There are several magical auras at the bottom of the oubliette, under the water.
It looks like Magic under the water." B'yelka waits expectantly for one of the men to fish out what ever it is. I wonder, will I have to race to beat Tibi into the bath when we get back to Kendra's?
At Dantrians insistence to leave immediately, Anton simply puts his back to a wall slides down and sits heavily on the cold floor.
He has a headache unlike any he has every experienced and he can still feel the cold touch of the Splattermans fingers on his cheek.
Just give us a moment Dantrian, please.
He lets his bow fall from his hand and says a silent prayer.
He's gone, Vesoriana. As I promised, he is gone...
As B'yelka points out the magical auras in the oubliette, the paladin volunteers to retrieve them.
"Take as many moments as you like." Dantrian's tone is tired and sharp, though whether he intends it to be so isn't clear. "You sit in the ruin of a prison, in a remote basement that just had part of the ceiling collapse nearly atop our heads. A moment may be all we have." Then, at B'yelka's announcement of magic lingering beneath the water in the oubliette, "If you mean to plunder it, I suggest doing so quickly." Dantrian glances up at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the paths of the largest fissures and cracks.
Anton shakes his had at the alchemists obstinance.
I tell you what, Dantrian you do what you like. I beg your forgiveness at wanting to take a second to reflect on the fact the most evil creature I have ever had the misfortune to encounter just tore most of my face off. Not much gets to me, but that's right up there on the list, ok?
Even now the man has no empathy or sense of comeradary at all.
Dantrian pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Well, if the ceiling collapses atop you, you'll certainly have all the time you could ever want for introspection, Anton. I'm merely trying to preserve our lives. Just because the Splatterman is vanquished, doesn't mean this prison can't or won't still kill us."
You're merely beginning to wear my patience thin with this superior attitude... the paladin thinks and then chastises himself for being ungracious and tries to help with the grate.
Tibideau rolls his eyes at his squabbling companions and stands next to B'yelka on the edge of the oubliette. He puts his fingertips together in anticipation. "I wonder what little treasures will be down there?" he says, excitedly stepping from one foot to the other.
Hearing Dantrian's comments, Drosil replies, "I think we're safe for the moment, Dantrian - the collapse was mostly triggered, I think, by the explosion. The rest of it seems solid enough."
Then, seeing Anton pulling himself off the floor to retrieve the items, Drosil waves him back down. "Don't worry about it, Anton - I can do this."
He drops his backpack on the floor, then dives into the oubliette. He forces his body down to the bottom, using his darkvision to see and retrieve the items there.
B'yelka frets a bit while Drosil does his swim. He always finds trouble when he goes out alone! To cover her nervousness, she grabs Tibideau's hand and in a stage whisper, "We did it! You were marvelous!"
Tibideau squeezes B'yelka's hand and beams. "YOU were marvelous! I'm a huge fan of that thing you do when you sing those dreadful notes! Very forward-thinking!"
At the bottom of the watery cell lie three items. A masterfully made longsword, a beautiful mithril dagger and a man's golden ring set with three emeralds.
Wide-eyed with wonder, Tibideau inspects the items carefully. "What a find! The sword is extremely sharp and deadly. Great for slicing and dicing. The dagger is also magical. And this ring...," he pauses, almost breathless as he admires the glittering emeralds, "Offers extra protection to the wearer. A real prize!" He holds it up next to B'yelka's fabulously undone hair. "And extremely flattering on redheads!"
Seeing he's the only one interested in the sword, Janos takes the magic weapon. "Let's get out of here. We can visit Vesioranna on the way out just to confirm she can contain the spirits now, but otherwise let's get back to the town. We need to check on Gibbs and the statue."
-Posted with Wayfinder
On the way out B'yelka gives Anton space to express himself to Vesorianna. I know it was important to him to do this for her. On the way back to town the Diva is quiet, except for some intermittent humming as she puts together an acceptance speech. I would like to first say that our success in Harrowstone was because e never lost sight of each other. We all play a role in this drama; Drosil our eyes and ears, Dantrian our wiil, Janos our hands, and Anton our heart.... bah... no that sounds bad...
-Posted with Wayfinder
As they eventually trudge out of the decrepit building, Anton finds even the watery light of the sun through the overcast clouds blinding.
Shielding his eyes, he makes his way to the grave of Lyvar and Vesoriana, kneeling before it and saying a short prayer.
He is unusually quiet on the way back to town. No reflection on what happened at the prison, no laughing and celebrating with B'yelkaand Tibideau. He wears a serious expression and runs his hands through the long multicolored scarf ever present around his neck.
I know now you are waiting for me. Watching. I hope I continue to make you and mother proud.
The group makes their way out of the basement of the prison. Its ruined passages are eerily silent now that all the restless spirits have been deal with. They climb back out of the lift shaft and return to Vesorianna's burial site. She is waiting there for them, smiling. "I can sense that you were successful. Now I can use Lyvar's old badge to cleanse the ruins of Horrowstone, and go to join my beloved in rest. Thank you, truly, I can never repay you."
Vesorianna holds aloft the warden's badge, and it begins to glow. Slowly at first, and then brighter and brighter, until a burst of light explodes out from the badge to wash over the prison grounds. The warden's wife smiles as she fades away into nothingness, waving goodbye. The badge floats for a moment in the air, before drifting gradually down to rest on the grass. It is still glowing with a soft, warm light.
Drosil is noticeably less morose as the party leaves the prison building, and even smiles broadly as they walk into the sunlight. He sighs and stretches his arms out, relaxing visibly. It's odd, but I feel a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Is it just me, or is the sun shining a bit brighter, the day becoming a bit warmer, after our work here today?
He notes Anton's reflective mood, though, and refrains from clapping him on the back and giving voice to the relief he feels inside. He hovers behind his childhood friend as he kneels before the grave, silently squeezes his shoulder as he stands, and walks silently beside him as they leave the prison grounds.
Dantrian remains quiet as the group works their way back out of the prison. His chest still hurts, terribly in fact, but he bears the pain with a characteristic stoicism. He stands off to the side as Vesorianna is at last laid to final rest, his posture rigid and his arms crossed.
How did we all survive that befouled place? It doesn't particularly matter, the task is finished and the goal achieved. But Petros' murderers, this 'Whispering Way' are still at large. I wonder if the others will see fit to pursue them once we've satisfied Petros' will.
It feels good to have finally achieved something. For the past fewdays it just felt like we were swimming against the tide. I cannot speak for the rest of you but I think my journey is only just begining. I will deliver the books as the Professor requested and then... I think I have business with this Whispering Way. the paladin says grimly.
I would love to have any of you join me on that journey, hard as it may be. But each man and woman must choose their own path. Anyway, these are dark thoughts for another day. Let's just enjoy giving the town some good news for a change.
Tibideau positively floats back to town, completely oblivious to the quiet, contemplative moods of the others. He pesters B'yelka with questions, barely listening to Anton. "Where should we go first? We have so much to do! We need to tell EVERYONE that the prison is clear," he babbles. "Who should we tell first? Obviously Father Grimburrow and what's left of the Town Council. We need to find that Gibs and see if he's cursed anymore. And hopefully there won't be any more dead cats. And Miss Kendra probably needs a moment with you-know-who. And I," he stops in his tracks and points at himself majestically, "Need a big fat glass of brandy!"
He hears Anton say something about going on a journey. "Another journey, I'm going. I just need a drink, a nap, and a snack first," he declares.
As they walk back triumphantly, Janos hears the echoes of Vesorianna’s last words. I can never repay you. He smiles at the good work they’ve done and looks towards Ravengro, eager to share the news with Kendra. As is normal for him, the whispers fill his ears as well. They were still growing louder and he swore he could almost make out individual words, but it still seemed a language foreign to him.
Well, maybe we can help one of you! Vesorianna’s voice echoes in his ears with a girlish giggle very unlike the mournful woman they left. Janos looks left and right, but sees no sign of the spirit. They were well outside Harrowstone’s ground now. Was he hallucinating? He shook his head and didn’t hear her anymore. Strangely, though the whispers seemed to have died down as well. In fact, they were barely audible.
Janos glances back at the others still giddy in their hard-fought victory. Maybe he was just tired from the battle. He shrugs to himself and keeps on walking. Any thoughts of the spirit fall away as he spots Kendra’s house. "A drink sounds wonderful, Tibideau. A small celebration is in order, I think too." The half-elf smiles.
"I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this
parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with
the exception of the specific details below, I leave my home and
personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them or
sell them as you see fit, my child."
“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this
document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading
of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I
have two final favors to ask."
“To my old friends, I hate to impose upon you all, but there are
few others who are capable of appreciating the true significance of
what it is I have to ask. As some of you know, I have devoted many
of my studies to all manner of evil, that I might know the enemy and
inform those better positioned to stand against it. For knowledge
of one’s enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans."
“And so, over the course of my lifetime, I have seen fit to acquire
a significant collection of valuable but dangerous tomes, any one
of which in the wrong circumstances could have led to an awkward
legal situation. While the majority of these tomes remain safe under
lock and key at the Lepidstadt University, I fear that a few I have
borrowed remain in a trunk in my Ravengro home. While invaluable
for my work in life, in death, I would prefer not to burden my daughter with the darker side of my profession, or worse still, the danger of possessing these tomes herself. As such, I am entrusting my chest of tomes to you, posthumously. I ask that you please deliver the collection to my colleagues at the University of Lepidstadt, who will put them to good use for the betterment of the cause."
“Yet before you leave for Lepidstadt, there is the matter of
another favor—please delay your journey one month and spend
that period of time here in Ravengro to ensure that my daughter is
safe and sound. She has no one to count on now that I am gone,
and if you would aid her in setting things in order for whatever she
desires over the course of this month, you would have my eternal
gratitude. From my savings, I have also willed to each of you a sum
of one hundred platinum coins. For safekeeping, I have left these
funds with Embreth Daramid, one of my most trusted friends in
Lepidstadt—she has been instructed to issue this payment upon
the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one month
after the date of the reading of this will."
Kendra is overjoyed to see the group. She's sitting on the porch of the house as they return. She stands up, smiling. As soon as the group is near, she runs forward and hugs Janos. "So, tell me, is it done? Is Ravengro safe?"
Dantrian lingers at the site of the prison for some time, not willing to risk returning to Ravengro while his body remained twisted by his curse. As Vesorianna's image fades, Dantrian turns aside and seeks out the corner of the structure where the professor died.
As the curse loosens its grip on the alchemist in a painful shudder, Dantrian rises, his mood still somber and stoic despite their success.
---
"The spirits of the prison are bound once more. Whether or not you and the town are now safe remains to be seen." Dantrian then excuses himself and heads into the house. He walks upstairs and to his room, recovering his formula book from the corner of the room where he'd thrown it earlier and sits down at his equipment. I wonder if Feramin knew what he had taken from me with his curse. Shaking his head, he opens his book and relishes reading the words and numbers without having to filter through his name dripping down the pages in blood.
He brews up a curative drought before taking up a quill and writing down some ideas inspired by their foes in the prison. Could blows be blunted? Perhaps there is some way to mirror or approximate the spirits' resiliency to physical assault.
A shudder passes through Dantrian's body after drinking his extract, the restorative triggering something within his body. The last remnants of his chest wounds tingle, and the alchemist glances down and watches in amazement as the wounds completely heal, seemingly of their own accord.
That- that is new.
The spirits of the prison are bound once more. Whether or not you and the town are now safe remains to be seen
I believe he means yes. Anton says with his customary optimism
Serving Your Hunger: This text is a copy of one of several unholy books sacred to the goddess Urgathoa. Lorrimor’s notations liberally sprinkle the margins.
The Umbral Leaves: This lexicon is a translation into Common of the unholy book of Zon-Kuthon
Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye (which you guys picked the lock on):The rich purple cover contains a brass scarab set with a single eye in its center. The book’s contents seem strangely out of place compared to the other texts, for while it contains detailed descriptions of a number of ancient ceremonies, both magical and mundane, they are more concerned with purely arcane or mathematical topics and have very little sinister about them at all.
"That's great news! We should go to The Laughing Demon and celebrate!" Kendra says excitedly. "I'm sure the whole town will want to know. We all suspected since nothing weird has happened since this morning, but it'll be good for them to know for certain. They'll want to thank you all."
We'd be delighted to! Anton laughs, a a big stupid grin almost splitting his face in two.
B'yelka and Tibi will want to look their best I'm sure and when they are done in going to have a long soak in that bath, I feel like I need to wash that place off me.
Turning to the others he says;
Put your glad rags on ladies and gents! I guess for me that means my shirt with just the one hole at the elbow haha!
Janos grabs Kendra, lifts her off the ground, and twirls her around. "Yes! Celebration! You think we can get Father Grimburrow to dance?" He kisses her. "Now that the ghosts are gone, we can spend the rest of the month taking care of other matters." He grins at Kendra.
Tibideau smacks Anton on the back heartily. "Go ahead and beat me to the bath, Anton. I'M heading for the kitchen," he announces. He breezes past the others and beelines for the liquor cabinet. He pours a tall drink of brandy and snatches up some snacks. He sits down at the table to enjoy his refreshments and stares dreamily at the wall.
B'yelka does her best to hurry once in the bath. Her relief at surviving makes her savor the warm water too much, though. Once done she brushes past Anton in the hall with a whispered, "Sorry". Once back in her room she gets ready to face Ravengro again; hair perfect, makeup just so and black satin dress. She looks much as she did the day she arrived. Except rather than dust, she wears a patina of experience she never had before.
Anton patiently waits for his turn in the bathroom by brewing some strong dark coffee and sipping at it idly in the garden.
He takes a sip of the bitter sweet liquid, enjoying how it warms him from within and strolls with no particular purpose.
Even the air feels different now. Like a weight has been lifted from this town.
His mind keeps wandering back to the dream (vision? epiphany?) he had in the darkest reaches of the prison - like some forgotten bit of furniture he keeps tripping over in the backroom of his consciousness.
He pushes it to one side again and returns to the living room to heat water over the fireplace and after what seems like forever, he slips into the bath of warm water with a contented sigh and falls almost instantly asleep.
When eventually he does dress, he steps out of his room looking almost like a different man. He wears soft brown doeskin breeches and a plain white shirt of pressed cotton that fits smoothly over his broad archers back. His chestnut hair is washed and brushed and sits loosely to the nape of his neck while his strong jaw has seen a razor for the first time in days. No longer does he look like the vagabond who entered Ravengro, but a tall, handsome assured man.
My lady. he says to B'yelka. Beautiful as ever. Although I'm yet to see Tibideau. I'll warrant he looks outlandish and magnificent in equal parts.
Then as Drosil passes close by he puts a hand on his friends shoulder and whispers;
You were amazing in there. I knew those years of creeping around in the girls dormitory would come in handy! What do you think, ready to be a hero instead of a rogue for once? that smile, beaming again.
Tibideau heats up a large pot of water as he relaxes in the kitchen. When the water is ready, he heads upstairs with the pot and the bottle of brandy in tow. After Anton is done in the bath, Tibideau fills the tub with his own water and enjoys himself with another drink. He cleans all the important areas and washes his hair, then puts on a simple robe and returns to his room. He pours some lukewarm water in a bowl for Bonbon, and sets the turtle loose on some tiny fish. He lets his brown hair dry naturally into loose, shiny waves, and attends to his rather overgrown eyebrows. He leaves his stubble on his face. I look insanely handsome with a beard. Bonbon splashes excitedly in response. I knew you'd agree! Tibideau puts on a navy blue cotton shirt with pin-thin dark pink stripes, and a beautifully made pair of dark brown wool pants. He adds an outrageous camel-brown leather vest and suit jacket, tailored to perfection.* He gleefully puts on his new emerald ring. He peeks in the mirror and winks.
"I'll be back for YOU before we leave," he tells Bonbon.
He flounces down the stairs, holding the bottle of brandy and his cup and pretending not to already be rather sloshed. He grabs some extra cups from the kitchen and sets them down on the living room table next to the brandy. "Who wants to share? And does anyone know where I can get some tobacco?" he queries. He sips his drink in a ladylike fashion. He winks at B'yelka. "Lookin' good, Red." He notices Anton and almost spits out a bit of his drink. "Who did that to YOU? Lookin' sharp! Your hair is almost as dashing as mine!" he says, shaking his chocolate-colored mane.
Janos sits in Kendra’s room buttoning his shirt and pulling his boots on. It was been good to have a bath to wash the blood and grime from the prison off him. He looks down at his shirt. At least this one has less holes than the other. He still wasn’t quite used to the need to look respectable, but it was slowly learning. Maybe B’yelka and Kendra would help him find a new shirt later. Humming comes from the corner as Kendra looks for a special necklace for the occasion. Finishing with his boots, he turns to his new cloak sitting on the bed and is suddenly startled by the faint outline of two ghostly figures standing in the room. One of them, however, was familiar. ”Vesorianna? What are you doing here?”
Kendra’s head raises up and she looks around the room. ”Janos, who are you talking to? Is someone here?” She looks concerned, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time spirits have turned a happy moment into something to dread.
Janos looks at her and then back to the ghosts. He starts to say something, but is interrupted by the ghosts. Be at ease, Janos. This far from our graves, we don’t have much power and your...abilities help to hear us. We mean no harm. We can’t stay long, but my husband and I have a parting gift for you. The ranger can see their forms waver, but their voices stay strong.
He turns to Kendra, saying ”It’s ok. It’s the Warden’s wife, and she says only I can hear her.” A different look of concern crosses Kendra’s face, but she nods slowly and stays silent.
The second form, much weaker than Vesorianna, speaks. My wife tells me of the work you and your friends did. I’m very grateful. I don’t have time to explain what happened, but thanks to your work, I’m finally reunited with my wife if only in a fashion. But our time among the spirits have taught me a few things and I think we can help you, young man.
Vesorianna chimes in. The whispers you hear are spirits too, much weaker and less formed than ghosts like us. They belong to the land, not to people though, which is why it’s much more difficult for them to be heard.
You can hear them, though, young man. Warden Hawkran continues. You just need some translation. He chuckles. Actually, the spirits know you can hear them. They wonder why you ignore them. I had to try to explain it, but I’m not sure they understand. Anyway, I think we can help. We can give you the ability to understand them. It will still take you some time to decipher their ramblings, but you’ll learn. You may find it easier to communicate with the land more familiar to you. Swamp rat, right? Peat bogs, swamp grass, and water lilies may be easier to hear. But more will come to you later. I have no doubt.
A young man such as yourself can draw power from the spirits too. They can be very helpful, but remember that they have little understanding of the human world. You’ll need to protect them and treat them delicately. Now, enough talk. The faint form reaches out for Janos, but the Ranger shies away from the touch.
It’s ok, Janos. Here, I’ll help. Vesorianna places a hand on his arm and guides her husband’s hand to his shoulders. As the Warden rests his hands on him, Janos hears a rush of the whispers and a chill goes through his body. The whispers quickly grow louder and louder, and within seconds Janos is overwhelmed. He recoils and doubles over, clutching his ears to stop the noise. Slowly, the whispers die down, but as the intensity subsides, Janos can begin picking out individual voices. Soon, he is able to concentrate on a single tiny voice that he realizes he can actually understand! Janos opens his eyes and finds Kendra holding his hand. He straightens and looks around, but there’s no trace of the Warden or his wife.
Hey! Listen! A tiny shrill voice penetrates Janos’ ears. He turns to look and finds a bouquet of swamp flowers lying on the nightstand. A ghostly tag is visible for a split second and simply says ‘V’.
Hey! Listen! The voice repeats. ”Is that you?” Janos says.
”Is what me?” Kendra asks, still holding his hand with a worried look. Janos shakes his head. ”No, not you, love. I...I think I can hear the flowers.” Kendra looks over to the nightstand and her eyes grow wide as she sees the bouquet.
Hey! Yes, you can finally hear me! We were beginning to think you were just being rude.
Yes, I can hear you now. Janos responds in his mind. Sorry, I needed some help to understand things. Go easy, I’m learning.
Fine. But you better learn. Some are quite cross with you. I suppose it should be expected though. Mortals never listen. Go do your mortal things. I’ll be here.
Janos smiles and looks at Kendra. ”I’m ok. The Warden gave me something. I’ll tell you all about it later. For now, maybe we should put those flowers in some water.”
Once everyone is ready to depart, the group heads out to the Laughing Demon. Kendra is wearing a high necked, ankle length, skin tight black dress, under a mink half cloak. Her hair is braided into several small braids, which she twisted up into a bun held in place with a jade comb from Tian Xia (a gift from her father, she'd said).
The Laughing Demon is Ravengro's only tavern. The owner is a rotund, red faced man named Zokar Elkarid. He and his son were at professor Lorrimor's funeral. The man seemed pleasant enough given the circumstances. Zokar Elkarid holds the philosophy that the best way to meet the horrors of the world is with a jest, for if one can laugh at the worst life has to offer, there remains little to fear. His warm and friendly tavern does its best to live up to this admirable philosophy, down to the menu.
The taven is in a boistrous mood, packed to the brim with drunken locals. They usher the group up to the bar and Zokar offers them whatever they want on the menu for free. He takes pains to come up with humorous names for his drinks and meals, with offerings like vampire steaks (cuts of beef skewered on thick wooden spikes), wolf balls (lamb meatballs served on plates painted to look like the face of the full moon), corpse chowder (a thick stew with red broth and chunks of meat), and liquid ghosts (a sweet pale ale that glows faintly with a greenish tint). He also has the standard assortment of liquors -wine from Taldor and Cheliax, Oldlaw whiskey from Andoran, he's even got a bottle of shackles Rum and one of Irriseni vodka stashed for special occasions. Occasions like tonight.
Drosil, glad to see Anton's mood (and style) much improved, decides that it is indeed time for a celebration. He doesn't bother to warm the water for his bath, as no amount of soaking would wash the taint of that place off. He does, however, use a liberal amount of soap and emerges, shivering and invigorated.
He dresses in his finest blacks, accentuating his monochromatic skin, and straps on his new dagger...just in case.
Drosil orders a bowl of corpse chowder, hoping that it will warm him up sufficiently and that he'll be able to choke it down despite the name. He waves off the offer of a liquid ghost, however, the memories still too fresh. Instead, he gets a glass of Taldoran red to go with his stew.
Janos and Kendra walk into the tavern together, looking quite the pair with her in her mink and his sable cloak. He's happy to look like he might belong with her, but relived that eyes on her might mean the rest of his clothing will go unnoticed.
They sit at the table with the others and laughs at the menu items. He makes as face as he sees the 'Corpse Stew' Drosil begins eating and just can't brig himself to order it, given their sights the past few days. Instead, he opts for the Vampire Steaks and some of the Liquid Ghosts. He raises a toast to the whole bar.
"Well, everyone, we banished the spirits from the prison and tonight we celebrate! We arrived to this town as strangers, but I feel as if we're family here now. One thing I do regret in all this is the Town Hall burning. I'd like to help begin to rebuild a new one. We're here for several weeks more and I for one will do what I can to begin the new structure." He smiles at the crowd.
"And, Zokar, pour a round of drinks for everyone!"
At the restaurant, Tibideau sits next to Dantrian and peruses the menu. "HA! Wolf balls. I'm having that," he says, giggling childishly. He nudges Dantrian in the ribs. "But you might want to steer clear of those!" He raises his hand to flag down Zokar. "Sir, I'll definitely try the wolf balls and that GHOSTLY pale ale! I'm usually a liquor boy, but I can't resist a drink special!"
He pats his chest pocket and finds no response. Asleep again, little crumble? he thinks. A tiny turtle foot wiggles in response. I won't bother you. Say something if you want some booze! The foot retreats back into its shell.
Tibideau whispers to Dantrian, "You'd better get something to drink, too. I'm sure B'yelka and Anton are going to launch into some rather lengthy speeches here in a bit." He flashes a good-natured grin.
The sweaty, fat orb of Councilman Hearthmont's face appears in the crowd, which gently parts as the rotund older man shuffles his way to the bar. "Ah! The town's heroes! We've taken a collection from everyone. Just a little something to show you all how grateful we are that you've saved Ravengro."
The councilman reaches into his vest, and pulls out a suede purse. He sets it on the bar where the group is sitting, and undoes the string, smiling. The bag spills open, revealing it's full of copper, silver and gold coins. There are even a few platinum pieces in there.
The heroes are served before everyone else, and Zokar keeps the drinks coming as fast as they order them.