Not.....yet....
Starting a late night tour of Harrowstone....
the memorial is at the very south, on the south bank of the river that divides the town. Feel free to comment or ask anything or do anything any time you want to.....I'm doing this in maybe 2 or 3 posts, so as not to get too much further ahead than you guys want to go.
(one detail changed; I put the prison NORTH, PAST THE CEMETARY, NOT SOUTH OF HARROWSTONE.....The group winds up the bank of the river bordered by a slight rise on the south and east, and then past an extremely ramshackle building; it looks like a personal domicile, but extremely dilapidated, maybe even abandoned. Then next to that is a barn, bordered by a field of pumpkins and rye, and the farmhouse right on the river; to the left from this point is a bridge across to the road that runs north, past the church of Pharasma, and on to the cemetary.
From these buildings, on the south/east side of the river, there is a road that dips south east, then northeast into the town square.THAT road passes the road south out of town, and what the deputy refers to as the house of "Councilwoman Maerta Straelock. She used to own the town tavern, but sold it right before joining the council."
Then, this road goes over a tiny bridge over a tiny creek, before swinging back northeast toward the middle of the town square.
The next building is on the left; the Professor's place where you guys are shacking up. There's a field of hay out back and a barn.
There's a light on inside in the parlor at the moment.
"I saw him, he was heading south long the river out of town. Away from town. Then, them zombies,....then they were upon me."
heh heh....V for victory......
"Does anyone live down that way?"
"Yeah; there's a couple.....three farms down there."
Frustrated that she's overlooking something, Larissa shakes her head, giving up on the mystery for a moment when something comes back to her, "Sir Castiel, Father Rholf, did you say in your dream you were in the prison -- and something began to write your names on the wall? Was it like the V on the monument?"
Castiel; Rholf:
“Now that you mention it Miss Brightfoot ... yes, exactly the same style of handwriting, and written in blood,” answers Castiel. “Although in my vision the letters appeared as if by a phantom hand. Hmmm,” he strokes his square jaw. “If there is some relation, perhaps the ‘V’ was the beginning of the name of a victim or target, rather than a perpetrator or some message?”
Edwin points out a few items from the treasure that he is capable of using. But makes no strong claim to any one thing. Yet. He does seem to be intrigued by the Ouija board and spirit traps, and while he doesn't mind if someone else carries them, he will probably be constantly pestering them for another look at them in the slow times if they do. :)
As for the armor of the semi-risen paladins, Edwin points out that the good father has made it clear that he doesn't mind if they use it, but obviously would like it returned once the danger is past. Not being particularly materialistic, He points out that this is not exactly a loss, since they still have the use of the armor for the duration. And may even be thanked by the good father later for 'cleaning and restoring valuable artifacts of defenders of the faith'. :)
On their way through the town, Edwin keeps an arrow knocked on his bow, and an eagle eye out for anything,... out of the ordinary,...
"INteresting, you actually saw yourselves as imprisoned in the prison? Before it was destroyed? And it seemed real? AND you two were able to communicate in the dream? Fascinating. This is definitely something I have not encountered before. Please, tell me the dream again, exactly as it happened. And please, be precise as to details. Leave out, nothing." He asks of the two as they walk.
Edwin doesn't see anything yet on the zombie front.
When he walks by the Lorrimer place, he can hear a rocking chair rocking in the parlor; the light that is on is evident.
;P
Edwin looks at the Lorrimer place. Then gives it a second look.
"Who would be up rocking at this time of night? I know the elderly are sometimes insomniatic, but,... excuse me a moment,..." The self-declared detective steps away from the group, his long strides taking him up to the Lorrimer doorway in a thrice. Tucking his bow (arrow still knocked) in his off-hand and holding it behind him, he politely knocks on the door.
Oh; it's the house of the Professor you guys are staying at.....still wanna knock?...
Lemme know if you guys wanna do anything; or which of the two roads you wanna swing up if nothing here piques your interest. I'll get the next little bit up tomorrow night, after the usual QnA session.
Alinya turns to Edwin and says, "I'm sure it's just Kendra up late, or one of the servants. Let's make sure the rest of the town is safe before we head into the Professor's house. Why don't we make for the Town Square next?"
"Sounds like good plan," Myron nods to Alinya. "The walking dead are mindless, right? They wouldn't be hanging out in the professor's stdy, reading philosophy and sipping brandy anyway."
"Sorry, zoned out for a moment there. Please continue Castiel,..."
Rholf turns and begins walking casually, heading for the town's square per Alinya's suggestion, the silent flames leaping from his hair lashing out at the darkness. He seems totally oblivious to it.
Passing by a few more farm houses, you reach the town square. It is
Roughly circular, 120 feet across, with a 50 foot wide covered wooden stage in the middle. The square (or circle) is surrounded by numerous businesses....the Laughing Demon where you dined earlier is at 10:00 up a small alley on the river.
At 4:OO is the town hall. at 7:00 is the forge, next to the road you're entering the square on. at 6:00, a place called "The Silk Purse."
At 3:00 is a bed and breakfast.....the "Outward Inn."
At 2:00, the General Store.
At 12:00 a road north,
At 11:00 the Jail.
At 9:00 a building; it has a medicine bottle sign.
In the center of this stage, you see a stocks set up, and there is a man in the stocks.
And on the southern edge of the stage, six guys, scent of too much carousing hits you; they're besotted.
One is cocking a crossbow.
He raises it, drawing down on the figure in the stocks.......
you're all 25 feet away when you make out just what is occuring.
“You there!” calls Castiel. “In the name of the Law, drop the crossbow!” He begins jogging towards the crossbow wielding person.
There's some unintelligible utterances, the crossbowman ignores the proclamation, and raises his weapon. Another dude blows the lot of you a raspberry....
Castiel will shoulderbarge the crossbow guy if he can. Bullrush on a charge: vs his CMD.
Larissa will move toward the man in the stocks. "Sir, why are you in these stocks?"
"Hold!" Rholf yells at the drunkards as he runs to a position between them and the man in the stocks. Once there, he will move toward the drunken fellows, staying between them and the helpless prisoner. Shield is at the read, hand on scimitar. "You'll not harm that prisoner, by Sarenrae. Get your foolishly drunken selves to your homes."
Intimidate:
One of them yells;
"Vulkya! Stop! The dumbass is gettin in the way!!!"
The man holding the crossbow has forearms corded like striated steel bridge support wires; he untriggers his weapon and lowers it as Rholf gets into his firing lane.
His eyes, piercing, hunter's eyes, stab into Rholf's; his brow unfurls then;
"What you are doing, rockheaded fool? Interfering with my target practice.....such a dangerous act!!!" he says to Rholf in a thick Varisian accent.
Castiel will shoulderbarge the crossbow guy if he can. Bullrush on a charge: 1d20 + 6 vs his CMD.
There's guys behind him; Castiel slams one of them into the crossbowman; the drunk that Castiel slammed falls prone after smashing into Vulkya, and Vulkya tries to point the crossbow at the ground as he fires. It hits another of the rabble in the foot, and that man starts howling in pain.
Vulkya looks at Castiel now;.....says "now look, look how you've spoiled my aim," matter-of-factly; he steps back, pantherlike, five feet and draws his backsword; an overly long, thin, curved slashing saber.
"Why do you do that?....."
Larissa will move toward the man in the stocks. "Sir, why are you in these stocks?"
The man in the stocks looks up.
"Mmmmmmmnurrrrrmmmmmmuuuuh..." he says, and sawdust pours out from between the stitchwork that sewed his lips shut.
There's allready 6 or 7 bolts in this man, bolts stuck in wounds that do not bleed......
“Shooting a restrained prisoner with a deadly weapon, criminal or not, is not right,” answers Castiel, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sheathed longsword, but not drawing it yet. He looks the Varisian in the eye. “And a restrained prisoner hardly makes good target practice. Let us not quarrel further, but see to your friend’s injury,” he adds in Varisian, the little used language of his ancestory sounding somewhat strange to his own ears.
"He'll live, Tlachyo...." the crossbowman says nonchalantly.
the last bit, in Varisian; has....no translation in 'Common.
"I was.....just showing them that crossbows don't do anything to them......"
the footshot lush crouches to one knee, bleeding and mewling. The others look on, really freaked out.
Castiel, surprised, looks back at the stocks – and realises that the target, while moving, is un-living.
“My apologies,” Castiel says to the swordsman, bowing slightly. “I acted rashly without fully comprehending the situation. Lady Alinya, Father Kastigarr, are one of you able to see to this gentleman’s foot?”
Alinys steps forward, clearly more interested in the strange creature in the stocks than in the freshly injured Varisian. "I am sure that Larissa or Rholf will be happy to de-quarrel that man's foot. Let me have a look at this thing here... Now what are you?"
Alinya's curiosity is clearly getting the better of her politeness, and of her sense of personal safety. Supremely confident that the stocks will hold this clearly magical creature, she pushes her way forward to within reach. Alinya stretches out her arm and lays a careful finger on the thing's forehead.
Nodding at Alinya's suggestion, Larissa moves over to the foot-shot man. "It's been a crazy night, we didn't understand what you were about. Let me tend your foot." Looking at his drunken companions, "Can a couple of you help me get him to a bench?"
Once there, she will work to remove the quarrel with the minimum of additional damage.
Heal
"I have no bandages, do one of you have something I can use to bind this wound?"
Seeing that things were not as they first appeared, Rholf drops his hand away from his scimitar, then moves to assist Larissa with the injured man, helping get him to a bench. "Excellently done, Miss Brightfoot." he offers at her skillful removal of the quarrel from his foot.
"I think we can forgo the bandage this time, though." Rholf channels positive energy to heal the man's foot.
Channel Positive Energy (Healing):
"There, the wound is closed now, though it will probably be sore for a few days."
Edwin catches up, peering through the darkness, trying to make sense of the dancing shadows cast by Rholf's flaming hair. When it becomes clear that things are under control, and the 'prisoner' is actually one of the undead they are looking for, he lowers his own weapon and joins the lady on the stage. He maintains a careful distance though, as he gives the creature his own critical examination,...
"Blasted shadows," He grumbles, unable to tell if the ting is trying to bite him, or or blow him a kiss.
He watches Lady Alinya's action with curiosity.
"So, what do you think my lady?" He asks, curious as to what she is doing with her forefinger on the creature's head.
"What kind of idiot put a zombie in the stocks? Just burn them up, scatter the ashes and move on." Shaking his head, Myron proceeds to do just that.
Alinys steps forward, clearly more interested in the strange creature in the stocks than in the freshly injured Varisian. "I am sure that Larissa or Rholf will be happy to de-quarrel that man's foot. Let me have a look at this thing here... Now what are you?"
Alinya's curiosity is clearly getting the better of her politeness, and of her sense of personal safety. Supremely confident that the stocks will hold this clearly magical creature, she pushes her way forward to within reach. Alinya stretches out her arm and lays a careful finger on the thing's forehead.
It's a zombie; DR 5/slashing....mindless, unrelenting, go until they are killed, which fortunately isn't too hard.
Seeing that things were not as they first appeared, Rholf drops his hand away from his scimitar, then moves to assist Larissa with the injured man, helping get him to a bench. "Excellently done, Miss Brightfoot." he offers at her skillful removal of the quarrel from his foot.
"I think we can forgo the bandage this time, though." Rholf channels positive energy to heal the man's foot.
Channel Positive Energy (Healing): 1d6
"There, the wound is closed now, though it will probably be sore for a few days."
"I....it feels better....thankyou! THANKYOU!...."
"What kind of idiot put a zombie in the stocks? Just burn them up, scatter the ashes and move on." Shaking his head, Myron proceeds to do just that.
"I just wanted to see how many crossbow bolts it could take. Just bored really." the crossbowman says.
"Naturally, I would dispose of it properly after a bit of sport....."
"You're welcome, sir. Now, as to these foul undead, they are not sport. They are not something to be trifled with or played at. They are to be destroyed as quickly as possible, much the way my companion" Rholf indicates Myron "just said. They are an abomination, and should be treated as such." With that, Rholf turns and walks to assist Myron, drawing his mace as he follows.
"Oh! A zombie. Of course, how silly of me. I've only read about them before, you see, and hadn't expected the sawdust. Off you go the, Myron and Rholf."
Alinya stands well back as the zombie is put to rest.
"Perfectly understandable my dear lady. I find that ones first sight of such creatures is quite a bit more unsettling than even the most descriptive of tales can prepare one for. Now, let us watch as our companions demonstrate the proper way to dispose of such atrocities." Edwin says, taking Alinya gently by the elbow and stepping back to allow Myron and Rholf room to work. After a moment of watching, he pulls out a small battered notebook, and makes notes as the disposal process commences.
Approaching the thing, Rholf matter of factly reaches out a hand, praying to Sarenrae softly.
Channel positive energy (harm undead):
If that is not enough to do the thing in, Rholf will take his mace to it with cold efficiency.
Rholf starts beating it; the pos energy doesn't do the trick.
And beating it.
And.....
beating it.....
the crossbowman pipes up;
"And, my friends,...a bludgeoning weapon seems to be equally unaffective as a piercing weapon, as I showed you with mine crossbow here. Anybody counting how many times he's smashed the thing?......"
Aid Another Knowledge (Religion)
"Rholf, didn't Sir Jamison tell us you got the best effect when you chose the best weapon? What's the weapon for zombies?"
A great sage, Max Brooks,......*sic*
said a crowbar, since it can be used to destroy their head AND can be used to open barred doors when fleeing a horde of them,.......
but in Pathfinderland,......a standard zombie,.......apparently slashing weapons pwn them.
Alinya/anybody with the skill.....
the crossbowman has a RING on his RIGHT INDEX FINGER.
Knowledge: nobility......
And,.....called in......see you guys in 5 hours maybe.
Rholf puts away his mace, and draws his scimitar. "It's a good thing to learn that in a setting such as this. A lesson I shall take to heart." With that, Rholf takes to the thing's head with his blade.