"Hsst...did any of you see that? It's something moving I'm after seeing there--small, though."
"Small - like an undead child?" Eloise asks, her voice grim.
Soft giggling can be heard behind the house.
"How are you with children, Sour Heck?"
“Ellsa?” Sour Heck calls. “Rachel? Karin?” He waits after every name to see if there’s a response. “Allen? Gaard? Maartin?”
“They’re playing with us,” Sour Heck guesses. “Hide and seek. Not the game we want to play--too much pouncing and screaming ‘You’re it!’ But if they’re lonely, maybe they’ll come out to play a different game.”
Sour Heck pulls the Society into a huddle a short distance from the house and outlines a plan. Assuming he can convince them to try it, he has Peredur fetch, place, and with leaves conceal the trap. Then the bard coats its jaws with ghost salts. Hissing a slithery whisper, Sour Heck makes a gesture like a drunken puppetteer, causing a short stick to drift through the air at his direction, dipping down to wait by the trap.
“Nock an arrow, Peredur, one of salted ones. All you ladies join hands, but leave a space in the ring for a child to come join you. Remember, the song is a cheerful old Ustalavic children’s rhyme about dying horribly, so try to sound like you’re really having fun. You know the words?”
“Ring around the rosie,
Pockets full of posies,
Atchoo, atchoo,
We all fall down!”
Heck leads the song, but stands apart from the dance with Peredur, watching for a small shadow in the sunshine crossing from the house towards the ring, ready to use his spell to toss the stick and trigger the trap.
Talia quickly Wards Peredur before putting her hands out to join in a circle. Barely heard mumbles come from her mouth in what almost sounds like spellcasting, but is instead a string of grumbles and cursing about looking foolish before an untimely end by undead ankle-biters.
Kieli keeps a close watch and bobs his head in mirth at his mistress's complaining.
After a few cycles of the group's rhyme, a small child's face appears around the corner of the building. Looking somewhat diminished and quite pale in the later afternoon light, the child appears intrigued by the group's antics, and takes a few cautious feet forward.
Failing to notice the trap in time, the small child stumbles into it.
As the jaws clamp shut on the child's legs, he can be seen quite visibly wracked in pain and lets out a horrendous howl -- half child, half banshee-like in it's quality.
Eloise grimaces.
"That kid had better be a shade," she mutters, "because if we lured a live child into that horrible thing, we'll be doing penances 'till year's end!"
Peredur knows with quite some certainty that this "child" appears unnatural and very ghost-like. The rest of the group would also quite likely suspect an undead spirit.
Sour Heck moves cautiously towards the phantom child, stopping well outside its reach, and leans on his spear. "Hello, little one. Got your foot stuck, didn't you, poor thing? Well...answer a couple of questions, and I swear by the Grey Lady that we'll release you."
"What's your name? How did you die? Have you ever seen a tall, tall man made of pieces all wired together? Do you know Ellsa?"
He studies the figure carefully, trying to guess if it (he? she?) is actually caught in the trap or just shamming.
The child turns toward Sour and its face and body twists, as if consisting completely of smoke. The outline of its body throwing cinders and ash as if wreathed in some sort of black fire.
It screams in an unholy voice, at once distant and tortured, "He made me. I was once Allen, but now I am his. Elsa is also one of his. I have not seen a man made of pieces.". After a brief stare at Sour, it turns back and crouches, grabbing his ankle where the trap appears to have a solid hold. The wreath of dark fire dissipates some, and his features focus slightly, more akin to those of the little boy. "Please, let me go".
"And who is he, child?" Eloise asks from where she stands, sword still resting against her shoulder. "Has he a name? And why did he do this thing to you and the other children?"
“Answer her, Allen, and I swear by the Grey Lady, by the waters of birth and death, we’ll release you.”
Peredur steps back, nocking one of the ghost salted arrows and preparing to fire. "Heed th' man, Allen."
"Little one, please. Let us help you and your friends. Tell us about him so we can set you free."
Iesha kneels, to better communicate with the child, trying to hold back tears while resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.
Eloise notices nothing approaching at the moment.
"Promise! Promise!", the boy grunts as the dark fire returs intensely to surround his small form.
"He'll like you. You should go see him! His name is Brother Swarm, and he's not afraid of you. He'll free you. Make you like us. Go join him.", he says, snickering to look at each of you. He then turns and points southwest towards a low hill.
"Now free me!" he screams, his form suddenly darkening and turning quite wispy.
Peredur releases the arrow, which flies true and tears through the wraithspawn's form.
“You heard him, heroes...set him free.” The bard’s voice turns ironic. “I’ve only been in court once and already I’m twisting words like a barrister. It’s like being bitten by a vampire, but worse.”
Iesha shudders, then, closing her eyes, channels to harm undead.
"Nisil vivens, nisil mors, silens es!" Eloise incants as she levels her hand at the wraith-child, and a beam of golden light lances out to stab it in the chest. "Be free, then... in Pharasma's arms," the Chelishwoman says, her face pale and drawn.
Talia appears saddened at the fate of the young child, but determined to see it on its way into the next life.
party initiative
Iesha
Peredur
Sour Heck :12
Talia
Eloise
Peredur's arrow flies, striking the child fully in the chest. The little boy begins to frantically twist and turn, trying to pry the jaws of the trap open. A loud wail emanates from his lips, seemingly turning the air all around the group chilly.
Initiative
Eloise
Child (acted)
Iesha
Sour Heck
Peredur
Talia
Iesha and Eloise both begin their incantations as Sour Heck inspires courage in the group.
Peredur may act again this round, and Talia may continue her action as she can see the child is still working feverishly.
hp=19
Peredur puts another treated arrow into the noncorporeal child, grimacing in distaste--whether at the task, or the evil that made it necessary, is not clear.
"Nisil mors, nisil vivens, silens es!" Eloise chants, unleashing another ray of positive energy at the undead child. Tears are running down her pallid cheeks. "Sorry... I am so sorry..."
Iesha starts to channel again, then stops, instead pulling out her crossbow and firing a salted bolt at the poor child.
for
edit: adding buffs & banner; correcting my BaB.
As Iesha's crossbow bolt slams into the young boy's chest, he begins to wail and scream and the black fire around his body burns brightly for a second. Just as quickly as the black fire flares, it diminishes to nothing and the boy's form begins to evaporate, as though it were a cloud. His wailing quickly fades to silence.
As the boy's form dissipates, the clouds seem to loom darker and more ominous - the late afternoon seems almost as night. The wind now turns quite chill.
The boy is quite dead, only tattered clothes remain where his form once was.
Peredur packs up the clothing reverently, murmuring a prayer for the boy under his breath. Once finished, he straightens. "It's finding the others we should be after doing. Let's pack along th' trap, since't worked so well."
"After all that din, I'd be amazed if they didn't already know we're here," Eloise says. "It'll be very lucky if we can catch even one more..."
The Chelishwoman looks around, clearly apprehensive.
Sour Heck uses the butt of his longspear to prod the earth where the wraith child burnt away, wide-eyed with morbid curiosity.
“From the look of those clouds, I imagine the game we’re playing just changed. The wraiths will be doing the looking and catching now.”
“I think we should start looking for a church and graveyard. If it’s still holy ground, we’ll have better luck against these children there. If it’s been desecrated, maybe we’ll find Allen’s Brother Swarm there--sounds like a fallen churchman to me. If we destroy him, won’t that set the children free?”
“Also, if we go where the children are buried, maybe we’ll find some evidence to take back to court. Right now all we have is a ghost story. I want to see Eloise’s grave in particular--the trial aside, we owe Andrew an explanation of her death. Maybe he’d appreciate it if we gathered some wildflowers on the way to lay by her stone.”
The bard nods to Peredur. "I'll salt the trap again, if you'll carry it."
Peredur shakes his head. "It's remembering I am from my studies that when th' wraith is slain, its spawn come into th' fullness of their power. Unlike th' weak creature we just put down."
"So unless they retain enough of their old selves to let us put them to rest, we might be unleashing a plague of the unquiet dead," Eloise says, grimacing. "Not a very cheerful prospect. Do we have enough haunt siphons for all of them?"
"Back up...did I say I want to see Eloise's grave? I meant Ellsa's. Not that I don't expect you to have a perfectly lovely grave, Eloise. Pretty soon now, too, I imagine. Of course, I'll be too dead to appreciate it. Hopefully."
"Th' likes of us are lucky when we get graves, Sour Heck. Lovely or elsewise." Peredur picks up the trap and scans the town, looking for likely spots for undead infestations.
"I'll be better off than the guy who puts me in my grave," Eloise says. "'Cause he'll be lying in a ditch."
As you look at the road to the south, you see what at first appears to be a fallen scarecrow lying at the side of the path, bones jutting from its tattered rags.
To the west, in roughly the center of town (where many roads meet) the sisters indicated a chapel.
Well to the south, next to the lake, the sisters indicated that the "Beast" probably once laired there.
The cutting winds bring the smell of rain.
Sour Heck passes the map around the group. “There, a chapel. Unless someone objects, let’s go there quick. Peredur can keep an eye out for more snap traps; now that we know what we’re looking for, the rest of us can watch for wraiths. If we don’t find the evidence we’re looking for there, maybe we’ll find some in the Beast’s lair.”
"Well enough," Eloise says. She lowers her sword, putting it in ready position. "Let's do what we can."
"Yon scarecrow has a dree look to it. It's wanting I am to set closer eyes on it."
"I agree. Though this whole place is giving me the chills..."
As the group travels west, toward the center of Hergstag and the chapel, they will pass a small house, apparently empty inside and showing signs of disrepair. The sky darkens considerably as thick, ominous clouds seemingly fly overhead and threaten rain.
Upon reaching the center of the village, they will find a small, whitewashed timber building, surrounded by gravestones.
The chapel appears to be dedicated to Desna, and a cursory glance will reveal that some of the windows appear smashed.
Iesha looks at the fallen 'scarecrow' and shudders.
"I think we've learn not to poke at dead things. Still, Peredur, if you think we should check it out..."
Upon reaching the chapel, she studies the decaying building carefully.
"Is it still consecrated?"
Peredur leans over the apparent scarecrow and grimaces. "'Tis a body, and been here some time." He pokes around it, then straightens. "It's thinking I am that 'twas a thief, come to pilfer what he could from th' abandoned village. Eloise, Talia--can you tell if he had aught of magic about him?"