Sour Heck unrolls the unframed portrait and eyes it critically. "There's got to be an interesting story of how this came here," he remarks.
The secret doorway reveals another tiny, dusty room, more ov a sub-vault really, as it's difficult to stand up straight inside.
Five items, unlabelled, rest on the shelves inside.
A hand-axe, splattered with blood. Despite the age, and the dust, the blood appears fresh.
A simple, +1 handaxe.
A thick ,leather-bound spell-book, riddled with mold.
A dozen silver holy symbols, in a haphazard pile.
A smith's hammer, bearing a Dwarven maker's mark.
A tarnished, silver flute.
"Some sort of aura around that axe," Eloise says, gesturing carelessly at the weapon in question.
The Chelishwoman directs her magic-enhanced sight to the remaining items, and makes sure none of them are fitted with magical traps before going through them.
"Hmm, let's see who we've got here," she mutters as she sorts the holy symbols and tries to identify the deities connected with them.
And then, of course... "Now this is the business," Eloise says, grinning happily as she thumbs through the spellbook and tries to identify its contents. "Anyone mind if I take this? I might be able to cast some of these spells, even put them in my own book."
The ranger smiles. "It's not knowing I am what use these are, though it's thinking I am that they're telling us something we didn't know. Axe for th' Lopper, hammer for th' Mosswater Marauder, flute for th' Piper, holy symbols for Father Charlatan, and that means th' Splatterman's a wizard. Can any of you read it, so we'll know what his haunt can do?"
"Working on it," Eloise says, while continuing to screen the spellbook.
'And loving it. It's been ages since I got my hands on another caster's spellbook, let alone a Wizard's. I think Uncle Secundus was the last one who...'
For a moment, Eloise winces. Then she clamps down on the memory and continues her study of the Splatterman's tome.
Talia takes a closer look at the axe, muttering words similar to those Eloise spoke.
Her eyes alight after looking at the axe. "It's a magical axe, Eloise. It might come in useful, if anyone can stand using such a bloodied thing.
Do you think these are items belonging to the five malicious spirits? Is there a way to tell if they are, and if they could be used against them? Sometimes destroying an item tied to a spirit can free that spirit to move on from the material world..." Her voice trails off as she ponders this.
"It's remembering I am that Vesorianna spoke of such things."
Comprehend Languages, Dispel Magic, False Life, Gust of Wind, Illusory Script, Levitate, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Summon Monster IV.
In the margins of the pages are names, inked in Red. As Eloise thumbs deeper into the book, more names appear. On the last legible page there is only one, however, in large, block lettering:.
Eloise staggers and almost drops the book.
Instead, she puts it on the table so quickly that it looks as if the moldy pages had burned her fingers straight through her gloves. Her skin has gone so pale that for a moment, she looks very fashionable by Chelaxian standards.
"Um," she mutters, "uh, the spells... The spells I can translate... Comprehend Languages, Dispel Magic, False Life, Gust of Wind, Illusory Script, Levitate, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Summon Monster IV. And..."
Eloise blinks, and her eyebrows drawn down: "... and either this book is enchanted to use illusory script, or its owner is nearby and playing tricks."
Eloise picks the book up again, glaring at its cover. "It just printed my name on its final page. I'm thinking that we are not alone... Unless this book is much more than it seems."
The glare darkens. "Wait. Wasn't it the Splatterman who wrote people's names as warning, then spelled them out letter by letter so's to kill them? If so, then he just tossed down a gauntlet for me."
Still visibly angry, Eloise takes out a piece of cloth, wraps the spellbook up in it, and puts it in her pack. "Challenge accepted," she growls.
Iesha looks at all of the items, then at Eloise. Are you alright? And, are these things safe? Perhaps we should consult with Vesoriannna. And Father Grimburrow."
“Or maybe you’ve gone cross-eyed crazy,” Sour Heck tells Eloise helpfully.
“Yes, they’re dangerous,” Sour Heck says to Iesha, prodding the flute with the butt of his spear. “But look on the bright side: we can only die horribly once.” He pokes at the heap of holy symbols, grimaces, and touches his bruised side. “Or so I like to tell myself.”
“I guess we could disturb the warden’s lady’s rest again, but if we walk all the way back to town to talk to Grimburrow, I might just keep on walking. Let’s settle up with the last two before I lose my nerve.”
"It's worrying I am about th' spells in yon book, if Splatterman can conjure like that. Better to disturb her rest than join her in it. If we can weaken his haunt or destroy it without having to face him, so much th' better."
"I agree, Peredur. Any information which might give us an edge. The Splatterman is creepy enough..."
After the party collects the items, they tromp back to Vesorianna. Seeing the items when presented to her, she nods approvingly.
"Good, good. Equipped thusly you will most certainly hold an edge over the remaining spirits. Sadly I known not how, specifically, these can be used, but I imagine the bond between a wizard and his spellbook, even in death, is a powerful one."
"I'll carry th' axe. Sour Heck, I believe th' flute is for you--you can use it as a drumstick, if naught else; Iesha, you and Talia can decide who takes what of the remaining two."
"I can hold on to the hammer, I suppose. Holy symbols are not exactly my area of expertise.
"Is that acceptable, Iesha?"
Sour Heck rolls his eyes. “As long as you don’t expect me to play the stupid thing.”
He raises the flute to his lips. “OoooOOOoo, look at me, I’m the Piper of Illmarsh. Fear my bugs.”
From the dark recesses of the room rise faint strains of flute music.
“You hear that?” says Heck. “The Piper of Illmarsh is gone, but his music lingers.” He listens intently. “No, not exactly. It’s more like this place has a--darkness--no, not just this place--it’s strong here but--the darkness is everywhere, singing to itself. And listening for other songs to sing...”
The bard concentrates intently, and the Ghost Sound of flute music changes to a phantom calliope playing the same haunting tune, as if a otherworldly carnival lay just out of sight.
Sour Heck makes a chopping motion, and the music stops. He shudders.
“That’s the second spell I’ve learned in this place. Almost like it’s trying to teach me things.”
"Just so long as you use those lessons for goodly purposes, you should be fine," Eloise says.
"Hm. Maybe I should threaten to set fire to the book, see if it draws Splats out of hiding..."
"He is trapped below still,and cannot go anywhere yet, long as I remain. Perhaps doing so before his spirit may have the desired effect." Vesorianna remarks.
Iesha untangles the mass of holy symbols.
"Well, this one's Shelyn's. And here's Pharasma. Irori, Sarenrae, Desna, Gozra, Cayden Cailean, Iomedae, Calistria. Hey, isn't this Milani? Erastil, Abadar, um, OK, why would anyone fake being a priest of Asmodeus?"
She gathers them up carefully. "Let's head back, like we planned, then have Father Grimburrow check these things for curses. If there are, rather likely, I suspect, maybe he could even remove them."
“Visit Grimburrow again! Iesha, you’re much better than I am at thinking of flimsy reasons to delay the inevitable.”
Sour Heck considers, then shakes his head sadly.
“But it doesn’t hold up. There’s still plenty of daylight, and all five of us are still breathing. We’ve got our siphons and anti-ghost weapons, and found even more weapons to use against the spirits. Are these things cursed? Of course they’re cursed! We should never have touched them. We should never have come here. But the only slim chance of breaking the curse isn’t that god-bothering gnome; it’s finishing off the spirits below us before the curse has a chance to sink in.”
He sighs. “Besides, why spend a few hours dreading what might happen when we can go downstairs and get killed right away?”
"See," says Talia, looking at Heck. "That's what I like about you, Sour. Always looking on the bright side of the grave." She gives a half-smile before turning to the rest of the group.
"Any other opinions? Should we head back downstairs for a bit, or try to discover what we can about these items?"
"Let's try for one more spirit," Eloise suggests, "and then go to see Grimburrow. We're still good to go, so let's give it a whirl."
Peredur nods in agreement. "Aye, let's be to it. And Eloise, mayhap it's a torch you should be carrying, so if we face Feramin's haunt you can burn his book. Otherwise, have any of you magic to bring fire?"
"Not today, but ask me tomorrow and I'll be able to throw fire from my very hands," Eloise says, grinning savagely.
The grin turns into a wink. "It's great for roasting sausages. Magical fire really seals in the flavour."
"If need be, I can cast forth fire. Either for books or sausages..." Talia winks in reply, before turning to head back to the rope and the prison downstairs.
And back into the doom and gloom the party returns. The central chamber, now in further disarray from the recent scuffle, leaves two options for the party: North, or South.
"North, I'm thinking. Iesha, how much of Shelyn's grace is still with you?"
"Only two more, I believe. And I'm out of lesser cures. Try not to get hurt."
"We have th' wand, and a few potions should it come to that."
North then,goes the party. Light cast ahead of them reveals a doorway on the left side of the hallway, hanging slightly open. The iron bars to the Oubliette are of course, closed.
As Peredur approaches the door, a sudden flash of heat washes over the party, and a headless skeleton, wreathed in leaping flames stumbles out of the guard room, throwing the broken door off it's hinges. Wielding an axe, it seems to flail around blindly, heads toward the party all the same.
Iesha
Peredur
Sour Heck
Talia
Eloise
skelly
Just a skeleton, as far as anyone can tell. It just happens to have no head, and be engulfed in fire.
"Let's show Mr. Headless a team effort, shall we?" Eloise mutters.
The Chelishwoman unslings her heavy mace and starts to circle around in an effort to set the skeleton up for flanking.
"'Ware, all! If 'tis kin to th' ones we fought above, 'twill explode when put to rest!"
"A flaming, headless skeleton. Sigh. Why not?" is Iesha's comment.
"True, Peredur, but I don't think it's going to ignore us, so, take it down from a distance?"
"Ah," Eloise says, one hand on the hilt of the mace, one foot lifted to move. "Ahaha. Yeah, alright."
The foot comes down, and Eloise's hand comes up, sketching the accompanying gestures to a spell: "Sagittae Magicae, omne errore vacuae!" Two bolts of light shoot from Eloise's fingers and impact with the approaching skeleton.
“I was hoping for an armless, legless skeleton myself. Well, this is what I get for hoping.” Sour Heck backs off along with Eloise, retrieving his sling in the process.
"You mean a torso rolling over to knock us off our feet?" Eloise quips. "Sounds gross. You have a weird imagination, my friend."
Peredur waits on the result of Eloise's spell before acting.
Eloise's spell strikes true, thudding into the animated bones. But the thing's progress does not halt. It presses on, waving its axe blindly.
"Stay back--and I'll be after wanting some healing when this is done, I'm thinking." Peredur closes with the skeleton and brings his mace around in an offhanded shot that smashes into the burning skeleton with bone-shattering force.