness in his voice. "I think that the town is cursed. It's that damn prison. It needs to be torn down brick by brick."
He gets a hold of himself after a moment, returning his gaze to the six of them. "Here is the plan. I need two of you to stay here. You'll work with me under the pretense of being detained. Starting tomorrow, the others will investigate quietly and discreetly. Just get to know the town. I'll take you to the crime scene tonight, after it is dark. Until then, just head back to the Professor's house. I'll meet you there tonight under the cover of darkness."
Duron steps forward, speaking in that strange archaic way. "I will stay with you. Perhaps my magic can assist the investigation from here."
Wesh also hesitatingly steps forward. "Me and Ramon can stay too. Ain't gonna be much use thinkin'. Lived in a cave for years, a cell ain't much different."
Azuk'ai blushes in embarasment for misunderstandig the sheriffs intent so grossly, shiftingt from foot to foot he mumbles a half-heard apology to the lawman before turning to the wall.
"I'm going." he states. "I'm no good at this thinking buisness. I need to be out and acting. Besides, some of the townfolk recognize me. They might take better to a relative stranger than a complete one." he glances at Aydan at that one.
Aydan gives Akuz'ai a lobsided smile and shrugs.
'I'll try and patch things up with the townsfolk. Better to make myself a realtive stranger than a complete one. I hope my pathfinder training can lend some extra edge in this investigation. We'll do our best.'
'C'mon friends, lets head back to the manor, keep our heads down for today, let tempers blow off, and pray there isn't another murder tonight.' Aydan shakes Durons hand, and offers his hand to Wesh, who takes it begrudginly after a few awkward moments.
Then he walks out, with a solemn, chastised look on his face. After recovering his gear, he leaves the town hall and begins walking purposefully towards the manor, through the brisk evening air. Could do with some food anyway. I'm getting downright starving.