heh heh....
nitey nite!
Castiel agrees with Rholf’s request for a talk.
Alinya, to her slight chagrin, has not noticed anything amis with Rholf. Her nose has been buried in the Professor's library. Some days earlier, she asked Edwin if he would be able to open the locked book, the one with the scarab embossed on the cover. Curiosity can only be resisted for so long, after all.
She attends Rholf's meeting looking a little tired, but generally happy.
"What's going on? My word, Father Kastigarr! Are you well?"
Larissa readily agrees to the meeting. Her concern doesn't allow her to sit without a lot of fidgeting, so she chooses to stand, back in a corner where she's not blocking anyone's view of whoever is speaking.
Her mismatched eyes never leave Father Kastigarr for more than a moment or two.
Without preamble, Rholf proceeds...
"I beg your forgiveness for my recent moodiness, which I know has caused you at the very least concern, and at the most, I fear, suspicion." Slumping into a chair, he continues while unconsciously scratching his unshaven face. "Until just a few hours ago, I was certain that my... problem... was of no relevance to the goings on here in Ravengro. Indeed, I had discovered no hint whatsoever of any connection between what I live with and what was plaguing this community until after we'd cleared the prison, and it still may not have anything to do with what was going on here, though I find that a difficult premise to accept."
"I did not speak of what was bothering me because, quite frankly, I am accustomed to dealing with it and," pausing briefly, he makes a slight sweeping motion towards all of the companions "I felt that it would be more of a distraction than it warranted. That, and I did not want to..." He lets the sentence die unexpressed. After another brief pause, he continues, having slipped into the monotone delivery only slightly, making his voice seem even flatter and more devoid of energy than before.
"None of you are aware of this, and it's not something I share with many... Seven years ago, I was a simple farmer. I had a wife and two children. And then one day, as I was working in the fields, they were taken. Followers of Norgorber took them by force. By the time I returned home, finding the place a shambles, evidence of violence all about, the cult had already had hours with which to work their deeds. Of course, I lit out from home, abandoning everything except sword and hope in my quest to reclaim my family. But I was... too late. When I found them, discarded like soiled refuse, all that was left for me to do was weep while I buried them." Rholf's gaze is detatched, giving no indication that he sees any of the assembled group. "I tried for days, raging thirst for vengeance consuming my heart, to track down the cult responsible for murdering my family. But, a simple farmer makes a terrible detective, it seems. Unable to give my wife and children justice, I slipped into despair..."
Rholf sits silently for a time, as if playing out the rest of the story in his mind, but after a moment, he blinks several times, forcing unshed tears from his eyes to crawl lazily down his cheeks. His eyes focus again, and fully aware of his surroundings once more, he continues. "That is why, my friends, I have been so moody and sullen of late. Yesterday was the anniversary of their deaths. I did not share this with you because my personal tragedies are not uncommon to this world, and it only would've served to avert our eyes from necessary goals. I only tell you now because it appears that my past is being dredged up for some nefarious purpose." As he says this last bit, Rholf produces letter, which he tossed onto the table.
The only regret I have about my short life, is it didn't end after spending a long life as your wife, and mother to your children.
I know we will be reunited though.......we'll have an eternity then.
Your love,
Sabine
"It is in my wife's hand, though I am loathe to believe that she held the quill. So," he concludes "there you have it. For reasons yet unknown to me, my past has been brought into our current ills. I... have grieved the lady of this house, somehow, and I have no idea how I came to be so filthy this night." Indicating his disheveled appearance. "I fear that I've become too much a liability here, and will remove myself forthwith to the Inn in town. My personal demons will not torment others while I yet breathe." He says the last with no small amount of intensity.
As the tormented cleric states flatly what's been weighing on him all these years, the girl in the corner is heard to gasp as the meaning of his words hits her. Those who look see she has firmly covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes open wide. As he continues, she squeezes her eyes closed, forcing large tears to slip down over her hands and down her arms to drop on the rug.
When he's done, she hesitantly moves up beside him and leans over to give him a tight hug, laying her head on his back. "Father Kas... Rholf - I never knew, never suspected," she whispers.
Releasing him, she kneels beside the chair. "You are as close to family as I have. Like a big brother I never had. Your demons are my demons. You do not have to bear this weight alone anymore." With some intensity of her own, she adds, "This I swear."
Edwin sits slouched in one of the armchairs. As Rholf speaks he steeples his fingers and stares intently at nothing.
When the priest is finished, Edwin picks up the letter with a 'may I?' gesture.
"My sincere condolences on your loss. Being out of sorts on such a tragic anniversary is completely understandable." He murmurs as he gingerly opens it. After swiftly scanning the page, he holds it flat, looking at it from the edge. He then inspects the back. He holds it up to the nearest lamp and examines it again while Larissa goes over and hugs Rholf.
"Indeed Father Kastigar. There may indeed be something afoot here. Or it could be merely an elaborate and cruel hoax. Either way, I'm certain we all agree that separating yourself from those best suited to assist you in solving this little mystery is hardly the wisest course of action." Edwin agrees with Larissa as he examines the parchment.
"So, let us hear no more talk of segregating yourself. Instead, let us turn our attentions to discovering what we DO know. Let us begin with this letter. You say you recognize the handwriting, although logically it cannot be so. At first glance I can deduce little else from the page,... except,..."
"And now, you say you do not recall how you became covered in dirt. What DO you recall doing last? And please, leave out no detail, no matter how small,..."
For the first time in a couple of days, a genuine smile creeps into Rholf's visage at Larissa's concern and loyalty. "I am grateful." is all he can manage at the moment, and he looks somewhat uncomfortable at the emotions welling up. Giving Larissa a reassuring nod, he turns his attention to Edwin, focusing on the detective's question. Clearing his throat, he sits up a little straighter before answering. "I remember waking up on the couch, in this state, about 20 minutes ago. I apparently did something in my sleep, or before laying down there, that upset Miss Lorimor. When I inquired, she..." He falters for a second, clearly distraught that he'd frightened her. "She was scared. I do not remember... I remember waking up this morning, and dressing. I remember prayer time and breakfast... Not much else. I didn't sleep well last night."
“Rholf ... I did not know ... While such words make little difference, I am so sad for your loss.” Castiel bows his head and offers a silent prayer to Iomedae. “And I ask your forgiveness for my unjustified suspicion,” he adds after a moment. “If there is anything I can do to help you see justice done, say the word my friend.”
“I cannot speak for our gracious hostess,” the paladin continues, “but I know that Miss Lorrimor has a kind and good soul; and alarm that she may have exhibited I feel sure is out of concern for your wellbeing, rather than any fear of your actions. I agree completely with Miss Brighfoot and Edwin,” Castiel looks momentarily surprised that he agrees completely with Edwin, “I believe it would be better and safer both for yourself and everyone else for you to stay here.”
The tall man taps his cheek for a moment. “Rholf, is there anything else you can tell us about the people you met at the inn? The people that presumably left you that letter that appears to be in your wife’s handwriting? They may be the key to solving both your personal mystery and the question of why what happened at Harrowstone did.”
"It's okay." Rholf says "None of you knew. You acted and reacted naturally. As for justice, I am confident that its full measure will be meted out in the afterlife." Rholf hesitates for a few seconds, apparently struggling internally with something, then he finally relents. "I will stay, but only with the blessing of Miss Lorimor. If she is the slightest uncomfortable with the idea, out I go, and that is the end of debate on that matter."
At Castiel's questioning, Rholf closes his eyes, replaying the encounter over and again in his mind... After a few moments, he begins to speak again. "He... knew my name. Knew I was there to purchase kettleberry wine. He alluded, rather cryptically, to knowing how often I have it. He was thin and very pale. So much so that, along with his creepily cut fingernails, I had to observe him closely to make sure he was not some kind of undead or other abomination. A ring... He had a signet ring... It was" Rholf's brow furrows slightly as he focuses his mind's eye on the man's ring... "It was red, with a pentagram and a... A gold circle."
"He offered me wine. There were three glasses on the table, though I didn't see anyone else in the room, and the door was almost fully opened. I didn't enter, and didn't drink or touch anything. He said that we had 'acquaintances in common'. He really focused his attention on the third glass for a fair bit of the conversation... Even stuck a finger into it, and played about the rim of the glass after he withdrew his finger from the wine. It made a... a high, humming sound."
Rholf opens his eyes again as he continues. "As I walked away, the door closed, and I heard two voices, one of them female. I couldn't make out much, but I did hear... Something like... 'No, I don't think so.' or 'I don't think he is.' maybe. Then laughter."
"That's it." With that, Rholf gets up from the table. "If I may now, I would like to shave, bathe, and try to sleep. Would someone please apprise Miss Lorimor of the situation? If she wishes, as soon as I am bathed, I will seek accommodations elsewhere." Pausing at the door briefly, Rholf turns to face the group again. "Thank you." And with that, off he goes.
Castiel nods. “I will speak to Miss Lorrimor,” he says.
When Rholf leaves, Castiel turns to the others, especially Edwin and Alinya. “That symbol on the ring – does it mean anything to you?”
Alinya has remained quiet, her eyes shadowed and sympathetic as Rholf tells his tale. She turns to Castiel at his prompting, and considers what she knows, and what she has read in the Professor's library. "Red. Pentagram. Gold circle. Hmm."
"I'll come with you, Sir Castiel. To talk to Kendra."
She thinks on the ring, as well.
Knowledge
Religion
History
Planes
Edwin steeples his fingers once more as Rholf relates the brief meting, and his even briefer memories of the day before. Edwin gives one brief snort of what might be mirth.
"I believe that your would-be associates may have done you, and us, more good than harm with their little visit. Now knowing that there are haunts and such that can affect mens minds, we can take care to protect ourselves. This will prevent future misunderstandings, and may protect us from greater threats in the future. I am familiar with multiple charms and prayers that can prevent direct control of a person's mind. I recommend those of us that are able take turns preparing them each day." Edwin relates calmly.
Edwin asks for a few small details to be elaborated upon, then nods at Rholf's suggestion that he clean up.
"Indeed. We shall speak to Ms. Lorrimer on your behalf. I find a hot bath to be most conducive to thinking. Perhaps you might yet shake loose a few more details?" He grins, half-joking.
When Rholf leaves the room, he is also heard muttering to himself,
"Red background, pentagram, gold circle,..."
"Come Master Castiel! I wish to speak with Ms Lorrimer as well. I hope that she can enlighten us as to exactly what transpired between her and Father Kastigar that frightened her."
The ring's a pentagram. Useful for binding infernal creatures in high level summoning spells, and a religious symbol amongst devil worshippers.
Larissa says from the sound of it, it is a Pentagram ring of the Poor Knights of the Black Rock, a crew of guys out of Cheliax who serve Asmodeus.
Alinya concurs.
Those who sought out Lorrimor find her in the parlor knitting some wool socks.
Castiel, after greeting Kendra and enquiring after her health and the state of her day, quickly fills her in on Rholf's situation, emphasising his belief that now, more than ever, he needs to be in a safe environment with people that care for him.
"He did mention that you came across him, and seemed startled or disturbed by something," Castiel adds. "Was there anything that particularly alarmed you, or made you feel unsafe?"
"Well,....whilst he lay there sleeping,......he said the most disturbing things. It was....not at all like him, Castiel. And then, he awoke.......and I felt selfconscious for spying, so I tried to walk away......and well.....he just scared me. I thought he was crazy......I feel bad about it now, Castiel......I really do."
“No, no, there is no need to feel bad Miss Lorrimor, it was an understandable reaction, and you were not to know what he had been through.”
"He, he doesn't hate me, does he Cas?" she grabs the paladin's hand; "I feel like such a turnip.....I wish I was as brave as you and your firm."
“No, he doesn’t hate you Miss Lorrimor,” replies Castiel, patting her hand with his ungrasped one a little awkwardly. “He was merely concerned that he may have done something uncouth to earn your reaction. Miss Lorrimor, I think you are most brave, with all that has befallen this town and you personally you have held yourself together far better than most.”
"Pfft....I haven't done anything really,....no, I....all things considered;
whomever that "Mr. A" was,....this must be exactly what he wants.....to drive us all apart.
I won't sit for it."
“Indeed you should not.”
"Where is Rholf?"
"He is bathing, and intends to sleep following that, if you wish him to stay."
"Yes, well....I won't intrude on his ablutions. cough.....but, it is my wish he continues to feel at home and welcome here."
Larissa hops a bit and claps and says, "Oh, good! I will... um," she blushes deeply, "I'll let one of you gentlemen let Father Kastigarr know. I, uh, I'll stay here and help Kendra."
"Do you know how to knit? I'm passable; working my way up to a sweater....."
"Oh! No, not really. Sometimes I catch on quickly, though! Show me how you do this." Spying another set of needles in a nearby basket, she unconsciously reaches toward them as she says something unintelligible; they float up out of the basket and to her outstretched hand.
"Woah,....maybe that will help. Knit one,.....pearl two.....see if you can conduct the motions quicker with the spell, Larissa!"
"It might be good practice. I don't have that kind of control. I think." Pretty soon, her brows are knitted, but the sock not so much. Realizing that her tongue is sticking out from concentrating, she grins at their host. "It's fun to try, at least."
Castiel heads upstairs. When he notices Rholf emerge from the bathroom he passes on Kendra’s invitation to stay, and assures the man that she was simply concerned, and then embarrassed that she had been caught watching him.
"You're doing real well for a beginner. You can do it! Lepidstadt wasn't built in a day..."
A clean (and clean-shaven) Rholf listens as Castiel informs him about the conversation with Kendra. "Very glad to hear that." He says, much-relieved. "I didn't know if I'd have the energy to pack, much less walk farther than downstairs. I'm going to try to sleep now. Wake me if something untoward happens, please." And with that, Rholf disappears into his room. After 10 minutes or so of prayer, he crashes out.
“Rest well my friend,” murmurs Castiel. “May the holy goddesses watch over and keep you.”
......sweet dreams, Rholf,.......
(Edwin, true to his word, followed Castiel to go and speak with the lady of the house. He felt the desire to allow Catiel to do much of the talking.)
After Castiel exits the room to give Rholf the good news, Edwin sits watching Larissa try to learn to knit via magic spell. He raises an eyebrow, and makes a mental note on teh usefulness of that particular cantrip. While the girls (sorry, LADIES) are giggling and focused on their work, Edwin softly interjects into the conversation.
"Ms. Lorrimor, do you happen to recall exactly what it was that he mentioned while having his, dream? It may provide important insights. What did he say, exactly?"
"I don't recall; it didn't make much sense anyway. It was jibberish mostly, interspersed with vulgarity....
I'm sorry; I can't recall exactly. It's strange..."
she looks thoughtful;
"a lot of the "f" word; the "sh" word was in there.....other words like that.....I don't want to repeat it...."
Poor dude.
Anybody wanna do anything?
As the party waits out their allotted time per the Professor's will, Larissa will make her healing skills available to those in town. Essentially, she will let the cleric Grimburrow know that she's all too happy to help out if anyone is in need. "No, ma'am, I cannot ask for pay. It's a gift from my goddess to me and I share it as a gift to you. Go with Sarenrae's blessing."
She's able to get some work in over the following weeks. Mostly farming injuries; sprained muscles, broken bones here and there. One guy had a bad spell with a pitchfork; she's able to save him from getting a gnarly infection.
It's the closest to a combat trauma she sees in two week's time, and she feels a sense of relief set in. She feels.....regular life start to roll along like a slow calm cool breeze, instead of the howling whirlwind of combat and peril and death defying mayhem that is all too often the constant tao of the adventurer.
It becomes like a dream, the Horrors of the Haunting of Harrowstone.........
Castiel continues his attitude of ‘relaxed vigilance’, enjoying the downtime but keeping an eye on the town for further signs of trouble, as well as looking out for any difficulties Kendra might be having, and any renewed signs of distress or depression from Rholf.
Everybody's a big help to Ms. Lorrimer any more. There is a whole new zeitgeist of this town, if you will, if I'm not abusing that term.....people have begun to relax, and treat you all less as outsiders. People have begun to hope, to believe that tomorrow will not greet them with an army of dead friends and relatives absent staredly slamming and rending them into oblivion.
Ms. Lorrimer's able to sell her estate, finally, to a noble from the capitol, who is apparently interested in a summer home far from the craziness so close to the ruling city of Ustalav. And, who has confidence enough, apparently, that the recent troubles are over and done with.
"Castiel," she announces, "your group, through your striving in that awful place, has increased my property value by more than a good 1,000 gold easily.
When we get to Lepidstadt, I will be able to finalize the sale, and I intend to give you this amount of money to further your causes. Please take my money; don't give it away to charity, for I shall indeed give much to the needy as well, and I feel you all could benefit from better equipment."