"It's a sad day when the man whose soul is being fought over does get a say in the proceedings." He could feel the bones grinding as they shifted in his skull but from his belt he produced a dagger all the same.
"Been a bit in and out what with my head getting ready to come off but I'm not letting ol' Pie Slayer bite it just for my sake."
Massive sobs rack the dwarf's battered form. My failures... so many. My brothers and sisters... Rodrick's mother, and the man in the square. Now another brother will die for my failure.
His voice is subdued, his breathing labored and painful.
With that, he tries once more to stab the great bear with the ranger's sword as his tears continue to fall.
Pirknok's borrowed blade finds way into the bear's throat causing a small flood of billowing smoke to pour out over him. A moment later, the spirit vanishes in a puff, dropping the dwarf's crushed form to the ground.
The thunderous growl is silenced but the voice, as strong and clear as ever, echoes through the still air.
Pirknok lands in a silent heap, unconscious.
A moment later color returns to the surroundings and the sound of the Lieutenant's booming chant returns to the forefront of your hearing.
Before your very eyes Ventus seems to rapidly recover. The extra flesh of his ears blackens, dries up, and then crumbles away like giant pieces of dried blood; his teeth grow blunt and recede into his mouth; and the fog that had been dimming his thoughts seems to lift. Krojun stops his chant when he notices the change.
"Have you done it? Did you meet with Death?"
Doran blinks hard as the world returns to normal, thoroughly impressed at Pirknok besting the spirit. He rushes over to the dwarf, placing a hand on his fallen companion's shoulder, chanting softly. A gold light floods into Pirknok, causing his wounds to stop bleeding. Once he is sure that his friend is in no danger, the tanned Chelaxian looks over his shoulder at Lt. Krojun, nodding. "We di', an' 'is fella stood toe t' toe wit' 'im. Wa'n't th' mos' 'eroic o' battles, bu' 'e di' what needed t' be done."
After making sure that Ventus is indeed alright, Ensu hurries to meet with Brodert.
Visibly impressed, but now exhausted beyond words, Krojun packs up his things and prepares to depart.
"Meet me at the Dragon tonight for dinner. If you and the others plan to siege Thistletop, there's someone I'd like you to meet", he says with the tired sigh. "Until then, get some rest."
Eli is struck silent by the titanic struggle, and he pales visibly when the Bear spirit mentions coming for each of them.
After the fight when he is returned to the physical world, he can't help feeling that there is a huge shadowy bear following him. He kneels down next to Pirknok, checking his wounds carefully and tentatively. Medicine is new to him, but he does well enough to assure himself that his friend is going to survive.
Eli winces at the extent of his injuries. "I'd say he needs days of care for all he's suffered, barring magic. Tomorrow I'll be able to have some more curative infusions ready." he says to whoever is listening.
With some difficulty Ventus and Doran are able to drag Pirknok to Father Zantus. The older man's eyes go wide, first at the sight of Ventus whole and healthy and then at at the dwarf, looking like he's been mauled by a bear.
Over the next few hours the elder priest prays to his goddess for guidance and healing and after tending to Pirknok's most serious injuries, gets a full and detailed explanation of what happened. Zantus's expressions seems to flip rapidly between wide-eyed shock and stubborn disbelief. He insists that both of you stay at the cathedral so that he can keep an eye on you while he goes about his business for the day.
... looking like he's been mauled by a bear.
Pirknok's eyes flutter open and he groans. "Unghhh... Doran? Ez Ventus...?"
After receiving a bit more healing, the dwarf's head clears somewhat. He waits for the priest to leave the room briefly before struggling upright to remove Doran's armor. Solemnly, he holds it out to the inquisitor. "Ah'm glad ah kin be givin' et back ta ya personully... ah thought ah wuz done fer."
He shudders and is silent for a long moment. "Ah don't want ta meet him agin, Doran. Not fer a long time."
Doran nods, accepting his armor as the dwarf returns it. "Me either, mate. Bu' I'm glad t' see ya in one piece, fir th' mos' part," the Chelaxian states, a small grin on his face. "Me armor, too."
"Wun piece, huh? Sher don't feel like et..." He rubs his sore ribs, a chagrined look on his face.
Ensu and Ysme arrive at the bookstore to find Brodert ready for them, fully clothed this time, and sipping a cup of tea.
"Now what is this about Runewells and dark rituals and such, the young are so easily riled..."
After a detailed explanation, the elderly man frowns deeply and motions for you both to follow him. The three of you exit the common area of the store and find yourselves in a backroom where you're lead to a narrow descending staircase.
"Come with me. If things are as serious as you claim, you need to see this."
The scholar brings you down, to a dark confined cellar. The walls are lined with scraps of paper and bits of iron inscribed with thassilonian symbols. A heavy desk dominates one wall and is piled high with books.
The older man gives both of you an expression that is equal parts concern and fear.
"Do you two really believe everything you've told me and if so, what do you want from an old man like me?"
"I was hoping you would know more about these wells, and what would cause them to reactivate, and how Lamashtu fits into this whole picture. You have been studying the empire for longer than I have, and I was hoping you might have learned something somewhere that I have yet to stumble upon. I need information to act upon, and that is what I am hoping you can provide; at this point, anything is better than the fragmentary clues I have from my own limited experience with the ruin and the information in the two journals.
As for what I believe, I don't quite know at the moment; I know that one of these ancient wells has recently reactivated, and that somehow it seems to have caused a ripple effect in at least one person, if not multiple people, that manifested itself in the recent troubles of this town. I am also reasonably certain that at least one of those people is currently agitating the goblins and possibly looking for even further secrets best left buried while doing so. I also am reasonably certain that whatever caused that well to reactivate was not in that ruin, and that someone, or something, else is almost certainly responsible for it. Beyond that, I fear that I don't know what to believe; your theory of the Old Light is sounding more and more closer to the truth than most folks would prefer, and if my friends and I are going to deal with this new threat, whatever it is, we need as much information as possible. We will hopefully find some more in Thistletop as we are dealing with the immediate threat, but any help you can provide would be appreciated as well, even if it's just providing another voice when we approach Father Zantus and the town elders with what we have found. A lot of people are going to be very unhappy with it and unwilling to accept it, and we will only be able to find solutions after the existence of the problem is acknowledged. If we do the latter quickly, it will be much easier to find workable solutions."
"You owe me a sword too, mate," Ventus says with a wry grin. "C'mon, let's see about getting you some new gear and my armor patched up."
Pirknok nods. "Ah'm glad ah had et..."
Groaning softly, he swings his legs around and stands up, taking a few seconds to stretch. He picks up Ventus' sword from where it's lying nearby and examines it to be sure it isn't damaged before handing it back to the ranger with another nod.
"Wull thuh shops still be open? An'... ah need ta thank thuh... priest?"
Stretching and yawning a bit, he pulls on his boots and prepares to leave (after finding Zantus and offering his sincere thanks).
***
The elderly man frowns as Ensu's words but doesn't look upset.
When the gnome has finished, he shakes his head and gestures to the room around you.
"This room contains my life's work - everything I've ever been able to glean about the ancient Thassilonian empire. I'm afraid I don't know what kind of power could rekindle a dormant runewell or what dark powers someone could visit on Sandpoint from Thistletop with the sacrifice of so many goblins, but if there's an answer, it's here. You are both welcome to stay down here as long as you'd like and browse the texts that I've gathered."
"As for preparing the town and alerting the mayor and those in charge, I'll do what I can but I'm just an old man. The young only humor their elders so far before they start accusing you of being mad. We have to approach this with a gentle touch or you'll risk scaring everyone into covering their ears and blinding themselves to the truth."
"As for preparing the town and alerting the mayor and those in charge, I'll do what I can but I'm just an old man. The young only humor their elders so far before they start accusing you of being mad. We have to approach this with a gentle touch or you'll risk scaring everyone into covering their ears and blinding themselves to the truth."
"Which is part of the reason I came to you first; the more actual facts we can pin down, the more effective of a strategy we can device to inform those that need to be informed."
The day of study proves somewhat fruitful.
The runewells, although common back in the age of their creation are all but extinct now. They very in size and capacity but each is a resevoir for magical energy generated by the death of creatures that represent a particular sin. The well in the dungeons below Sandpoint appears to be keyed to Wrath and was empowered by the death of so many goblins - notoriously wrathful creatures - on the night of the Festival. One of the powers of a Runewell, mentioned in Brodert's texts, is the ability to conjure Sinspawn physical manifestations of living sin bound together with bits of flesh.
The dungeon below Sandpoint was once the lair of a priest of Lamashtu that claimed fealty to the Runelord Karzoug. He went by the name the Scribbler (known for his mad scribbling). It was here that he practiced his dark arts (including the truly vile flesh-shaping) and made sacrifices to his goddess. Various texts allude to the idea that an ancient temple of Lamashtu may lay below these catacombs.
Eventually the hour grows late and even the passionate Brodert has reached his limit.
"I'm sorry friends but I must retire. I'm too old for late night studying like I used to. Please return tomorrow morning. If you really mean to visit Thistletop and stop whatever madness is happening there, I have something I want to give."
Eli returns to his study of the liquid from the runewell, as well as continuing to monitor his other concoction. His thoughts are shadowed by his experience of the morning, and after a while he resorts to strong tea to keep him focused. By the evening he believes he has made some progress, and continues to tend to commissions and other projects. By the evening, he remembers Krojun's invitation and after ensuring Marysin is well and taken care of, sets out for the Dragon.
After a long day of studying, Ensu is not overly eager to accept the dinner invitation, but figures that the more information he has, the better prepared he will be for whatever faces the group on the morrow. Accordingly, he appears at the appointed hour, hoping that he will be able to listen more than talk.
'To convince a community of an uncomfortable truth, you must first meet with that community & convince them of trustworthiness.' Ysme recalls her master's words as she prepares for the evening's repast.
When the party arrives at the Rusty Dragon, they find it surprisingly quiet for dinner time. Lieutenant Krojun is seated at the big table that you have all become so familiar with, seated across from a stunningly beautiful elven woman in an outdoorsman's trappings. They appear to be having a serious conversation.
Ameiko can be seen tending to another table of patrons. She gives you all a smile, a nod of greeting, and then glances at the elven woman before finishing her business with her current customers.