Ereviss pulls out a large book with expensive, thick pages and engraved with gold lettering. On the book is a picture of the town of Ravengro with the forbidding prison dominating the center.
He turns to a page titled 'Dramatis Personas', and your name is listed there. He recounts the brave sacrifice of the professor to return to the prison to help a young boy. Accounts say a gargoyle fell on him and killed him, but that seems somewhat farfetched. The professor had chased a society of necromancers and braved strange lands. How could he just carelessly be the victim of loose masonry?
As the elven bard reads your names, you find his magic overtake you.
He solemnly hands each of you a potion that is a minor curative to heal injuries.
"We head back to the prison to find the other maniacs who terrorize the living from beyond the grave and save a town."
The young bard gravely puts a few sets of enchanted arrows in specially marked quivers on his back and opens a copper board that is said to commune with the spirits. "Who would like to ask a question of the spirits before we return? It may be beneficial to have some protection magic before communing with the unhappy spirits."
Domminia happily trots back to the manor after upgrading her weapons to masterwork quality.
During Erviss' seance, Domminia asks Theodoric "You don't happen to know any of the spirits he's talking to?
Theodoric Knowledge Planes
Jevault glances from the board to the bard, a dark look flashing briefly across his eyes.
"The chances of you getting a truthful answer from the spirits of this accursed place are minimal.", he utters, with little humour in his voice and his tone leaving no-one in any doubt as to his disapproval. There's a palpable sense that his brusque answer stems from something that is more than just fear.
His gaze still upon the bard, the dhampir awaits a response.
The bard puts away the spirit board.
"Well, let's just go to and get the answers ourselves. Off to the prison. I wouldn't want to offend anyone before starting our adventure today."
He smiles at Kendra: "I have equipped myself much better. I can help so much more now."
"I am ready."
Agrimar emerges from his room fully armored. After a night spent in prayer and communion with the Inheritor, his demeanor seems infused with grim determination. A feeling that those in his immediate vicinity seem to acquire themselves.
As the paladin enters the room, Jevault offers his divine brother-in-arms a slight nod.
Standing, he shrugs his fire-blackened breastplate into a comfortable position and tightens up the remaining few straps, slides his morning star into his belt and, as a final action, hangs the holy symbol of his Goddess - Pharasma - around his neck, allowing it to remain in view.
Crossing the room to the bard, he growls a quiet "Thank you." - his eyes indicating the spirit board - before affirming his readiness to the group.
Ysabot shrugs on her pack, stretching her aching body. "I'm ready to leave," she yawns, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Perched on one shoulder, Persimmon also yawns before slinking into the open backpack. The witch gives her brother a small smile and a nod. "Shall we?"
"Perhaps Ms. Kendra should remain here. We would not be honoring her father's wishes to let her return to such a place."
Dommminia looks at Agrimar and says, "I knew her father quite well and he would like his daughter to have a finger in this pie."
"It was his last wish for us to keep her safe and sound." Agrimar's brow furrows, giving his face a darker cast, "He knew us all well enough to bequeath that trust and know it would be upheld."
"Well, we have found a side entrance. We can use it again."
Ereviss finishes packing.
"I think she is a very capable young woman who is an asset and valuable member of the team and got my, Theodoric and Ereviss' bacon out of the fire more than once"she says.
Then she moves over to Agrimar and says in a slightly lower voice, "It is much easier to keep her safe if we can keep an eye on her, if we leave her here, who knows what will happen... All kinds of macabre stuff has been happening as of late, all we really need is to find she was kidnapped while we were away..."
"No place safer than behind a paladin I would say. Unless you would rather me consult the spirit board for this question."
The twinkle in Ereviss' eyes probably mean he is joking, but then maybe he is not.
"We will be busy enough in Harrowstone looking after our own hides. We could leave her with the Sheriff, or Father Grimburrow..." Agrimar looks to the other party members for support.
"And, since a magic-user will be in danger, we should probably leave Ysabot behind too, since she it will be dangerous and she would need looking after?"
Ereviss shrugs, "Your chivalry is appreciated, but I think the ladies can take care of themselves. I will have to introduce you to my mother some day."
Domminia smiles and says, "Alright, Kendra grab your ruck, we're going to the prison."
She then turns to Agrimar, "we're burning daylight here and well the more we mess around talking to the POlice or the ClEARgy, the longer it takes us to put down the things afflicting the great hamlet of Ravengrow...."
With that Domminia and Theodoric walks out the front door whistling a tune from Lastwall.
When read in detail:
This journal is penned by a man named Sefick Corvin.
A farmboy runaway, he fell in with a carnival crowd and traveled all over Varisia, Taldor and Ustalav as a barker, selling what he could to anyone who would listen. It turned out that it was run by a Sczarni gang who put him to work as a con man, and he discovered his calling. He started playing street preachers, conning the faithful out of alms and donations. When things got too hot, they would travel on to the next town and change to another faith.
The journal goes on, year after year of scams recorded. Snake oil potions, llusionary healing, false miracles accomplished by corrupted sorcerers.
The last part was written in prison. He last great scam had them take over a cathedral of Nethys in Riddleport, but they were caught by an archmage halfway through. They killed six of the gentlemen of the watch trying to escape, but were captured. The gangsters were executed, but his many and vast crimes he was technically innocent of murder and only sentenced to Harrowstone for life. His last entries indicate he was working on the warden, trying to convince him of his innocence and hopefull of escaping his fate.
Ereviss has no time to read the journal yet. He joins the group for the reassault on the prison. The elf has managed to restock his E.C. embroidered monagrammed pocket handkerchiefs.
Kendra glowers at Agrimar from the doorway to the hall as he suggests leaving her behind.
"I am NOT staying behind while you knuckleheads look for my fathers killers!"
She shoves him aside as she grabs Ereviss' hand and her pack.
"Come on Ereviss." She calls out as she drags him out the front door into the early morning grey.
Walking out the front door, you are again in the early morning grey light. The village of Ravengro is dark and silent around you.
Walking south and passing over the bridge, you turn south along the main road. Despite it being morning, the overcast sky barely lightens.
As you pass by the temple of Pharasma, you catch a glimpse of what looks like Father Grimburrow looking grimly down upon you from an upper story window, before he closes a shutter.
As you continue south, the morning fog closes in on you again, it’s cold and clammy presence reducing your visiblility to thirty feet.
About a mile later an overgrown roadway turns West, eventually leading to the base of a barren hill. The track winds around the base of the hill and then back up along its southern slope to the top.
Looming out of the fog, you see a sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers that once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
In large rusting wraught iron lettering, the words “HARROWSTONE ROYAL PRISON” are emblazoned over the twenty foot wide entryway.
The stone wall that surrounds most of the prison grounds is covered with creeping ivy, and the blocks beneath that growth are eroded. The walls themselves are 20 feet high and stretch out of sight left and right.
With an outstretched hand, the Dhampir quietly signals for the group to halt. Crossbow ready, he strides forward, stopping just short of the gate, and, dropping to a knee, peers into the fog. With the party behind him, none of them would see his eyes take on a darker cast as he activates his divine sight, scanning the courtyard for evidence of the living dead.
Listening to your senses, you hear the chilling sound of chains being dragged across a stone floor....
It's so unspecific, so nebulous, you think it's a Haunt. And Close.
Agrimar draws his falchion and steps to the fore, just behind Jevault.
Ysabot glances across at her brother and moves, standing slightly behind him and to his side. "You got the creeps, too? Or am I the only one?" she murmurs, absent-mindedly scratching Persimmon's ears.
Persimmon flicks her ears and turns sharply to look behind Ysabot.
Ereviss draws his shortbow.
"I think this will be an improvement over my rapier. Skeletons weren't very impressed with my fencing skills. Hard to hurt bones with a delicate weapon."
Ereviss points to the side entrance they used last time.
"I would say continue to enter up through there. The front door seems like the obvious entrance to guard."
"Six of one half dozen of the other," says Domminia with her general spunk.
"You are not the only one,"Agrimar says, under his breath to Ysabot.
"Elf, get one of those haunt siphons ready, now. We're not alone."
His eyes still straining to see into the wall of white, Jevault brings the stock of his repeating crossbow up to a shoulder, not knowing if it will be of any use against whatever is hiding in the mist.
You wait, but nothing jumps out at you. You don't hear or see anything approach you; but you don't feel alone. The tension is as thick as the fog.
Peeking through the bars of the gate, you see the pathway lead away towards the invisible bulk of the decaying prison.
When you pass through the gate, nothing as dramatic happens as last time.
You hear a CRASH behind you!
It's just the wind closing the gate, then opening it again. Of course it's the wind; what else could it be?
Domminia says, "Let's go in the front door!"
"Shall Jevault and I enter first?"
"I suggest we take the same route as last time. We know what to expect and, once we're in, it'll give us some time to attune to our surroundings."
Jevault pauses for a second, in thought.
"To make everyone aware, my kind doesn't respond to positive energy in the way that most mortal races do. Whereas it heals you, it will harm me."
Having spoken, the dhampir looks at each of the group individually, to ensure his message is understood.
"I won't go anywhere without you, Brother," Ysabot mutters. At Jevault's statement, she nods. "That complicates matters slightly."
"The old route it is then,"Agrimar says, looking at Jevault in a new light, or shadow, as it were.
Domminia glibly responds, "So to heal you do we need to give you poison?"
For the briefest of moments, Jevault's countenance softens slightly.
"Poison affects me as it would any other mortal."
The dark eyes of the dhampir flick across to Agrimar before he continues.
"For now, let me deal with my own wounds."
To date, Jevault has answered any questions aimed at him, his replies always being frank. For him to be so evasive now suggests that the truth may not be appreciated by those present.
"We should go.". And with that, he turns and sets off in the direction of the executioners block and the way into the prison, moving purposely but slowly, his gaze everywhere.
The elf strolls through the prison as if he owns the place. Not a single bit of concern touches his face or his voice as he talks:
"With this show of force, we should be even more prepared. So my healing wand would harm you as it has harmed the skeletons I touched with it, interesting. I will remember that. Let us see if we can find some clues about these horrid prisoners and dispatch these evil forces for good."
You proceed up the overgrown carriageway and deeper into the mist.
After travelling some 50 yards, you see a two-story stone building looms out of the grey fog in the center of the prison grounds.
Ivy and moss cling tenaciously to the walls, while above the wooden shingles of the roof are often missing entirely, exposing the wooden rafters of the upper structure to the grey sky. Here and there, leering stone gargoyles perch on the eaves, once functioning as drain spouts and decorations but now seeming almost to serve a more ominous role of sentinels. Many of these stone decorations have crumbled away and lie in ruined piles on the soggy ground below. Windows in the building’s facade are narrow and blocked by grills of rusty iron bars. Stone columns support a slumping wooden balcony over the building’s wooden front doors, both of which hang askew and reveal dark glimpses of chambers within.
Avoiding the front door, you retrace your steps and skirt the building around to the left.
Despite herself, Kendra grips Erevis' hand tightly and crowds against him.
Your Undead sense has been sensing undead energy all around you since you passed through the gates. It's maddeningly diffuse though; there is no way to pinpoint a source. And it's worse now that you've come near the main building itself. Sometimes you feel like the undead are moving around, and there are terrifying moments when it feels like they're right behind you!
Both Fengring and Ereviss notice something peculiar about the foundation; the ivy and grass have been cleared along the edge where the foundation meets the ground.
Kneeling down for a closer look, you see along this edge a series of sinuous runes has been etched and then smeared with blood. Looking down the line, you see the runes stretch out of sight left and right around the mansion.
The runes themselves are written in Varisian, and among numerous magical incantations, repeat the name Lyvar Hawkran dozens of times.
The runes seem to have been part of a larger ritual that involved both abjuration and necromantic magic.
Moving around the building to the northwest, you again climb the stairway to the execution platform.
When you reach the top of the stairway, no spectres jump out at you, but...
The executioners scythe. It is whole now, leaning against the execution block.
Beyond it, the condemned portal that you used to enter before, is yawning wide open.
Ysabot notices Persimmon's habits, and frowns slightly. She follows his gaze and frowns again. "What's so interesting over there?" she asks softly, scratching the cat's ears. She looks at the portal and takes a deep breath. "Well. Shall we?"
"Can anyone decipher those runes? Looks like Varisian. If not, we should copy them, to study back at the house."
The mention of language draws attention to that of the dhampir; whilst he speaks Common, the more-widely travelled of those hearing him recognise the phrases & expressions found in Skald, the language of those inhabiting the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Present, too, are the richness of voice and the chant-like qualities of the same northern tongue.
----------------
Jevault steps up beside Ereviss. They face the now-restored scythe.
"If we're to continue to use this way as a route in, we need to still that scythe permanently. I don't want to keep having to fight it each time we pass."
The Inquisitor drops to a knee and surveys the area ahead of him, eyes narrowed, lips pressed firmly together; the working of his mind evident on his face.
"Maybe the block." he opines. He's thinking out loud, rather than talking to anyone in particular.
Jevault continues to examine the scene for a while longer before turning to Ysabot. "What's up with the cat?"
Agrimar studies the runes around the base.
"I cannot ken their meaning."
"These runes involve necromancy and abjuration. Some ward may be in place here."
Domminia and Theodoric stand guard looking for any signs of trouble and she says, "What's the sitrep, over?"
Though you cannot be absolutely sure.
Knowledge Religion
Knowledge Arcana
Domminia says, "Alright folks we done beat the scythe yesterday and it may come back but it is unlikely, however, we can circumvent another confrontation by skirting around the edge of the execution platform and walk into the portal that way, so how you feel about that?" gritting her teeth in dismay. Her barely decipherable halo flickers with this.
"Excellent idea, let's do it."
Ereviss gestures to the paladin.
"Evil should not be able to hide from you. I hear you can spot evil auras at will. Should keep us from being surprised. Anyway, you heard the lady, just be careful."
The group grimly moves into the structure, some for the first time, but none of them taking it lightly.
Jevault allows the group to pass him then falls into step at the rear, his eyes everywhere.
"If Agrimar is having the same trouble I am, then the overwhelming evil around here is making his sense all but useless.", he announces.
"Aye, the very air reeks of it." Agrimar looks from Ereviss to Jevault.
"I will do what I can."