Janos looks back at the others performing healing. When they're through, he says, "Let's go. We can make it to the front doors and be out of here if need be. Unfortunately, all we've discovered is that the prison really is haunted."
Janos opens the double doors to the west.
Seeing Dantrian defeat the haunt with his alchemist's fire, Drosil finally stands up and feels confident in joining the others. I am woefully unprepared to deal with these threats. I have my weapons and my stealth, but what good are they when I can neither hide from nor strike my enemies?
Drosil waves off offers of potions from the others. "I appreciate the offer, but I would feel better if we didn't use all of our healing potions this early on. We've only just begun to explore, and we know that there are lower levels still needing to be explored."
Still, he doesn't move away when Tibideau offers his healing, and nods his thanks when he feels his strength returning.
Streaks of mold stain the walls of this foyer, and the floor below is a thick, gray carpet of fungal growth. Sturdy wooden doors beckon from every wall.
Finding herself standing next to Drosil and seeing his forlorn face, B'yelka reaches out. Her touch on his elbow is gentle, and she whispers to him, "I am worried, too. I cannot think of a ghost that respects this world. Even the great princes of the stage were beholden to their whims and terror." She smiles trying to share some comfort with her new friend. Another step away from Father; this is not easy! But for that, I will find the strength to persevere.
We're getting sucked deeper into this place. I say we find the front door so we know where our exit is.
"That sounds like a suitable precaution, Anton. Good thinking."
Anton:
Drosil:
B'Yelka:
Dantrian:
Tibideau:
Janos:
As Anton moves to open the southern door, everyone except him and Tibideau see the badly-burnt faces of shrieking criminals rush out of all of the doors.
Anton:
Drosil:
B'Yelka:
Dantrian:
Tibideau:
Janos:
"Quick! Someone sprinkle holy water around the room - it will cleanse the area of these spirits!"
"I don't have Holy Water, did someone else bring any?" B'yelka readies a Spirit Siphon and holds her breath.
"Dantrian, you still have those vials of Holy Water? Drosil's right, we need to sprinkle some around here."
Dantrian wordlessly draws a bottle of holy water from his pack.
Surprise Round
"Quick! Someone sprinkle holy water around the room - it will cleanse the area of these spirits!" blurts out Drosil.
"I don't have Holy Water, did someone else bring any?" B'yelka readies a Spirit Siphon and holds her breath.
"Dantrian, you still have those vials of Holy Water? Drosil's right, we need to sprinkle some around here." Janos chimes in.
Dantrian wordlessly draws a bottle of holy water from his pack.
Each door to slams violently shut.
Dantrian unstoppers the bottle of holy water in his hand and sprinkles it in the area indicated by the group, his eyes bouncing from the task at hand to the doors to see if it was successful.
The angry red glow around the edge of the doorframes fades as Dantrian sprinkles holy water around the edge of the room. Each door he passes creaks back open slightly.
Breathing a sigh of relief B'yelka states the obvious, "That could have been much worse. Maybe we are getting better at this?"
"Maybe. Let's hope if there are more spirits, thy're like this last one." Janos walks over and opens the doors leading to the front.
"Hmm. It seems these haunts are more annoying than dangerous. As I recall, they like to play around with doors, slamming them and locking them. Let's just hope we don't get stuck in a room with something more nasty than they are."
These spirits seem more mischievious than malicious. Still, no sense in taking chances with them.
This was once a wide hall flanked by a pair of waiting rooms, but the foyer to Harrowstone now lies in ruins. With little left to hold up the ceiling, the wooden beams above sag dramatically. The wall to the north contains a large pair of oaken doors .
Janos walks over and opens the front doors, just to be sure. "Don't want there to be any surprises if we do have to run in a hurry."
Once Janos is satisfied the doors are secure and the group can make a quick exit if they need to Anton suggests:
Let's stick close to the foyer for now. It would make sense that the more administrative areas are toward the front of the prison and the inmates at the rear. Maybe we can find some more information about exactly what happened here before we get too deep.
HP=17/20
Lay on Hands (1d6) (4/day) (Su) - 0/4
Smite Evil (1/day) (Su) - 0/1
Arrows - 0/25
Blunt arrows - 0/25
Silver arrows - 0/6
+1 arrows - 0/6
+1 ghost touch arrows - 0/5
+1 undead bane arrows - 0/2
Potion of cure light wounds - 0/2
Scroll protection from evil - 0/1
Sunrod - 0/1
"Another reasonable precaution. Though the ceiling here gives me pause. Should we explore the second floor we will want to exercise extreme caution above this particular room. Bear that in mind."
The front doors are now fully open. As much as they can be in there badly rotted state. They hang awkwardly to the sides of the doorway, on one hinge each.
This spacious room smells of mildew and rot. A long desk and chair sit to the south, while to the northwest a narrow alcove contains a closed safe. Thick layers of dust cover everything in sight.
This room was used as a washroom by the guards—the smaller chamber to the west was a privy. There’s nothing of interest here today.
Dantrian's nose wrinkles as the odors of decay assault him once again.
You can help someone achieve success on a skill check by making the same kind of skill check in a cooperative effort. If you roll a 10 or higher on your check, the character you're helping gets a +2 bonus on his or her check. (You can't take 10 on a skill check to aid another.) In many cases, a character's help won't be beneficial, or only a limited number of characters can help at once.
In cases where the skill restricts who can achieve certain results, such as trying to open a lock using Disable Device, you can't aid another to grant a bonus to a task that your character couldn't achieve alone. The GM might impose further restrictions to aiding another on a case-by-case basis as well.
Dantrian regards the safe, then looks to Drosil. "I believe I might be able to bypass the locking mechanism, but it would require time as well as tools I do not currently possess. I would also have to..." he hesitates here, visibily uncomfortable with what he is considering, "to lower my mental defenses. If I do this, it will no doubt alarm you." This last part is addressed to the group rather than just Drosil. "That is all moot though if you yourself are able to bypass the lock or if we do not have very delicate theives' picks available to us. We could also continue to explore the complex and hope we stumble upon the key." He looks back to Drosil questioningly.
Anton is rummaging through some badly rotted paperwork, trying to find anything of use when te alchemist addresses the issue of the safe. He looks up with a raised eyebrow.
Lower your mental defences. What do you mean by that?
The alchemist sighs.
It was only a matter of time. Prepare them now. Perhaps they will stay their hands when the inevitable happens.
"It is a long story, but I will attempt to summarize it none-the-less. A decade ago, I was attacked by a creature while attempting to uncover some art from a ruin by Lake Encarthan. The encounter forced me to abandon my pursuits and seek out the professor, who was gracious enough to aid a total stranger and to treat my injuries. He helped develop a tonic which I now take daily to stave off the lasting effects of the wound, but the tonic's potency and effectiveness has been waning over the last several months." He pauses for a moment, looking to Anton. "It is a bigger answer than you likely expected, but the tonic only helps if I also maintain a level of mental discipline. Relaxing that discipline can trigger... a change. You have seen a glimpse of this when we were attacked in the middle of night at Kendra's, but since then... well, things have escalated."
"A change? Like a garou, or something else?" the Diva's gaze does not deviate from Dantrian's eyes, Please don't hide anything, I can't feel safe with secrets at my back.
He shifts his gaze to B'yelka, his eyes meeting and holding hers. "Precisely. Prior to our midnight fight with the zombies, the only physical changes were a general increase in body mass or a sharpening of my reflexes. Since then, though, when the change occurs my features become noticeably more lupine as well. It is... troubling, but there may yet be advantages to exploit. Such as a heightened level of fine motor control that could allow me to bypass a lock I would otherwise be unable to surmount. There are also... more violent applications." He pauses again, at last breaking his gaze away from his former pupil.
"What sort of creature attacked you?" The half-elf eyes the alchemist with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "You said 'lupine'. Was this a werewolf, Dantrian?"
Upon hearing Janos question, Anton slowly puts down the stack of paper.
He turns to face the alchemist, a grim look on his face.
I need you yo answer this question honestly Dantrian. If Janos' assertion is right and you have been afflicted by a werewolf.... Are you a danger to us?
"Yes, Janos, a werewolf." His voice is full of weariness as his shoulders slump. It's obvious maintaining control in isolation for so long has taken a toll. "Perhaps now you begin to understand my earnestness to pour through the Professor's library. It was his tonic that kept the wolf at bay for more than ten years. I had hoped to find notes to aid me in altering the tonic to restore its effectiveness." He looks to Anton again, his face once more masked in stoic sobreity while his words are flat and matter-of-fact. "Presently though, I fear the largest danger I pose to you would be the people of Ravengro learning of my affliction. I suspect they would judge you guilty by association and seek to either lynch you or burn you at the stake beside me. Personally though? No, I do not believe you are any more unsafe in my company now than you would be were I not afflicted so. If this prison has its way, though, I do not think it will matter."
Anton considers the alchemists words carefully. He had heard tales on the road of men who wake, miles from their beds, clothes torn and bloodied, the taste of flesh in their mouths and madness in their minds. He didn't know much about the affliction, next to nothing in fact, but those were the tales that haunt you in the small hours beside the road when the moon was full and the fire dying down to embers.
But Dantrian had proved honourable thus far. And if Desna taught anything it was that you never know what lay around the next bend and the world was full of wonders if you knew but where to look. Perhaps the professors notes do hold the secret of a cure after all - the Desnan is ever optimistic.
Good enough for me. he says with a wide smile, offering the alchemist his hand to shake. I cannot speak for the others but a vagrant with no home... he indicates himself. A performer without a stage, a swamp elf wary of his lineage, a creature of shadow and suspicion and a man with a monster inside him. We all have reasons for the ignorant to judge us. But let us instead be measured by the weight of our deeds and honour the professors memory. I'll stand by you, mate, should they learn of your circumstances.
Dantrian looks at Anton's hand, disbelief evident on his face for a moment before he returns the gesture. Relief washes over him as he realizes he's not about to be hanged. He stammers briefly before regaining his stone-faced composure, "Th-thank you, Anton. Thank you very much. If that is settled, then the question yet remains of how to surmount the safe. If Drosil can manage it, perhaps some of us could spend that time in the records room. There may be further information regarding some of the prisoners, particularly this 'Splatter Man', lost in the mess."
Bold words. I only hope they stand the test of time. They have not yet witnessed it, after all.
Janos stares at Anton as his words seem to sink in. He's right. What an odd band of misfits the Professor seemed to put together. Perhaps it's why we were all useful to him. Friends with him even. You'd love to see us now, wouldn't you Petros?
Finally he nods and claps Dantrian on the shoulder. "Agreed. You saved me from becoming the Professor's post-death meal. If you say the beast within you is at bay, we believe you. You've gone this long keeping it in check, I believe you can still. If the tonic was the Professor's he must have notes on it somewhere. We'll help you."
Drosil grins, trying to reassure Dantrian that they were all, for better or worse, in this together. "Don't worry yourself, Dantrian - that beast inside you will have to wait a bit longer to show itself. This is the sort of task I specialize in, and doing it will help me to feel a bit more useful, besides." Then, with a smile, he gets to work.
B'yelka takes a mental note of Anton's words, How very like a play, bold words to reassure his friends, or maybe to reassure himself. She smiles for Dantrian as his eyes search the gathered comrades, "The only way is forward, since we know there is only waste behind." A brief look of horror crosses her face, Did I just quote Demez Lackel? Azlanti poet or not, it sounds foolish! The diva grins and offers Dantrian a deep curtsy, "I would be proud to share the bonfire of our immolation with you, my teacher and peer."
A couple of minute's work on the safe produces a satisfying click by Drosil and the safe opens.
As Drosil sets to work on the safe, Dantrian nods and moves back to the small offices with the scattered papers and records. He spends a few minutes rooting around, his mind already beginning to develop a rudimentary cataloging system should they find enough time to sort through it all.