"Try not to damage that skull that was behind the wall.
Do you think it might be the missing skull from the castellan? That ogre sorcerer was doing a ritual with the headless skeleton. Tamand Varias, that was the name."
Jarrek shrugs. "Nothing else back here. Was hoping there'd be a treasure room or something." He checks his axe for damage from the wall, rubbing out a scratch or a ding where he finds them.
Haftor frowns. "I'm pleasantly surprised that we didn't find any walled up bodies." He adjusts his belt and exhales. "Right then, I suppose it's the chapel next? There must be at least one more gruesome truth to uncover."
Jarrek looks around the room and gestures at the armoire. "We can throw her stuff in my backpack and worry about it later. Anybody look in there yet?"
Satisfied the worst is over, Trianne steps back into the hallway and calls to Umlo, “It’s all clear in here.”
As they move into the giantess’ chamber, she asks Umlo, “Can you tell us where the chapel’s located?”
She scans the room again, taking a quick glance under the beds, as the party sweeps it clean of anything noteworthy. She raises her hands in a ‘no thank you’ gesture when the skull makes its rounds, but she does attempt to detect if there are any magical auras emanating from it.
"I imagine we will want to bring the headless skeleton and this skull to the chapel."
Haftor nods at Kronug's suggestion, finding it reasonable.
Before they move off this level, he takes a peek out one the double doors that open onto what looks like a balcony. Can he tell if the courtyard below is deserted or not? If he feels he can step out and take a look around without raising some kind of alarm, he'll do so.
Umlo shakes his head. "I never got inside the walls."
Trianne detects no arcane auras on the skull.
From the balcony, Haftor can see a courtyard fairly littered with bodies--ogres, orcs, another hill giant, and a bear. The bodies are crowded with ravens and other carrion birds. The dwarf's eye is drawn to a set of oak double doors in the northwest corner of the courtyard that are barricaded from the courtyard side; although whatever the doors lead to is part of the outer fortress wall, in shape it appears to be a chapel.
Jarrek joins Haftor on the balcony and whistles at the carnage in the yard. "Looks like we took care of the Twisted Hearts."
Jarrek glances back at the door, considering. "What if we threw Grenseldek down there too, so all her people know for sure she's dead?"
Kronug shrugs. "You can if you want. Is there even anybody left to see it? Her head would do just as well."
Jarrek tosses the body that the party thinks is Grenseldek's over the edge of the balcony. It hits the ground with a wet thud, sending the carrion birds into the air with a chorus of aggrieved squawks. After a moment of silence they land again, returning to the buffet.
Jarrek laughs as the birds scatter and he turns back to his companions. "Well let's go down and see what's what."
Haftor would not normally condone desecration of a body this way, even of his enemy, an evil giant, but in this case he can see the value to potentially demoralize their opponents. He frowns slightly but says nothing.
Haftor is ready to go down to the ground level and head toward the chapel.
Seamus nods, following the others along toward what they suppose is the chapel. They all killed each other? Easier day for our heroes then! he beams. On the trip down Seamus consumes two elixirs - Barkskin and Heightened Awareness...
The oaken double doors to this area are barricaded from the outside. It's the work of a few seconds to tear down the barricade, though, revealing a warning painted on the doors in bright red letters in Giant and Orc: “Keep Out! Vengeful Spirit inside!”
On opening the doors, a grand vaulted chamber that has seen better days is revealed. Faded white paint peels from the dust-coated walls . Several sturdy pews sit in perfect rows facing west, where a simple altar sits upon a marble dais. Opposite the altar, a statue of a stern woman clad in full plate armor, brandishing a longsword and shield, stands vigil against the eastern wall of the room. A tangible sense of calm pervades the space.
“The oracle said that the spirit of Fabian Blix asked for us to go to him,” Trianne recounts and glances at Haftor. “The spirit realm is not my specialty. Do you want to take the lead on this, Haftor? Or are we trying to sweet talk the dead?” She glances Jarrek’s way at this last inquiry.
Haftor senses that the chapel hasn't been desecrated. If Fabian Blix was a paladin or cleric in life, he might respond well to displays of devotion--or at least respect, in the case of anyone who isn't a follower of Iomedae.
"Hrm." Haftor frowns in thought as he gets down on one knee and plants the head of his hammer on the floor.
The dwarf feels a slight pressure on his shoulder, as if someone was lightly resting their hand there. As soon as Haftor registers that, a spectral figure appears next to him. It's a human male in Iomedaean vestments over armor, a longsword sheathed at his side. "You and your companions are welcome in this holy place, sir. Rise, please. I have sensed something happening outside the chapel here, and an oracle has whispered to me that the time of my atonement may finally be coming to an end."
Kronug stands respectfully a short distance away, Gorum's Thorn held in both hands in front of him with the point resting on the ground.
Spirits and specters generally make him ill at ease, but he does respect servants of the Inheritor.
Haftor nods, getting to his feet. His manner of speaking has shifted to a solemn one that is reserved for sacred matters. "It is not my place to comment on your atonement; that is between you and the Lady of Valor. However, you might recognize this as perhaps your final opportunity to communicate to your living ancestors. Have you any message before you slip beyond the veil?"
"In life I was called Fabian Blix, priest of Iomedae. One of my children escaped the castellan's madness, and if the gods are kind he survived. As to my salvation, it is in your hands, sir. Hear my tale:
"Redlake was besieged by the orcs when they pushed south against Harchist's Blockade. By Iomedae's grace and the strength of our arms we held them off at first, but our food supplies dwindled and--surrounded by the orcs--we were cut off without hope of resupply. Tamand Varias, the castellan, came to me in secret with a terrible plan: he proposed to kill the remaining noncombatants in the keep and feed their bodies to the soldiers. He asked if he could be forgiven this grave sin, since it was in a noble cause. I couldn't believe it, and I advised him to surrender instead--turn the fort over to the orcs in exchange for our lives. Varias claimed that surrender would be suicide. He swore that he'd hold the fort regardless of the cost. When I told him the cost would likely be his soul, he struck me down. I became the first to go into the stewpot.
"Varias told the rest of the garrison that I'd been hoarding food in the chapel here, and that I'd fled when he found out. That was how he explained suddenly finding meat, when we were on the verge of boiling our own shoe leather for the meager sustenance it would offer. Meanwhile, I found that I was unable to pass to the Boneyard--my soul is bound to the chapel. I couldn't warn the garrison, but I was able to appear to my family in dreams. My wife foolishly confronted Varias about it...." He stifles a sob. "Ah, I miss her. I'm sorry. Even after so long, it's hard. Varias killed her, of course, and butchered her body as well. My sons went to escape through the middens. One fell and broke his neck, but the other won free of the fort.
"Meanwhile, Varias told the soldiers that their families were safe in the chapel, lying that their valor kept the families safe from the orcs. Ha! He killed them all himself, and with his own hands fed their bodies to their own flesh and blood.
"Eventually, though, the truth came out. The soldiers took Varias alive, tried him for his crimes, and entombed him alive behind a wall in the highest tower of the fort. But their morale was broken by the thought of what they'd done, and every one of them yearned privately for death. They didn't last long after that.
"Varias, though...he didn't come back as a spirit, like me, but his sin remained with his body, eventually permeating the very stones of the keep. As long as that stain remains, I too must stay here. The only way I know of that the mark of that sin can be removed is by the destruction of his body here, on the Inheritor's altar. I beg of you--if you know where his body lies, please bring it here and smash it."
The Kellid people are, as a whole, wary of spirits, curses, and the restless dead. Strength of arm and skill with a blade cannot battle an affliction of the soul - usually, anyway. Dealing with things like that is usually the responsibility of a shaman.
But Kronug has learned from his time among Iomedans in Lastwall, and he has become a bit more willing to confront such occult dangers.
"We have the skull."
He places it on the altar.
"I will go get the rest of the remains."
As the fortress now seems deserted, he is willing to go on his own, but he won't object if anyone else wants to go with him.
Jarrek stood to one side, uncharacteristically silent as the spirit relayed its horrible message. A child of Squirestone just outside Castle Everstand's gates, he understood the desperation of defenders facing a last stand but this was too much.
Once given their charge, he nods at Kronug. "I'll go with you. It seems like the chapel is safe from orcs and giants even if there are any left alive out there."
Trianne listens in cold silence as well, as Fabian recounts his harrowing tale. When he relays the fate of his wife, the transmuter turns her face away toward the main gate, her features tightening further. She makes no move to join the others as they head toward the castellan’s ritual site.
“Steer well clear of that cauldron,” she calls after them though. “And holler if you need aid. Or whisper if it better suits. The message spell is still working.”
She returns her attention to the spirit and says, “Priest Blix, while we wait, I expect it would please you to learn that your great-great-granddaughter, Calrianne Blix, serves as a protector of these lands and was instrumental in directing our efforts to reach this fort. We will convey your tale to her.”
The spirit smiles broadly. "She is? I mean, she does? I have a great-great-granddaughter? Ah, once again I'm in your debt."
Kronug and Jarrek return unmolested with the rest of the castellan's skeleton. At the specter's direction, the party places the bones on the altar with the skull and break them. The first few bones snap without apparent effect, but then the fragments start to vibrate on the stone. It's at this point that Kronug brings the flat of his sword down on the skull, crushing it into pieces. Through the open doors of the chapel comes a moan that rises to a shriek, abruptly cut off. As the echoes die away, Blix smiles once again, staring off at something none of you can see. "Free...after so long! Thank you, and go with the Inheritor's blessing." He fades into light, rising into the air and disappearing. In the silence that follows, the party realizes two things: the background sense of evil that had filled the fort has gone, and there's a secret compartment in the statue of Iomedae.
The compartment holds a necklace with a sword and sunburst design that Trianne eventually determines is a glory medallion. The item only benefits Iomedaeans with the ability to channel positive energy, but will doubtless be valuable to one of them.
Haftor, stoic to a fault, remained silent throughout the ritual. He finally allowed a grim smile as Blix's spirit faded away, raising his hammer in salute. He had heard many gruesome tales of desperation in his years as a servant of Torag, and of the things men would do to their fellow men when pushed. None were more horrifying and tragic than the story he just heard. He intoned a silent prayer that Blix's spirit might, at long last, finally find peace.
Jarrek nods. "Well that's a story to tell. Might need to leave out the cannibalism, but then again maybe not- people love a good gory story."
If I read this right, you guys will be meeting up with Roshelle in Castle Firrine. Is that right?
The party returns by boat to Castle Firrine, where it takes a few days to sell the various items. The news of Grenseldek's demise is indeed welcome news, as is the survival of the oracle and at least some of the orcs. Ingrahild and Umlo's reunion is a shocking (to Haftor) display of emotion--the pair clasp hands for a long minute, smiling wordlessly at each other. Neither of them object to the party going after their illustrious ancestor's tomb, under the condition that their source be remembered. "For it's right and proper that they be used again in this time, but we would have his name be honored for aiding in the mighty deeds you'll surely accomplish."
Svarog sent a message asking for arcane assistance, and Trianne elected to travel ahead of the party to join him. "Maybe I'll see you again in the Mindspin Mountains. Good luck with the tomb!"
As your caravan crosses into Belkzen, though, you encounter another trading party leaving. The leader doesn't look too happy--"The town is in bad shape. They turned aside a major attack, and no one there wanted to buy anything that they'd trade with the local tribes. That's half my wares they wouldn't touch. If you've got tools and building materials, though, expect to get a good price." Fortunately, that's the bulk of what the traders you're with have.
To make a long story short, the town really is in bad shape, and your healing skills are in great demand. You learn that the hammer was indeed under Trunau--"was" being the operative word here. A group of adventurers followed the mastermind behind the invasion into the tomb and killed him, recovering the hammer and taking it with them when they went after the giant who had ordered it. She (the giant) had come to the same conclusion that you did, and was willing to wipe out the town to get the hammer.
The adventurers took a trading vessel further into the Hold, but if they succeeded they'd be returning to Trunau. Rather than try to follow their trail on your own, you elect to wait for a bit. There's a mute elf druid who's a reasonable conversationalist once you refresh your memory of the sign language he uses, and the days pass. Then one day a watcher on the walls shouts "THEY'RE BACK!"
Kronug will seek out Dame Blix if she is still at Castle Firrine.
Should he find her, he relates the tale.
"The spirit of your great-great-grandfather, Fabian Blix, priest of Iomedae, told us of a great evil that transpired at Redlake Keep, and how your great-grandfather escaped. Fabian Blix was a man of honor, and his honor kept him in service to the Inheritor even after his death. He was able to tell us how to lift a curse on the Keep, which we did."
He offers the full story if asked, but only if asked.
"It is my hope that as Lastwall retakes territory the Keep will again be held by warriors such as your ancestor."