Pirknok shrugs and heads to the next door down the hallway.
This room, and the three adjacent rooms, are stacked with old furniture, sheets and linens, boxes and crates, and other bits.
Nothing of value can be found here.
The ceiling of this room angles down steeply, leaving only four feet of headroom to the southeast. A low cot and a dresser are the room’s only furnishings.
As the party peers into this room the unmistakable sound of a man screaming can be heard coming from down the hall.
Pirknok bolts down the hall toward the sound.
Jessamy follows, ready to pull her blades if she must!
Rushing to the northeastern door, Pirknok finds it's locked tight but the sounds of a man sobbing can be clearly heard on the other side.
The dwarf stands back and kicks the door hard, just next to the latch.
"Hey, there are easier ways to do that. Let me try!"
Jessamy gives it a quick look and then pulls out a set of wires and picks and kneels down in front of the door. "I think that should do it," she says, pulling the picks out of the lock.
Jessamy's deft hands make quick work of the lock.
This room is cold and damp; an old armoire stands near the east wall. The ceiling slopes down to only four feet high to the northeast, leaving little room for a small window. A full-size mirror in a dark wooden frame of coiling roses leans against these bricks, angled toward the tiny window.
A young varisian man in tattered clothes kneels before the mirror. He sobs quietly even as the party enters.
Pirknok looks at Jessamy and tilts his head slightly with a grunt. "Huh."
He nods in approval as she opens the door, then moves inside. "Wut is it?" he asks the man. "Wut's wrong?"
The young man continues to sob and makes no effort to face Pirknok.
The hair on the back of her neck rising, Jessamy looks around.
"Be careful," she whispers. "He might not be real."
"I heard a woman's voice speaking. “What do you get up to down in the damp below?" it said." he says and looks up at the portrait revealed on the wall.
At the room in the attic, Eli pulls a vial from his belt and readies himself with his spear in the other hand.
Pirknok looks at Eli, clearly puzzled. "Wut in thuh wurld duz that mean?" Maybe it's a language problem...
The dwarf moves forward to touch the man on his shoulder, letting the other know of his presence. He holds his katana in his other hand, but tries to appear non-threatening.
Pirknok notes that his form is cold to the touch.
There’s still no response.
The dwarf draws his hand back sharply, narrowing his eyes. "He's cold..."
"Ysme, is he... alive?" Ventus said sidling around to a flanking position with Pirknok.
Ysme steps forward, setting her own hand to the young man's temple as she kneels beside him. "Vice VAN unrhyw AET web segíthet? Ki zárt chi itt? Tudod, Ada gyűszűvirág?"
Beyond being cold to the touch, Pirknok and Ysme are unable to determine much about his condition until they come around his front revealing a jagged hole in his neck caked with dark dried gore. This man is very much not-alive.
He stares transfixed at his own reflection in the tall mirror. Despite the hole in his throat, his sobbing is loud and clear.
Pirknok glances at the man's reflection in the mirror, his eyes wide. "How is he... Ysme, kin ya do ennythin' fer him?"
Eli shudders. "What in the name of Desna is going on here?"
He looks around the room for any more clues.
Jessamy waits outside the room, ready for the dead man to come to (un)life.
"Ah don't unnerstan' it. Who locked thuh door? Wut wud make uh ded man scream?"
Pirknok joins Eli in the other's search of the room, trying to find any clue he can as to what's going on.
"I don't know..." Ysme whispers in response to Pirknock's questions.
"Uram, kérem, web itt, hogy segítsek. Web nem os chi nem hajlandó beszélni velünk de. Will chi kérjük, beszéljen velem? Mondd el, mi történt veled?" She turns back to the dead man, continuing to speak with him calmly & quietly, her eyes once more growing liquid.
Beyond what was described in the room, Pirknok doesn’t notice anything else of interest.
If he has noticed the party, he isn’t showing it. His attention is solely on his own reflection on the mirror.
Pirknok frowns and picks up the mirror from behind it, turning it to face the wall and setting it down again.
"Ysme, it might be best to put him to rest," Ventus ventured.
As soon as Pirknok removes the mirror, the man shakes his head like one that's woken from a dream and lurches to his feet.
"Ada! I can smell your fear! You’ll return to my arms soon!" he moans with crystal clarity despite his ravaged neck.
With deadly purpose the undead man heads for the door.
Ventus lurches back when the man stands but proceeds to follow him.
"Let's see where he goes, if he tries to leave the building we stop him."
Pirknok nods and follows as well, gripping his sword tightly.
Jessamy leaps out of the way.
Her suspicions confirmed, Ysme makes one last plea for the unshriven soul's accord. "Állj! Ada alsó csomó chi unwaith ismerte az asszonyt. Ő lett a záloga a gonosz! Tagadja, saját AEA pihen meg. Fogadja el anya öleléséből és lehetővé kell tenni a saját szív balzsam." She pleads as she steps between the walking corpse & the door.
The undead varisian ignores Ysme's pleas and shoves past her without care.
He exits the room, turns down the hall, and heads down the stairs.
Jessamy follows the man, keeping a close eye out for any threats.
Jessamy sees no new threats, supernatural or otherwise.
As soon as the undead man reaches the second floor, he turns the corner and heads for the stairs further down.
This cannot end well...
Ysme holds Betheda & the two follow close on the heels of the walking dead man.
Pirknok hurries after.
Descending further to the first floor, the undead man suddenly stops to stare at a dark stain on the floor of the hallway between the twinned staircases. Like earlier with the mirror, the stain seems to take up the whole of his attention.
Pirknok shakes his head, puzzled. "Wut is thuh matter with this wun?"
Kneeling to rub a finger across one edge of the stain, Ysme replies "At a guess, I would suspect this to be where he 'died' Pirknok." Standing up, she once more interposes herself between the dead man & the focus of his sight. "Kérjük megyében ez yn csak nevetséges, hogy több os chi parhau. Ez a világ már nem csökkenti a saját, és hagyja, hogy fogadja el az a béke, a sír."
Eli follows nervously. "We're following a corpse through a haunted house. Does this strike anyone as a good idea?" he grumbles, knuckles white on the haft of his spear.
"Not really. Ysme, you know he's dead, right? I don't think he can hear you."
"Mebbe Ventus is right.... mebbe we shud put him ta rest."
Ventus watches for a minute and then takes off his cloak and spreads it over the stain.
The undead man continues to ignore Ysme and everyone else until Ventus slips his cloak over the stain. He suddenly howls in rage, tears the cloak aside, and begins pounding the wooden floor with his bony fists.
His blows prove very effective, causing large cracks to split the floorboards.
"Is there something under there?"