Ereviss grabs the book of drama he has been writing their story into. Writing the next Act with a neat handwriting that is crisp and efficient. As they arrive in the gloomy town of Morast, he has done his best to inspire the group to greatness.
"Let us see what we can discover of where the Beast has been here and talk to any witnesses."
Walking out on the docks you see nobody; except for an elderly gentleman out on one of the further stilt shacks. He dangles his legs over the edge while holding one end of a rod; a line from the end drops into the murky water.
Christoph doesn't bother to hide his scowl at the defender's sharp remark, though he holds back the retort with an irritable huff. "My apologies, friends, I wasn't expecting the fearsome Beast of Lepidstadt to be so easily cowed. Mea culpa."
Christoph remains quiet on the road to Morast, irritated after overstepping his bounds and limiting what they could learn from the beast. He pulls out his copy of The Bones Land in a Spiral and flips through the notes on the undead therein, looking for clues as the to the Beasts provenance. He listens idly to Ereviss' recitation, feeling his irritation fading and being replaced by determination to succeed. I have failed in my duty. May the Lady of Graves help me to walk the path I must in order to succeed.
Stepping into the soft muck of the trail, Christoph glances about the swamp, idly slapping at a midge that lands on his neck. Spotting only the old man, he shrugs and turns to his companions, "Should we try speaking to him? If nothing else, he's likely to have been here when the village was attacked. It is... odd... though, that the village is so deserted."
Walking towards the old man Rhia gives him a disarming smile, it's effect ruined not only by her almost ethereal appearance in the gloom but the unnatural creak of footsteps a foot ahead of her. "Hello sir, could we perhaps have a moment of your time?"
"What do you know about strange goings on in these parts? What you using for bait?"
"Is it true the Beast came through here? Can you point us the right way to see what he done?"
Ereviss pulls out a fine bottle of wine. "This is a good year. Want some?"
Skiia is relieved the others have taken the lead in making conversation with the one villager they've seen so far, and decides not to make things even stranger by crowding around him too. Surely Ereviss' effusive good humour will draw the elderly man out. In the meantime, Skiia's trained eye sweeps over the village. Not her first choice for a place to live, and she can't help but think that it would be much more practical to build into the trees rather than rely on gradually rotting stilts. Even as part of her mind starts shaping an architectural fantasy, she keeps an eye on the here and now for anything interesting or even a more pronounced sign of life that might be a more hopeful place to continue their investigation of Morast.
Did I sense deception when he was saying he didn't do it (guessing no)?
No, you had no sense he was hiding anything. He believed it when he said he didn't do it.
The man scowled at Rhia suspiciously.
"What are you city folk doing out here anyways?"
He seems to respond more easily to Ereviss and banters back and forth about local gossip. Eventually, Ereviss drew the story of the Beast's depredations from him.
Lazne is a grizzled, middle-aged man with dirty gray hair and skin the color of swamp mud. He chews on a foul-smelling swamp weed and punctuates most of his sentences by spitting weed-juice onto the ground.
Lazne doesn’t much like “cityfolk and furriners” (by which he means anyone not from Morast, or, to a lesser extent, from Lepidstadt).
Lazne claims that at first the Beast only took lone villagers who were outside at night, but soon became bolder and began to attack houses.
These attacks only ended when Lazne organized the villagers and set a trap for the Beast.
He recalls that night well. The villagers were lying in wait for the Beast, who attacked just after nightfall.
Armed with torches, the locals attacked and wounded the creature—a huge, hulking brute about 7 feet tall.
The Beast took to the water, but the swampers gave chase in their boats, pursuing it to the village boneyard, where it was attacked by a blood caiman.
Lazne grins as he recalls how the Beast yelled oaths and curses that even the worst whore in Lepidstadt would blush to say as the gator attacked it, and describes the deep bite wound the gator made on the Beast’s shoulder as it dragged the Beast under the water.
Although the Beast’s blood tainted the villagers’ burial ground, forcing them to abandon it and build another, the swampers thought it a small price to pay for the thing’s death.
Hearing that the Beast actually survived was all that Lazne needed to tell his story to the authorities, and he’s looking forward to seeing it burn.
Lazne took the pipe from his mouth and looked at you with cynical amusement.
"What? Don't ye believe me?"
He nodded at the swamp.
"Look fer yerself if'n ye don't. Old Bonyard is upswamp a mile 'r so.
"Watch out fer that blood Caimen if'n ye do. Since 'e didn't manage ta swaller the Beast, he's probly kinda hungry now..."
Ereviss tosses the man a gold piece.
"Save some fish if you catch some. Nothing like fresh fish. Thanks for your help."
"We will be cautious."
As they head down tot he Boneyard, they are alert for this creature.
Lazne chortled at Ereviss.
"It's on an island city-boy!
He put his fingers to his lips and gave a sharp whistle. A couple of swamp kids popped around a spit of forest, barefoot and holding onto their straw hats.
"You kids get the boat! Got some city folk want ta see the old Boneyard!" He yelled down at them.
"Yes grampa!" They yelled back.
In short order, a couple of flat bottomed boats are procured and the kids are poling you through the densely forested swamp. They spend an inordinate amount of time not just looking down for caimen, but up as well.
"Boas." They explain. "Like ta drop down on ya."
An hour or so later...
A tiny, miserable island rises from the swamp, a tangle of trees covering its dour, reed-choked surface.
Hundreds of fetishes hang from the trees—simple, roughly humanoid figures made of sticks and bound with twine.
Larger fetishes are planted in the ground on various parts of the island, leaning drunkenly in the soft mud.
A large nest built of sodden swamp wood sits high in the boughs of a trio of tangled trees on the northwest side of the isle.
Ereviss lets their paladin plan the tactics, he looks around to find him.
Christoph eyes the mud-covered isle warily, reflexively reaching out and grasping at his bowstave. Unsure if he should go armed or not, he errs on the side of caution and draws and strings the bow. "I'm not a fan of what we're seeing at all. It seems like we should have a look around. There might be some signs of what happened here."
He chants a quick prayer and a soft white glow envelops his eyes as he casts his orison. He spends a moment studying the surrounding area for magical auras and anything out of place before he moves.
You have no sense that Lazne lied, distorted or left anything out of his story.
From where you are by the boats, you can see that there is an old campfire a bit west of where you are, and that is a damn big nest up there in the nortwest.
No magic though, as far as you can tell.
Kendra made her way delicately around the areas where the creepy looking fetishes dangled down from the trees, wringing her hands and saying 'Ew' when she had to brush by them in any way. Going over by the old fireplace, she poked about with her staff.
You don't see how anyone who held this island as sacred, like the local people who's ancestors are buried here, would desecrate it with a campfire. It's out of place.
While probing around the edges of the old campfire with her staff, you all heard a *clink* of metal-on-glass.
"Ereviss? Do you know what this could be?" Kendra asked with a puzzled frown on her face.
"7' tall and with a savage bite wound over one shoulder. Does that match up with our charge?" Agrimar wonders aloud.
"Local custom dictates no campfires on this island. It bears investigation. And Kendra, you have found some glass--why glass?"
Christoph maintains his concentration on his spell as he moves to kneel by the firepit that Kendra is inspecting. He pulls his dagger from its sheath and digs out the buried item. "What's worse is that it would be a desecration of a hallowed land. I greatly dislike this. Keep an eye on that nest as well, no use disturbing whatever makes its home there." He gestures offhand with his bow in the direction of the nest after he's dug the item free of the fire pit.
Skiia is quiet, the boneyard waking unwelcome memories of another grave, far away in Kyonin, even if the particular form the memorials of this community take are unfamiliar.
Concentrating on the matter at hand to avoid slipping further into melancholy, she keeps an eye out for anything unusual on the island, especially any signs of life. Despite her best efforts, a creeping sense of something gone wrong settles over her, and she shivers.
You recall that the Beast had a fair number of scars, along with extensive stitch markings, but nothing like the bite described by the witness stood out for you.
Around the old firepit, Kendra, Ereviss and Christoph dig up a waterskin (still half full of wine), the aged remnants of some trail rations, and a curious glass vial. The bottom of the vial contains the dried remains of a green substance that smells vaguely of carrots.
You identify the substance not as a potion, but as an alchemist’s darkvision extract.
Agrimar, Skiia and Rhiia, moving carefully through the bramble filled graveyard, come across a group of graves that appear to have been disturbed. They look sunken in, like they’ve been hollowed out from below.
Skiia puzzles over the sunken graves for a moment, wondering just how stable the marshy island really is, and trying to think of alternative explanations. She is distracted, though, by the others' murmurings over their finds around the firepit, and wanders back over.
Still unsettled by her surroundings, Skiia shares a small nervous smile with Kendra and Ereviss, and is somewhat relieved that examining the odd vial gives her mind something else to focus on than the shiver she tries to keep from running down her spine. With a brief wrinkle of her nose, Skiia opines, "That is interesting. This wasn't a potion powered by magic in the usual sense, but rather some sort of alchemy. It's not a craft on which I've ever focused, but judging from what seems to have gone into it, this tincture was meant to bolster the drinker's vision in darkness, beyond even what's normal for my people - rather, akin to the sight of dwarves and other folk accustomed to dark deeper than that of a moonlit forest. Someone was traveling somewhere or when they didn't want to rely on light, even if they normally had to."
Christoph frowns at the vial, studying it a moment, but unable to determine its nature before handing it over to Skiia to examine. He listens to her explanation with interest, eyes still scanning the area. A sound from above draws his attention and his eyes widen at the horror diving to attack them. He opens his mouth to shout a warning, too late.
"That is darkvision stuff. The beast wouldn't need that. MANTICORE COMING!!"
Ereviss readies his bow and pulls Kendra under cover. If time permits, he takes cover.
A roar/scream shocks you as the bone freezing hiss of projectiles beat the ground all around you.
for a possible piercing damage.
for a possible piercing damage.
for a possible piercing damage.
for a possible extra piercing damage.
for a possible piercing damage.
The shadow of a Manticore flits over you and you can see it turning sharply over the northeastern corner of the island, looking to make another pass. (It is approximately sixty feet above ground level on the map. Each square is ten feet wide.)
You see the swamp boys duck below the gunwales of their boats out of sight.
Round 1___________________
Players take their turn in order of posting, enemies will go last.
Christoph's hand shines in a blaze of white as he prays for his patron's blessing. "Holy Pharasma, guide my hand and see to my fate." His spell done, he gestures to the creature and calls down a judgement on the creature, "Lady of Graves, may you judge this creature fairly."
Nocking an arrow, he takes a few steps to clear his line of site.
Divine Favor (10 rounds)
Judgement of Sacred Destruction (until combat ends)
Rhia lets out a cry of pain as two of the spikes slam into her body, the spirits around her rising up to protect her, a swirling ephemeral wall of warriors from the past spring up like an honor guard.
Agrimar moves to Rhia and attempts to interpose himself between her and any more ranged Manticore attacks.
Ereviss waits until the manitcore comes, and before it is in range, he gestures and gold specks of magic dust appear.
Skiia looks up at Ereviss' shout just in time to try to twist out of the way of the volley of spikes the creature launches. She manages to avoid the one, but another lodges firmly under her ribs, forcing a sharp cry from her. Forcing herself to ignore the pain, Skiia keeps her mind and body moving: breaking off the end of the spine where it juts from her armour, she instantly assesses the range to the beast, her hand already dropping the spine and drawing an arrow, as she tries to remember anything useful about manticores...
Scrambling backward, Kendra tripped over something in the grass and fell sprawling.
Round 1___________________
Christoph Metzger_____
Christoph's hand shines in a blaze of white as he prays for his patron's blessing. "Holy Pharasma, guide my hand and see to my fate." His spell done, he gestures to the creature and calls down a judgement on the creature, "Lady of Graves, may you judge this creature fairly."
Nocking an arrow, he takes a few steps to clear his line of site.
Rhia Van der Geist_____
Rhia lets out a cry of pain as two of the spikes slam into her body, the spirits around her rising up to protect her, a swirling ephemeral wall of warriors from the past spring up like an honor guard.
Agrimar_____
Ereviss Ladyhunter_____
Skiia Anamabon _____
Skiia looks up at Ereviss' shout just in time to try to twist out of the way of the volley of spikes the creature launches. She manages to avoid the one, but another lodges firmly under her ribs, forcing a sharp cry from her. Forcing herself to ignore the pain, Skiia keeps her mind and body moving: breaking off the end of the spine where it juts from her armour, she instantly assesses the range to the beast, her hand already dropping the spine and drawing an arrow, as she tries to remember anything useful about manticores...
Manticores eat any meat, even carrion, though they prefer human flesh and rarely pass up an opportunity for such a delicacy. They are smart and social enough to bargain with or bully evil humanoids into alliances or offering tribute, and more powerful creatures may hire or bribe them to guard or patrol a place or area. They like lairs in high places, such as hilltops and caves in cliffs.
And… now that you take a closer look, this one seems a little fat.
Or pregnant.
Move action, activate studied target, standard action, attack!
Kendra______
Scrambling backward, Kendra tripped over something in the grass and fell sprawling.
Enemies_____________________
The Manticore swooped over the eastern group and angled over towards Ereviss and Kendra. Its still 40 feet up though and out of melee range.
Ereviss at this point cast Glitterdust , which burst in a glorious golden burst.
Fail!
It shrieked as it clawed at its eyes.
It beat its wings, clawing for altitude. Soaring over the treetops, you hear it shrieking as it disappeared into the distance.
The battle is over.
With the Manticore no longer a factor, you are free to explore the isle at leisure.
At the graves you noticed earlier, those six graves appear to have been tampered with, sagging into the ground as though they had collapsed from below, and leaving wide depressions in the muddy earth.
These six graves turn out to be empty, but the other graves are undisturbed.
At the NorthWestern corner, you stumble across the semiconcealed nest of what was probably the Manticore that attacked you earlier. Among other noxious things is the corpse of a Dwarf.
Going by clues on the body and clothing, this dwarf seems to have been a travelling liquor salesman, going by boat through the swamp before he was taken by the Manticore some 2-3 weeks ago.
The corpse wears a colorful patchwork coat with numerous pockets holding:
an oil flask;
a package of;
a silver hip flask;
a crimson felt purse containing 31 platinum lunas and 22 gold sovereigns.
a masterwork shortsword;
a wand;
You also find a coracle hidden in the trees and brush along the southwest shore of the island.
The coracle contains an oar, a moldy leather travel bag with a damp artisan’s outfit (a shirt, breeches, shoes, and a cloth apron) inside, and a vile object—what appears to be a detached and preserved human face.
Christoph lowers his bow as the creature flees into the distance, shimmering brightly despite the swamp's dark and fetid atmosphere. He nods to Ereviss, "That was impressive, whatever it was. A handy trick to have. Let's see what we can learn, eh?"
The Voice begins to thoroughly search the island, looking over the graves for some sign of what happened years ago with the beast.
Distracted by the sad conditions of the grave site, Christoph says a few prayers to Pharasma and spares a few drops of holy water for each grave, but sees little out of the ordinary. Making his way north, he finds the manticore's nest and its gristly occupant. Kneeling by the corpse, he grimaces at the condition, saying, "Once we've seen to our business, we should see this dwarf is given his last rites. The Lady of Graves would wish it of us."
"The poor fellow seems to have been a liquor merchant, based on this bill of goods he's carrying. The state of his body tells me he's been here a time. See that he's already been chewed up by maggots and they've had time to turn to flies and lay new egg? His body has been here for some two to three weeks. Let's see if we can find who his next of kin is, they deserve to know his fate." Rifling through the dwarf's pockets, he finds a number of items, but little of help in identifying the dwarf. "Hrm, not so much luck, but perhaps one of you might be able to learn more from these items?"
A shape in the rushes towards the edge of isle draws his attention, and he approaches warily, bow drawn. He calls to his companions, "I think we've found where the poor dwarf came from. This seems to be his boat."
Grunting, he looks along the length of rope that extends out into the water, curious as to it's purpose. He chants briefly and a glow appears in his eyes. "Not sure what to make of this rope though. Seems to be anchored to something, but what and why?"
As they notice the oddly sunken graves, Rhaia turns suddenly. "What?" she says in response to something only she can hear, "Show me!" she says approaching the unnaturally sunken earth.
"Gone. The bodies are gone!" she says in almost a whisper.
seeing the Manticore's lair she sees the dwarf's corpse,but is barely able to pay attention to it as she tries to remain alert for any sight of the missing bodies taking up the call of the undead.
Shaking herself, the Oracle of Pharasma moves through the scene of whatev had occurred, her skill and experience sifting through the dead man's effects, naming items almost distractedly as she processes what she sees, the coat lifting off the ground for a moment as she studies it, only to be tossed aside as her attention moves to the next item, nodding to herself as she looks at the wand.
Her eyes narrow as she notices a trail of blood, the pattern of the blood drops drawing her eyes up the the coracle. As she opens the back, taking in it's contents almost as if being directed by someone, she recoils, an expression of horror swiftly shifting to one of anger as the bushes around her begin to rattle as if beaten with sticks by an angry mob.
Ereviss points to the wand:
"That is a ghost sound wand. I can use that."
Ereviss finds the silver tools in a difficult hiding spot.
"The dried blood in the boat seems to show something was injured. Three feet up from the size of the drops. Don't think this fits the beast's profile. I think we have some great evidence here."
Seeing the others beat through the bushes and sifting through their finds efficiently, Skiia tries not to get in their way, still deeply unnerved by the island's atmosphere, and keeping an eye on the direction the manticore flew off in. "I don't wish to alarm everyone," she says, "but I wonder if that manticore might come back. I'm an architect, not a zoologist, so I don't know much about manticore anatomy and nesting habits, but if that one wasn't carrying its weight very unusually, I think it might actually have been pregnant."
Her speculation is interrupted by the gruesome spectacle presented by what Rhia turns out from the bag she's found. Though distracted, on hearing Ereviss' comment, Skiia adds, "But what else? Certainly, this hardly seems like what the Beast might be capable of, but that's not an entirely satisfying explanation. So, someone lured that merchant out here; why? And if there are missing bodies, and this thing..."
She frowns, unhappy with her lack of success in assembling the pieces of the puzzle. "Why don't you try pulling up that rope, Christoph?" she asks, calling up her own magic to examine the evil thing Rhia has found.
The detached and preserved human face has no enchantments on it that you can tell.
When you pull on the line, you feel a fairly heavy weight on the end of the line.
When you pull it in, you find the 50' rope is attached to a heavy sack. The sack is very large (you note with disquiet big enough to hold a Medium-sized humanoid in fact) and has dried blood soaked into its fabric.
... deduces that this is a surgical tool set used by physicians and chirurgeons.
You notice a small symbol on the handle depicting a raven.
... you realize that while the mask is getting a little ragged, the original face is still kind of recognizable. And that the face is human, so cannot be the Dwarf you found in the nest.
"Oh gods! It's been worn....probably multiple times as a mask." Rhia says in utter disgust, the gruesomeness of the object she holds distracting her attention from anything else.
Before Skiia can get a good look at the tools Ereviss has found, she hurries over to help Christoph haul the sack that was attached to the rope onto shore. Hearing Rhia's exclamation, she notes the blood soaked into the sack grimly, and unknots the opening with some trepidation. The tools within are sinister - especially the knives and gag - but she is unsure what to make of them. She speaks vaguely, mainly just shuffling pieces of the puzzle around for her own benefit. "I presume these were used to dispose of some unfortunate, but why the shovel? Why not bury that merchant... or, if the graves have been opened ... it's only a little more to carry..."
She looks up grimly at the cleric and the medium, her features clearly showing her distaste with what she is about to ask. "Could you direct us if we wanted to open the emptied graves again without offending the dead? Or..."
She brushes a loose lock of hair from her face. "Whatever's going on here is beyond the Beast. He can have no motivation for grave-robbing, and what these poor villagers have that he could want... I wonder, though, if on a dark night, someone large enough, wearing a skin mask, could look like something stitched together?"
"Well, the Beast wouldn't need these tools. We have enough to get back to show someone else was operating here. Someone who was hurt and used equipment and probably magic to cause trouble. Wore a mask to appear like the beast."
Ereviss thinks they have done well here. He is ready to go back.
Christoph scowls, returning to Rhia's side and studying the graves more closely after hearing Rhia's exclamation, "I don't see it, but I had other things on my mind so it's possible I missed it. Bodies missing from graves never bodes well. We should be on guard."
At Skiia's urging, Christoph heaves on the rope, pulling it and its anchor from the depths of the marsh. He grunts in surprise at the weight of rope, but he quickly has the sack over the side. He grimaces at the sight of the blood-stained sack, but doesn't find the expected body on opening it. He carefully goes through the sack's contents, trying to make sense of what they had found, "Not sure what to make of this. A rope and a gag to bind and silence a man, knives to kill him, and a shovel to bury him. That paints a compelling story, but it's just speculation for the moment. The dwarf was a recent kill though, so I doubt he's tied up with the beast or the rest. Seems likely the manticore took him, though it doesn't explain why he was here in the first place A swamp doesn't seem like the kind of place a liquor merchant would be spending time."
"I'm not really one to be able to direct you in that, Skiia. My training focused on returning the restless dead to their rest and ensuring those who'd tamper with the Lady of Graves' domain face their judgement. What of you, Rhia? I know such a thing can be done respectfully, but I don't recall those prayers."
"On that we're agreed, the Beast isn't one to use tools, but it seems shaky without a more clear motive for whoever impersonated the Beast. It's strikes me as odd, though, that this supposedly holy ground for the villagers is so thoroughly blood-stained. It begs the question of who or what has been going on if the Beast didn't have anything to do with the death on this isle. Anyhow, without more of a lead there, I'm not sure we can exculpate the Beast."
Skiia bites her lip for a moment, then nods. "It's certainly unnerving, but I can't think of what more we can do at the moment that wouldn't be outrageously disruptive. We don't have much, but surely this is grounds for ... 'reasonable doubt,'" she says, trying to remember the snippets of legalese she's picked up from past projects.
"There are the other two places to visit, and depending on what we uncover there, we may be able to argue more strongly for the significance of what we've found here. In the worst case, we can come back."
"Could you direct us if we wanted to open the emptied graves again without offending the dead?”
studying the graves more closely after hearing Rhia's exclamation
When you check, you find the six graves are empty, the plain wooden coffins pried open and left behind.
Deductions: PCs examining the clues found above can
make the following deductions.
On showing what you found to the kids that poled you out here, they are clueless up until they see the facial mask.
"Hey! That's that Nowhere Nan guy! He trades with my da!" the older one said. The other one just stared morbidly at the detached face.
Her determination easily overcoming her trepidation about opening up the disturbed graves again, Skiia finds the physical labour provides enough distraction that her subconscious is able to do something in its own way. Although the graves themselves tell her nothing other than that whoever looted them was apparently interested in the whole bodies, it occurs to her, and she straightens up again to announce it, "It just struck me: we should hold onto the flask from the campsite. If the Beast is some sort of golem, as I think, then the same magic that animates him would sharpen his eyes - he wouldn't need a potion to see in the dark."
Hearing the increasingly restive children's comments on the things the others show them as she helps fill in the graves, finally, she hopes, Skiia files away the identification of the gruesome mask for later consideration. So, if the poor soul who that face belonged to disappeared since the attacks took place - one is tempted to speculate before they took place - that suggests timing that is rather too coincidental. An unrelated murder is one thing - but making a mask out of a victim in a place where an unidentified attacker has been active?
When the boys pole you back to the village of Morast, it is sunset. When you finally reach Lepidstadt in the coach it is close on Midnight.