Tibideau flops down at the table. He leans back in his chair and stretches his limbs as far as they will go. He clasps Anton's shoulder. "Thank you for this marvelous breakfast!" He sits up and puts a few cakes and some bacon on his plate, then slathers all of it in honey. He pours himself a large cup of coffee and tops it off with a few ounces of liquor. "I'm a bit stiff in the limbs this morning!" He sips the coffee and shivers. "OoHOO!"
"And YOU!" he says, winking at Janos. "I'd give you a high-five but I'd be worried you'd use the wrong hand!" After a second, he puts both hands to his mouth. "Ooh, was that in poor taste? Sorry. I'm so bad at controlling what comes out of my mouth! Probably why mother never wanted me to meet any important people at parties."
"We could use more holy water. Can't the priests give it to us for free or something? Anyway, I don't really need anything. I've still got a wand that can damage our enemies and heal us. I haven't even used it yet. And by all means buy the bow."
Janos looks up from his tea with a slight smile and a faraway gaze. He refocuses on Anton and Tibideau, then coughs and rubs his neck. "Ah, yes. Yesterday was quite a toll on all of us. I didn't sleep much myself either."
He hides a larger grin behind his cup when Tibideau tries to congratulate him. He waves the man's hand away. "Stop, stop. She's quite the demure one when it comes to public displays. I doubt she wants everyone to know. Besides, it was only one night and we've both been under some stress." he grins again. "Though, I don't regret it one bit."
He sits back. "Now, then. You're wanting a new bow? We might be able to see what we can scrounge up. We might also ask the Father if he has anymore of those haunt siphons. They made quick work of the Piper and Charlatan."
He hides a larger grin behind his cup when Tibideau tries to congratulate him. He waves the man's hand away. "Stop, stop. She's quite the demure one when it comes to public displays. I doubt she wants everyone to know. Besides, it was only one night and we've both been under some stress." he grins again. "Though, I don't regret it one bit."
Anton looks up over his coffee, one eyebrow raised.
Im missing something here... Wait, you dont mean? Kendra!? Ha! Well who'd have thought it?
He laughs and exchanges glances with Tibideau. This was like being back at the orphanage with Dros, baudy talk and muffled sniggers.
But the axe. Wasn't that a bit... he makes some non descript gestures. Awkward?
From his seat behind the large desk in the other room, Dantrian casts a rueful glare over his shoulder at the three men sharing breakfast despite an intervening wall blocking his line of sight. As Anton presses the inquiries further, the alchemist forcefully shuts his formula book and rises. A moment later and he fills the doorway to the kitchen, his shadow from the early morning sun falling across the table. "You fools need to learn to keep your insufferable voices down. In error, I thought I might be able to further research our ghostly foes if I worked through the night," he shifts his gaze to settle solely upon Janos, "but you, sir, are disruptively loud at all hours it seems. His gaze then bounces to include Tibideau and Anton, "You three should be focusing on the task at hand, not gossiping and wasting breath on flights of fancy or midnight trysts." He looks once more at Janos and his voice becomes harder, colder, and deadly grave, "And I can only hope your lapse in judgement does not cost Kendra her wellbeing. You bear a curse, Janos. Who can know what you passed to her in your thoughtlessness? If the Lopper's influence has extended to her because of your weak-willed surrender... that is a guilt you alone shall bear, Mister Ardeal."
His glare tightens in on Anton and Tibideau once more as he adds, "And you pair should not encourage him. I trust when we depart later this morning you three will be focused on the task at hand once more."
His ire at its peak as his rebuke comes to a end, Dantrian stiffly turns aways, notably snatches the Scibbler's spellbook and his formula book from the desk, then sweeps upstairs to prepare his distillations.
Tibideau bursts into peals of laughter at Anton's question about the axe. "That was my first thought!" he says, grinning at Anton mischievously. It's nice to have something juicy to talk about amidst all these ghosts and other nasties. He takes another bite of honey bacon and sips his spiked coffee when Dantrian appears in the doorway. After listening to the alchemist's speech, Tibideau sets down his coffee and throws up both hands. "I didn't do anything." He attempts to keep a straight face but fails. Clutching his stomach, he laughs so hard he cries. After Dantrian leaves, he wipes his eyes and smiles at Janos and Anton. "He'll lighten up."
Kendra makes her way downstairs and into the kitchen. She's dressed in a modest grey wool dress, with her hair up in a bun. She's smiling, even more so when she sees all the food that Anton made. "Good morning gentlemen. Thank you for making breakfast! I hope you all had a good night's rest?" She goes to stand casually near Janos. Resting one hand on his shoulder she leans down behind his ear and continues, "The axe didn't trouble you, did it." It ought to have been a question, but her tone made a fact. She sits down at the table and helps herself to some food and a cup of coffee. "I fear that you'll soon be off back to the prison?"
Tibideau smirks when Kendra places her hand on Janos's shoulder, but says nothing about it. "We'll be off to that dreadful place soon. What do you have to occupy yourself today, Miss Kendra?"
"Mostly worrying about you all. I've got the house in order now, but I can't think about selling it or anything else until I know that the prison's taken care of, and all of you are safe."
The coffee Anton drinks that morning is bitter, but not half so bitter as Dantrian’s attitude.
He reclines in his chair as he receives his admonishment but in an odd way he half expected it. He studies Dantrian’s expressions and body language in the way the alchemist himself might observe the reaction of an unstable chemical.
This is exactly what I was trying to get through to B’yelka last night. To me he looks a man who has built his house on the sand, and the foundations are rapidly diminishing.
He takes another sip.
Or am I wrong? I don’t know him well enough to judge but either way I think this attitude is at best unhelpful. What we need in that place more than anything is camaraderie.
When Kendra arrives he notes her easy touch of Janos’ shoulder and the relaxed position of her shoulders.
Good for her. Whether this is a passing fancy or something more substantial, they both deserve some happiness after what’s happened.
Morning, Lady Kendra. I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to the larder, I thought we could all use a good breakfast.
I’m afraid we have to head back into the Prison, and soon. The best hope to end what’s happening in this town and to find a cure to that curse lies there. First though, I’m going to be heading into town shortly if anyone wants to come. In truth I’ve been jealous of Janos’ new bow and I promised myself I’d take a look at the selection.
Dantrian shuts the door to his bedroom quietly, much of the fire he felt downstairs confusedly spent. He pauses for a moment, observing the room and listening for pursuing footfalls. Hearing none, he thinks, ”Good,” before sitting down before his equipment.
”The fool! The weight, the gravity of bearing a curse! It is a tremendous burden. A responsibility even. And he veritably ignores it! I can hardly fathom the unmitigated, depthless arrogance and gall. Do they all utterly fail to glimpse the seriousness of this?”
His thoughts trail off as he stares blankly at his formula book where he sees his name scrawling across the pages in viscous streaks of blood. Shaking his head, he attempts to focus on the formulae and his work, trying to reason the macabre vision into vanishing.
These etchings are not real. They are a product of the Scribbler’s curse and nothing more. Ignore them. It is a simple matter to plainly ignore them…
After a time of struggling in vain to ignore his bloody name obscuring his notes, he rises and throws the simple stool into the wall in frustration. Slumping onto the corner of the bed, he buries his head in his hands.
Damn your death, Petros! I need you! Surrounded by myopic fools, I need you!
Feelings of fear and hopelessness crash over the alchemist as he sits alone. As his emotions at last slip from his control, his body contorts painfully as the beast within looses its chains once more. The physical pain though shocks Dantrian out of his morbidity. With a predatory snarl and disregarding the bulkiness of his twisted form, he rights the stool he so childishly threw and sits back down before his equipment.
We’ve no time for self pity, crass jokes, or ill-spent time. We’re heading back into Harrowstone in a few hours. We’ll need focus, discipline, and clarity of purpose if we’re to come back out of there at all. I hope those fools will be able to lay their pointless laughter and gossip aside. The two are anything but helpful. Now, let’s see… half a gram of powdered elder root…
Janos suffers Dantrian's tirade, but little can crush his mood this morning. In dark times like this is exactly when joys like last night should be cherished the most. Petros believed that with the right knowledge and the right tools everything could be overcome. I'm beginning to feel the same way myself. If there are unintended consequences to last night, they were exactly that - unintended. And we will solve or defeat whatever problems come out of it. It doesn't mean it wasn't worth it. It certainly helped that Anton and Tibideau did not share the Alchemist's view
As Kendra approaches it's all Janos can do to avoid grinning at her. He quickly takes another slice of ham to hide any signs. "B'yelka can show you the shop, Anton. I doubt the villagers will understand my axe hand. I'll stay here and try to make myself useful. Maybe Dantrian wants my help studying." He chuckles.
Janos suffers Anton's tirade
Anton steps out into the morning air, returning an hour or so later with his new bow.
Tibideau hears the stool clatter against the wall on the floor above them. "Maybe we should wait a little while and then go talk to him. Or we can send B'yelka. He's not mad at her. Yet!" He sighs. "The poor dear is being haunted by that spellbook, after all. And the whole wolf thing."
Drosil spends his night tossing and turning in his bed, plagued by images of all he'd been through the past few days. He awakes several times during the night, each time bathed in sweat.
He wakes later than the rest, and emerges from his room stumbling and bleary-eyed. "Well, I hope the rest of you slept well - I wasn't so lucky." He's oblivious to any exchanged glances or smirks, and heads straight for the coffee.
After pouring himself a generous cupful, he sits and nurses it, eyes closed, occasionally grabbing a piece of food and nibbling on it. After a little while, he seems to be a bit more invigorated, but not quite himself yet.
Once the party seems to be ready to head back to the prison, he heads upstairs to gather his things, splashes a generous amount of water on his face, and tries to put on a good face. We've got to be at least halfway done at this point, not much more to go...as long as we can survive.
Janos smiles at Kendra and heads outside to try and make himself useful while Anton goes shopping. Seeing as he has an axe strapped to his hand, he decides to see if the Lopper's Axe will work just as well on firewood. The short axe makes things harder than it would otherwise be, but by the time Anton returns, Janos has a small pile of cut firewood, which he carries into the house.
So. Are we ready to head back? The sooner we return the sooner we can conclude our business in that cursed placem
Everyone finishes up their business and says their goodbyes to Kendra. Then together they make the short walk back to the prison. It appears to be unchanged from how they left it the day before.
As they make their way back to the prison, Drosil attempts to confirm their current goals. "Okay, so we've taken care of Father Charlatan and the Piper, which leaves us the Lopper", a brief nod at Janos' axe-hand, "the Splatterman, and the Marauder, right? With only one haunt siphon left, I suppose we should hope they all stick together..." He tries to manage a grin, but fails miserably. He returns his focus to the ground in front of him and trudges on.
Rolling his eyes at Drosil's poor attempt at humor, Dantrian stalks onward toward the prison. "I suggest we enter through the sinkhole we discovered early yesterday morning. We should be cautious though, there is no way of knowing what kind of structural damage the deadfall may have caused. We would be wise to be mindful of our surroundings in addition to all else."
"I have some rope we can use to climb down the sinkhole. Dantrian's right though. If this one sink hole appeared, it may be possible for others to as well."
Anton carefully looks down the hole, trying to gauge its depth. Finding he can see nothing but blackness, he snaps a sunrod and drops it down.
We have rope to get down there but do we have enough light sources? Also, are you going to be ok climbing down there Janos? With your hand I mean.
"Tie a loop for my foot, if you would. Then lower me down after Dantrian and Janos." B'yelka whistles a melody and pulls a glowing coin from her sash. [/b]"No need to waste sunrods."[/b] she says with a smirk.
Janos ties off the rope to part of the old furnace and drops the end down. He peers down into the hole. "Ok, down the creepy hole." He grabs the rope and wraps his leg around end dangling to into the basement. He slowly slides down the rope one-handed.
Tibideau steps back and forth excitedly as Janos rappels down the hole. He then takes a scroll from his bag and swiftly reads it. A pearlescent glow emanates from the page and surrounds the witch.
I'll come down last and keep you covered s well as I can.
Eventually he makes his way down the rope and takes position with the others. Straining his eyes in the gloom he tries to make out his surroundings.
Janos descends into a cavernous chamber that may have once been an underground cellblock, but it has long since collapsed. The crumbled walls are thick with mold and stained with soot, and heaps of fallen stones and charred wooden beams line the area. Water drips and seeps along the walls, collecting in a dark, murky pool in the middle of the room from which the light of B'Yelka's enchanted coin weakly glows. To the north, the twisted remains of a wood and iron lift lie in a heap in a shallow portion of the pool. Twenty feet up yawns the ragged hole he came down through. To the west, a partially blocked opening seems to open up after several feet into a dark but stable tunnel.
Dantrian follows Janos down the rope, the alchemist taking deliberate care with his footing and grip. After a short descent, he stands beside the ranger and waits for the others.
Drosil carefully climbs down the rope, drawing his weapons and looking around expectantly for anything to come out of the shadows to attack them.
Anton steps off the rope into the pool and readies his bow.
He sees all the soot marks and visions of being trapped in a fiery box come rushing back to him.
My god. To die in flames.... I cannot imagine a worse death.
As the others lower themselves down the rope, Janos spreads out, trying to make out the rest of the room. He moves to the west and then back to the south.
Tibideau follows the others gingerly down the rope. When he joins them at the bottom of the cavern, he sniffs as though he has just detected a very offensive odor.
B'yelka watches as everyone except Anton descends Looks like they expect me to do this myself. Fine. She grasps the rope and turns her back to the pit. Trying to emilate what she watched the others do she holds one hand close to her hip, the other in front of her. Steppingoff of the precipice she descends...
...like a stone. A short scream escapes as she tries to correct her fall, twisting and turning...
The diva manages to slow herself some on the way down, but still lands with a *whuuff* and groan at the bottom.
Anton watches Janos move swiftly in and out of his meagre circle of light, keeping him covered as beat he can. The paladin Detects Evil trying to determine if any of the spirits of the damned still linger nearby.
Drosil feels the shadows envelop him as he wanders away from the light. Ah, I'd forgotten how natural the shadows felt. Perhaps... He approaches the others as the last of them descend. What would you all think of letting me scout ahead? I'm not terrible at it, and we fetchlings have some affinity for the dark, including being able to see within it."
Janos turns back when he hears B'yelka fall. He runs over to her and kneels down to see if she's hurt. He tries to help her up, supporting her under her arm. "Are you alright? That was a dicey first step."
He looks up at the Fletching. "Go ahead, Drosil. We'll gather them all here."
As Janos helps her to her feet, B'yelka hisses, "I am fine. Just embarassed this happened after the rehearsals." She tries to soften the harshness of her words by smiling at Janos. "Thank you for the help up, at least."
B'yelka shakes off the dust and dirt of her fall, wincing at a uncomfortable twinge in her elbow. Another skill I must practice. That was too easy to make me look so foolish. She readies her scourge in her right hand and holds up the glowing coin in her left. "Is two lights enough?"