Ulrich winced as the sword shattered.
That didn’t work...
”We need another plan for this.”
With his joke falling short, Scribbles steps to the side to witness the first, futile swing. Both he and the glowing figure stand side by side, and cross arms simultaneously.
"Well, unfortunately, this will not keep up forever." he says, gesturing to the figure. A glowing arm mirrors the gnome's movements. "I do have a few candles - not the best light, but should last much longer."
Placing his backpack on the floor, Scribble flips back the lid. The glowing figure kneels beside the pack with him. Digging to the bottom to grab his flint and candles, he takes a moment to pull out his journal and ink as well. With a couple quick strikes of flint, a single candle is lit. "You are just getting in the way! Shoo!" he says, motioning to the figure to scatter. The figure falls backwards, breaking into four pieces. The quarters takes on the form of simple balls of light and disperse to the corners of the room.
"Much better." Scribbles says, sitting down with the candle beside the trap door. He positions his shield in front of him, folding out small legs to make a miniature table out of it. "Now, if we are stuck, we might as well take this moment to discuss what we know, and the options for moving forward." Gently laying out his journal, quill, and ink, he looks up to Ulrich, giving him the option to start the brainstorm.
Ulrich looked at Scribbles for a moment.
”We know that there is a thief in town and that this towns ruler seems to be a jerk”
With that, Ulrich focused his energy in his leg and then stomped the lock.
Scribbles opens to a blank page in his journal and dabs his quill in ink. "I suspect that there are multiple thieves, actually. If our squirrel-y friend did not have what was lost. We are almost certainly looking for two or more." He makes a quick note on the page. "I do agree that the mayor is a... fool. I am beginning to suspect that the appearance of that well dressed man during the robbery of the Laughing Lich was not coincidence, though. So that might at least imply that he is only a selfish, greedy fool, and not a mastermind criminal. His guards seem too suspicious on their own, not to mention that they acted friendly with our Squirrel." Another note is added to the page. "An abandoned house with a corpse that appears far older than it should be. A lock on a trap door, stronger than this manor deserves. Let us not forget the orc and human who continue to evade us more as this develops."
I wonder if they are done canoodling yet?
A thought itches at the back of his mind. Thinking back to when he dug out his journal and such moments ago, Scribbles flops his bag over into his reach. Bollix! They did manage to steal from me! My gold pouch is missing! He lays down on his back, letting out a exasperated "Bah!"
Looking up at the ceiling of old boards and cobwebs, thoughts race through Scribbles's head. They were obviously going for things of value - why haven't I guessed by now that they may have grabbed something magical? Taking a moment to focus, he casts detect magic. He bolts upright, a new energy about him as he glances at the lock and around the room once more.
Surprisingly... Ulrich still doesn't break the lock.
Scribbles is able to tune out the two stronger auras and pick out the magical aura coming from his ring, unsurprising to him that it has no school as he has sensed his ring's aura many times. He is also able to pick out a faint magical aura on Ulrich's wrists, giving off the school of transmutation.
Finally, after several moments of concentration, he's able to pick up some very faint auras east; he estimates these auras are just within the 60 feet range of the spell, possibly inside the Laughing Lich. One is stronger than the rest, another school of necromancy aura. The others are too faint to really make out. Scribbles could conclude these other auras could be from belongings of the Laughing Lich or its patrons.
”Hmmm... You have a point about multiple thieves... perhaps a guild?”
Ulrich breathed in slowly, his energy focused into his leg as he lifted it and brought his heel down onto the lock one more time.
”Either way, we can try and sleep here for the night. Especially if ya have no gold.
"I do not know if this town is large enough for a guild, but it could certainly be organized crime." Scribbles lets out a long yawn. "I suppose it has been an exciting day. I agree that we should stay here for now. We can keep an ear to the ground in case somebody comes by to unlock that trap door. That, and I cannot bear to show my face to that crowd without their stolen goods to return..."
He looks around for a good place to lay down, where he might wake from the noise of somebody else entering the manor without being somewhere noticeable.
Ulrich set up his bedroll against the fat fall, furthest from the door they entered.
He sat down on his bedroll.
“I’ll take the first watch.”
Ulrich's Watch:
Taking Ulrich's lead, Scribbles unties his winter blanket and rolls it out on the floor, behind where the door would open (so it should be on the other side of the room from Ulrich.)
I really wasn't planning to sleep on a hard floor tonight.
Finally finding a comfortable position rolled up in his blanket, backpack as a pillow, Scribbles falls asleep.
Later, after Ulrich wakes him up, Scribbles will take watch.
Drifting at the edge of sleep for most of his watch, Scribbles will cast detect magic (it's a cantrip) every once in a while and try to focus, just to help him stay awake.
That might be a potion.... ZZzzz Oh, um, I wonder if that's somebody's wand... No, it has to be some sort of enchanted clothing or jewelry, it's moving around too often... No wonder that inn is a target for theft, plenty of people stay for just one night, loaded with the valuables they need to make it between here and there.
Ulrich kept watch as Scribbles rested.
This place gives me the creeps...
Ulrich placed a hand on his helmet he was still wearing. That put him at ease.
Later, Ulrich wakes Scribbles to take his shift, and he drifted off to sleep, keeping his helmet on.
The night passes uneventfully, and morning dawns on the brave adventurers. Ulrich and Scribbles hear the sound of the town waking up: a rooster crows, the temple's bells ring the morning hour happily, conversational tones drift through the manor's boarded up windows. Another day in Corby's Crossing has started, and nothing seems amiss...
In the town. The manor still feels wrong. Too cold and as if something unseen watches.
Ulrich wakes up, adjusting his helmet on his head, as it went a bit askew while he slept.
He packed his gear and turned toward Scribbles.
”I’m gonna go get some breakfast, yer welcome to join me if ya like. I may be able to get more information about current events as well.”
Ulrich starts for the door to leave.
As Ulrich walks toward the door, left foot lands on the blackened area. Both Scribbles and Ulrich hear sobbing next to Ulrich, broken with laughter from the same voice. the voice cries, the source the empty space in the middle of the blackened circle. The sobbing returns followed by, "I didn't mean it... I didn't..." The air warms back up to slightly chilly, and the sobbing recedes.
Ulrich stops in his tracks, overwhelmed with sadness.
“What the hell is this?”
Tears form in Ulrich’s eyes, he wipes them away and faces where the voice was coming from.
“A ghost or a selfish vengeful spirit?”
The sadness still fills his heart.
“Show yourself. I don’t much care for tricks when others are doing it!”
The manor is silent as Ulrich and Scribbles wait for a response that never comes.
Sand blinks slowly as his soul reconnects with his body.
It feels like its been months. What happened.
Sand looks around in the middle of the street and see the orc standing in a daze next to him.
"What the f*&$ just happen?"
Ulrich stood there for a moment, still feeling sadness within him. He looked at Scribbles.
”This all seems messed up.”
Ulrich sighed and walked out of the house to get some air. And heads to the tavern.
“I’m too hungry for this.”
Sand shook it off and walked off towards the tarvern
"I need a drink" sand said under his breath
He walked up to the door and opened it scaning the tarvern
“Well if it isn’t the show off.”
Ulrich walked up to the tavern seeing Sand.
”Getting some breakfast?”
Ulrich attempted to walk past Sand to get into the tavern.
Scribbles, uncharacteristically dumb, follows Ulrich, subconsciously avoiding the blackened circle.
Ulrich and Scribbles step into the Laughing Lich and see that the morning crowd is what one would expect: quiet and mostly empty.
Sand has no memory of time elapsed but realizes he has been out of it for quite some time. The orc Rexah is eerily unmoving as he walks away. He walks through the Lich's doors shortly after Ulrich and Scribbles. Sand notices Scribbles' vacant expression, a little too much like Rexah's when he left her and he suspects like his own up until a few moments ago. There are a few patrons, some coming down the stairs from their rooms and ordering breakfast, some holding their heads and returning to the bottle for some relief. At the table where the adventurers had met the day before, there is still the passed out man still passed out. The mountainous bartender looks as if he never left, and of his helpers only Silas is seen cleaning tables and sweeping the floor.
"Ahh Ulrich was it?" sand asked with a smirk on his face.
He glanced around the tavern then his face turned serious and leaned into Ulrich and whispered
"something weird is going on in this town. Have you noticed?"
Sand leans away and says louder "I would love to grab some food I'm starved" As he looks around for a table.
Scribbles continues to stay small and quiet, putting the taller folk between him and any judging eyes.
I can not believe I am showing my face after failing to meet my promise to the patrons here. I learned enough of acting at the academy to shrug off their concerns, but I have always hated using excuses for my shortcomings...
As Sand mentions the weird things happening in this town, Scribbles subconsciously folds his arms, hiding his newly acquired tattoos.
Last night surely was weird... Oh! There was another necromantic aura in this tavern. I wonder if it is still here.
He casts detect magic to pinpoint where some of the magic in this tavern emanates from.
Ulrich’s response to Sand was a little dry but not rude.
”Aye, that it is.”
After Sand whispered in his ear he wondered what Sand had gone through last night.
”Aye, I’m gonna go order and eat at the bar.”
He walked up to the bar and sat down.
”Mornin’, barkeep. And isn’t it a lovely mornin’.
"Hmph," Argus grunts. The barkeep continues to stand there with his hands resting on the bar, glaring down at Ulrich.
Ulrich looks at Argus for a moment, coughs and just states his business.
”A meal please. I’m starving.”
Argus pulls a wooden bowl out from behind the counter and drops it on the counter next to the stove behind him. He plops some unappealing gruel into it, sticks a piece of bread in the gruel, and places the bowl in front of Ulrich. After a moment of consideration, he also fills a mug with watered down ale.
"Silver."
Ulrich took out a silver coin and gave it to the man, and happily started eating and drinking.
”Sand, I don’t suppose you found anything useful last night?”
Ulrich sees Scribbles and invited him over to the bar.
”Come, gnome. Let us eat.”
Sand follows Ulrich over to the bar.
"I will have a meal as well sir" Sand says then passes the barkeep a silver
"Unfortantly i did not find out anything last night, had a rather strange night really. Did you have any luck?"
”Well, we found this strange house. I don’t suppose you are any good at lock picking, are you?
Ulrich sips his drink and takes another bite of his food.
"Never had to pick locks myself mostly went in windows. Why do you ask?"
Sand gave ulrich a suspicious glance
Argus wordlessly collects Sand's silver and gives him the same as Ulrich.
Ulrich lets out a sigh. And gets close to Sand and whispers.
”I need someone who can pick a lock for me.”
"what about that thief we chased around the other day? Also what for?"
sand whispers back
Ulrich responds, still in a whisper.
”Crap, that thief would have been a good option. There’s this locked cellar door in that old creepy house. I wanted to get in.”