DM Corvus' Carrion Crown PBP (Inactive)

Game Master CorvusRed

"Big Four, for now. It's troubled I am by th' thought of facing another of those spirits we fought in th' hospital, as well."

"What, the Poltergeist?" Eloise asks. "That one didn't trouble me so much. Didn't call any pets, didn't do anything but chuck normal stuff about... Sure, it could kill a body, but only one that didn't turn and run."

“Does this town have an alchemist?” Sour Heck asks.

“Might be we could swap some of the stuff we found in the infirmary for oils and salts we could use against spirits.”

He yawns hugely. “Can’t really do any shopping until tomorrow, though. Good night. Try not to think about anything too terrifying in the darkness, right before you go to sleep.”

Sour Heck's yawn seems to be catching, as Talia follows suit. "Tomorrow sounds good, for sleep sounds wonderful. Meet everyone in the morning to break our fast and discuss our plans?"

Is Kieli on duty to follow Gibs?

After I commune in the morning, yes. He'll follow at a discreet distance and just watch, not get in the way or anything. :)

The morning finds Sour Heck curled up by Kendra‘s hearth, still paging through On Verified Madness. He’s dug a crust of stale black bread from his pack, and is using it to mop cold grease from her pans into his mouth as he reads.

“If it weren’t so deathly dry, this book might almost be interesting. Listen to this: there was a Azlantian cult that claimed to have a secret that proved that reality was empty and meaningless and absurd, nothing but a pointless joke. Says here that anyone they told this secret would fall into paroxysms of what they called the Hideous Laughter...laughing until they fell dead.”

Sour Heck turns the page and reads the sanity-destroying punchline to himself, lips moving silently, then arches an eyebrow skeptically. “Huh. Guess you had to be there.”

Peredur has another bite to eat before bed, and is asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Iesha sings a hymn and prepares her spells before retiring.

The morning dawns cold. Frost clings to the panes of the windows of Kendra's house, as winter itself clings to the land, unable to relent it's grip just yet, it would seem. The sky is pale blue, with few clouds drifting east from the mountains.

Kendra is getting to be an old hand at breakfast. It is waiting on the table and warm when the party finally stirs, but of the late professor's daughter, there is no sign to be found.

While eating, Peredur jots a short note to Kendra:

Mistress Kendra,

While we are exploring Harrowstone and if you have the time, please look through your father's notes for references to haunt siphons and their crafting.

Thank you,

Peredur

He takes a few minutes to help clean up after breakfast, then dons his armor. "Time we were away. First th' rope, then th' prison?"

Iesha nods. "Yes. Rope, then the prison. Maybe we should get several lengths, too. Just to be safe."

Sour Heck considers the locked chest with Professor Lorrimar’s forbidden books in it, shrugs, and puts On Verified Madness on top of it. He considers a moment, then drapes a blanket to hide them both.

“These cold mornings...I can feel everything stiffening up.” The bard stretches his arms over his head, then winces. “Iesha, will you check these bandages? I swear these bites hurt more now than last night,” he complains.

Iesha, could I ask you to do a Heal check on Sour Heck for one night’s long-term care? That should put me at just about full hit points. We each get 2 HP and 1 ability point back for a night’s sleep, if I understand the rules correctly, but 4 HP and 2 ability points each if you nurse us.

Satisfied that he’s not bleeding to death under the wound dressings, Sour Heck pulls on his boots, coat and pack. The bloodstains and tears down his front of his clothes have completely vanished, replaced by a uniform layer of road dust. He gathers up his weapons, peers out a window, and shudders.

“You realize the water in that hole will be absolutely freezing? It's going to be a race to see if we die of chills or under the blades and hammers of murderous spirits.”

Iesha nods and checks Sour Heck's injuries.

Heal: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29

"It looks like you're a fast healer, Sour Heck. I wish all my companions healed that well. Oh, and by the way, does anyone else want me to check them before we leave? If we need to, it might be best to ask Father Grimburrow to heal any remaining injuries, so that I can save my cures for emergencies in the prison."

The general store is just opening as the party arrives. A beautiful and ornate set of plate armor stands in the window, and a sign reading Ravengro General Store suggests little in the way of creativity in the owners. The store itself, run by a tired-looking married couple and constantly noisy due to their five daughters, suggests that perhaps the couple had more pressing business than coming up with a catchy name for their business.

"Best you do th' talking, Sour Heck. At times I have trouble following th' Ustalav accent."

“Shopkeep! Two fifty-foot lengths of rope stout enough to hang myself with, and a grappling hook without too much rust on it. These heroes are headed to the dungeons beneath the old prison to lift the doom from this town, or die trying."

Sour Heck pauses.

“Just between us, I’d put my money on ‘die trying’, so we’re perfectly prepared to pay cash up front.” He slaps two gold pieces down on the counter. “I’ll expect change back from that, unless you can throw in one of those pulleys blocking your shelves back there.”

the shopkeeper regards Heck for a long moment, then appraises his coins.

"Find those coins' third sister and the lot is yours." He grins. "Special discount for those that saved the life of my wife, and number six."

the shopkeeper-ess is indeed astonishingly pregnant. She leans against the wall, knitting another onesie with practiced hands.

"Which one of you fine lasses wants my sixth daughter to bear your name?" she asks with a smile.

“I can see how you folks conceived the notion that third sisters are easy to come by,” says Sour Heck, adding a third gold coin to the counter, “But I’ll go along, if you’ll toss in a couple of pitons and a promise that if that child’s a girl, you won’t name her Peredur.”

Sour Heck eyes the lady shopkeeper’s condition a moment, then sighs and brings out his final gold coin.

“Make that four pitons, and keep the change to buy number six a name too.”

"I wouldn't put you to the trouble, good lady," Eloise says, chuckling. "These two ladies have far nicer-sounding names than mine, and I've only been here a day. But please accept my thanks for your generous gift of the rope and tools. We'll try and put them to good use."

"My name is Talia, good sir, and this is Iesha. While I'd not speak for my companion, I would be honored to have a child named after me, and it was our pleasure to help however we could in saving lives." Talia curtsies politely and smiles.

Iesha nods. "I would be honored as well, good lady."

The keeper adds the additional pitons with a nod. "Many thanks, friend. your business is most welcome here at any time."

"Oh such lovely names. Our new daughter will have much to live up to." She smiles kindly. "But don't let us keep you from your duty. Go and be well."

Any other shopping to do today?

Sunrods and holy water? The more sunrods we have, the less we need to rely on casting cantrips in the heat of combat.

I think we already have a few sunrods from the false crypt.

ETA: Nope, we got nothing.

If there's an alchemist, Sour Heck would like to try to swap stuff we found in the infirmary (about 300 gp worth: a healing kit, 2 x bloodblock, 2 x antivenom, 2 x smelling salts, 2 x soothe syrup) for some ghost salt weapon blanch.

That would leave us with a healer's kit for Talia (Iesha has one already), and 1 each of bloodblock, antivenom, and smelling salts, which Iesha can keep on hand.

Talia would like to pick up a staff, of the quarter variety, if at all possible...

you can add it to your character. I'm sure Kendra has something like that lying around for Talia's use.

The party leaves the General store, trailing daughters. The five giggle and laugh as they follow their new heroes a short ways, the youngest clinging fiercely to Heck's hand. Then the oldest pipes up "Off to Alendru's for school now!" and the five daughters vanish around the corner.

Jominda's Apothecary is the next stop, a small store, full of vials and ingredients hanging from the ceiling. Jominda herself is a pleasant looking woman on the back end of youth. She greets the party warmly as they enter.

“Greetings, good apothecary! We understand the recent violence in the town has driven up demand for medical supplies. Given that things will get worse before they get better--if they ever get better--we thought you might like to replenish your stock.“

Sour Heck lines up supplies from the infirmary on the apothecary’s counter. He’s polished the bottles and boxes to a new-minted shine with his kerchief and a spot of Prestidigitation.

“As it happens, we don’t even want to take your coin. These heroes are on their way to face the horrible doom beneath the old prison on this village’s behalf. Is that a dusty old box of ghost salts I spot on your shelves? We’d be willing to trade these supplies for your help in applying it to some of our weapons.”

The bard surveys the bottles behind the counter.

“You know, that’s a pretty good deal for you...Perhaps you’d be willing to throw in Oil of Bless Weapon or Oil of Magic Weapon to balance the scales?”

"Aye, I will certainly get more from such goods than from this." She slides salts across the counter to Heck. "Sadly, I cannot help with the second requests. A list of the alchemy I can muster is on the wall there. Any one is yours for your service to the town and your generous trade."

The list itself is printed on fine paper, with an elegant flowing script:

“Negates all scents, you say? Well...the person I’m thinking of is about to splash around in thigh-deep lakewater for a time, which should make up for many missed baths, so mystical measures probably aren’t necessary. Might be back later if I’m wrong.”

“On the other hand, those water wings might keep one of us from drowning as quickly as the others. Measure out a couple of doses of that and we’ll call the deal even.”

Sour Heck produces half a dozen lead sling bullets from his pouch and passes them to the alchemist to coat with ghost salt. “She should be able to prepare four of your arrows too, Peredur.”

From his coat pocket he pulls a second sling. “I snatched this from one of the village children who was trying to hunt squirrels with it. Judging by the size of the child and the temperment of the local squirrels, I believe I may have saved his life.”

He offers the sling and three of the salted bullets to the others. “Not as fearsome as Talia’s claws or Eloise’s blade, I know, but they’ll touch what steel and nails can’t. Who wants them? You can get some practice with stones on the way to the prison.”

"Perhaps, coating some of my bolts would be wise as well. I can use a sling, if neccesary, but my crossbow might be more efficient."

Iesha pulls her bolts (20, restocked) out of her quiver and lays them n the counter.

"If you can't do all of them, that's fine. I'll be sure to keep the coated ones seperate."

Jominda nods to Heck and adds two vials of her Water Wings (touch of the sea) to the table.

Sour Heck watches with interest as the alchemist salts three bolts for Eloise, three arrows for Peredur, and four sling stones.

“What, none of you want this sling? Fine, I’ll hold on to it for now. Just let me know when you change your mind.” He tucks the potions, the salted bullets, and the extra sling away in his pouch and sighs.

“That’s all the delays I could come up with, I’m afraid. Time to go get ourselves killed.”

"Hold on," Eloise says. "I'll take the sling. Don't have a crossbow to shoot arrows with, so those bolts are no good for me, anyway."

Sorry, I meant to type 'bolts for Iesha.'

“Right!” Heck gives her the spare sling and two salted bullets. “Let’s not waste any more daylight.”

Back to the prison, then, the party goes. The burdens of what is to come weights heavily, and the trip perhaps bears too close a semblance to those journeys of the condemned bound for a cold cell in Harrowstone's depths.

While the sun rises and wipes away the winter chill of pre-dawn, the party arrives back at the prison. It remains the same as it has, at least outwardly, for years: A sagging ruin, crawling with ivy. Empty windows stare blankly out, and the history of the place hangs like the stench of burning skin in the air. Palpable, lingering, and impossible to wash away. The walls that surround the grounds seem to loom higher as the party approaches the front door. By intent or accident, or the influence of the damned souls that still linger, Harrowstone seems utterly inescapable.

The ranger pauses in the silence before trudging down to the prison, feet inexorably drawn to the massive building. His eyes are focused on the door to the exclusion of all else.

"Is it me, or does this place get worse the more we try to fix it?" Iesha whispers.

"It's thinking I am that th' place slept when first we came, but now we've roused it."

"Iesha, Peredur, you should really try to be less gloomy. No one likes a pessimist. Since we're going to be stuck haunting this place together for eternity, I'd appreciate you learning to smile a little more."

"I'm fine with it being awake," Eolise says with a strange, fierce grin, and she draws her sword. "Stabbing someone in their sleep isn't my style."

"Well, I think I'd prefer putting it to rest permanently." Talia steels herself, rolls her shoulders, and bites her lower lip, a look of determination on her face.

"So, where to first?"

The darkness of the place swallows the party. The vibrancy of the approaching spring outside vanishes into the run-down hallways of the prison itself; the light of the outside seems to fail in any attempt to pierce the place, leaving only shadows, darkness and silence.

Backtracking to the pit, the party leans over the gaping maw. Below, stillness and the sound of the water from the pond falling steadily on the accumulated water ... and the restless, vengeful dead.

Only half joking, Iesha says "Well, this is it. Last chance to run."

Peredur gives a quick grin. "It's doubting that I am...better to say, last chance to escape. Running, there may be." He clutches his spiral symbol and mutters a quick prayer before squaring his shoulders and looking for a place to tie the rope off.

Rubble is plentiful enough that tying off the rope is not an issue.

“There now! Imagining we still have a final chance is exactly the sort of optimism I hoped for from you, Iesha!”

The bard is tying knots along one 50’ coil of rope, shortening it by 10’ but making it much easier to climb. The other 50’, with the grappling hook attached, lies at his feet.

“Take that down with you, Peredur--when you get lost or seperated from us, you can pass the time searching in vain for another place to climb out. Here, take one of these swimming potions, too. Do you want me to light and lower my lantern first, or will that blind your elf-sight?”

“After Eloise and I lower him, Iesha, you should be next. If any of us can spot something moving in the shadows, it’ll be one of you two. Here’s the other swimming potion, just in case.”

“We’ll lower Talia after you, then I’ll lower Eloise, then I’ll climb down.” Sour Heck considers the plan. “Don’t wait too long for me--whatever’s lurking will probably jump out at me once I’m alone.” He fixes the knotted rope in the sturdiest floor joist he can find using two pitons, then takes up position by the yawning pit.

"Hold up," Eloise says. She picks up a pebble, mutters a single word - "Lumen" - and hands it to Peredur. She repeats the process, enchanting a pebble for each adventurer. The Chelishwoman's magic makes each little stone glow neon-bright.
A spell of Light; prepped it especially for today - and Disrupt Undead, too.

For herself, Eloise casts the spell on her sword's pommel before sheathing it again. "Let's go," she says, still smiling.

Unfortunately, by RAW you can only have one light spell running at a time:

You can only have one light spell active at any one time. If you cast this spell while another casting is still in effect, the previous casting is dispelled.