The notes are written in many different hands, both masculine and feminine. You find notes signed by an Erik, a Christine, a Raoul, several signed with kiss, and one elaborately perfumed card attached to a bouquet of roses signed by Zeffiro. Judging by the flowers, they were delivered today, before or shortly after the performance this evening.
The alarmed voices have gone silent.
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Glaring at Garinol, Omar clears his threat and then says "What exactly is wrong with people appreciating artists? A talented artist can bring great joy and beauty into the world, ofcoarse that would be missed!"
"There is nothing wrong with artists, or those who appreciate them. I just do not understand them.", uncertain where the odd outburst is comming from. "I simply find it, questionable that we are brought in to search for a noblewoman in a country know for deception, that also,. . . dislikes us, over a missing actress, even a talented one, when the populace didn't seem to lift a finger on their own, nor for any of the other victims, all of whose souls are equally important. A pet peeve, if you will. Still, this is the, . . . mission at hand."
"I simply fail to see the relevance of the missing costumes, or the adoration, but, as an honest and sincere question towards those with more experience in this sphere, is it relevant? Am I the only one that heard voices in distress, but finding nothing?"
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"No, you are not the only one who heard the voices. They at times sounded angry. Still, I have yet to make out any of what is actually being said or where exactly they are coming from."
"As for understanding the distress over a missing actress, keep in mind that citizens take great pride -- as well they should -- in their artists. A diva usually starts training at an early age for her art. They truly live their life as art!"
Garinol moves aside the flowers and cards and pulls out a set of masterwork thieves' tools. He makes quick work of the simple lock, and Omar opens the door.
The dressing room Olivina used a few nights ago is crammed full of vanity mirrors, makeup kits, and discarded bits of clothing. Some of the mirrors are adorned with favorable reviews, trinkets, and script pages. Admiring herself in the largest mirror, is the translucent figure of a frumpy woman in her mid-30s wearing a light, blood-spattered gown and carrying a pair of gore-covered sewing scissors.
She spots your reflection, turns and cocks her head.
”Hello?”
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Zahra blinks, looking at the frumpy, translucent woman in the blood-spattered gown. Well, we were looking for clues. If anyone knows something about our missing star, she does...
"Hello," Zahra waves and gives the spirit her most radiant smile. "It is nice to study mirrors. Vun never knows the vonders that vun might discover. Ve are looking for someone... Perhaps you can help us find her?"
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Vrald also enters the room, his face paling slightly at the sight of the apparent ghost.
Well, either someone went to a lot of effort to set this up as a prank for us, or this place really is haunted.
Steeling his nerve, Vrald positions himself between Zahra and the ghost.
"Greetings to you. We had heard much of you. You must know a lot of secrets about this place. " stammers the knight.
"Perhaps you know one that would be helpful to us... and maybe we could be helpful to you?"
Omar recognizes the translucent woman as a ghost.
She smiles at her visitors, "Yes, I'm Margaret. Are you a fan of my work, sir?" she turns back to the mirror and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. "That quite depends on the person you are, miss. Mirrors may show your flaws, but with some makeup the mirror shows the beautiful woman every girl longs to be." she sighs, then turns back to the group.
"You're asking me? Well, I'm flattered. I see everything that happens in the theater. What do you need to know?"
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As the door opens, Garinol scans the room quickly, instantly recognizing the translucent woman as a Ghost, a particularly dangerous type of undead, ruled by passions strong enough to keep them tied to this realm.
He feels a twinge of guilt, as his faith calls for him to destroy such creatures, both for the sake of their souls being still in true danger of corruption by the dark energies they are irrevocably tied to in this state, but also for others, as the pain and destruction they can cause is legendary, and unpredictable. And yet, she might be able to help save the still living, and the rumor that he has heard is that ghosts, of all the undead, might still be capable of being redeemed.
"May we enter your room, Lady Margaret? We simply seek to find the missing, but did not know this room was still being used. Perhaps you could help us? Or we could help each other?", knowing she is not herself a noble woman, but dangerously gambling that the spirit might look favorably on a more respectful tone rather than other monikers such as "Mad".
"We had heard concerned voices earlier, near the stage. Have you heard anyone in danger, or speaking, besides us, of course?"
"We have been asked to look into the disappearance of Olivina? Would you happened to have seen her? Or any sign that she was taken? Or have any information pertaining to her from these last few days?"
"There was a single lit candle set atop the stage. Why was it there"
"My friends noticed that a few costumes seemed to be missing from the props room. I believe it was the beggar, the guard, and the merchant. Had you seen anyone remove them? Who, and for what purpose do you think?"
"Is there anything we might do to help you, Lady Margaret?"
Margaret's face twists into a sneer, "You came to look for her? Those pretty girls are all the same. Olivina this. Olivina that. Such a diva. Put on a friendly face for those that fawn over her, but never nice to the help."
From the doorway, Faeranduil hears the staccato snipping of scissors growing louder.
Faeranduil
Garinol
Zahra
Vrald
Pumpkin
Margaret
Omar
Lurgh
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"It might be best to thread carefully here... this ghost probably won't react that well to the missing one.... never mind....
"Quick! her emotions have triggered a haunt! We need to neutralize it before it activates! Use positive energy or spells that grant a morale bonus or calm a creature! Unfortunately that is not my forte...
Faeranduil quickly prepares to cast a spell if the ghost takes a hostile action
The translucent Margaret in front of you fades from view as a spectral vision superimposes itself over the room. A bedraggled woman splattered in blood, her face painted in a garish caricature of a chorus girl appears before you. Around her are several corpses, each featuring a mess of ragged puncture wounds. The woman rants aggressively, berating the corpses for their vanity, and waves a pair of blood-drenched sewing scissors in front of her.
"You think you're so beautiful. That's all you think of yourselves. Well listen up, girls. Youth doesn't last!"
A wave of angry energy washes out from the dressing room. Garinol feels it break around his magic circle against evil as the spell protects his allies.
The circle is not wide enough to protect everyone, though.
Faeranduil
Garinol
Zahra
Vrald
Pumpkin
Omar
Lurgh
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"A Haunt. Stand back."
In a rather unorthodox way of perhaps showing Margaret's spirit another way, Garinol simply stands there, allowing whatever evil she might have awakened to possibly attack him, and hopefully, , IF he survives it, the spirit's wrath might be spent and the chance at truly moving on may become possible.
Simply standing there, unarmed, non-threateningly, the priest simply waits, gambling his life for the chance to offer a proverbial hand to one blinded by spiritual darkness. "Good redeems it's own." he thinks, repeating the saying in his mind like a mantra, "and one candle might light another" as he steps closer, offering an open, empty hand to the spirit.
"Crap!"
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Vrald looks around, somewhat confused, and angered by the odd change of incorporeal events.
For a moment his hand shifts towards his sword, but the reassuring presence of Garinol stays his hand.
"Youth and Beauty of the face may pass. " he says through clenched teeth, as the others explain the situation. "The the beauty that is within may last a lifetime."
botting Zahra
"Vell said, Vrald." Zahra says as she leaves the dressing room. "Pumpkin, are you all right?"
Pumpkin sneezes and looks confused.
Then Pumpkin's claws emerge and he reaches to bite the half-orc standing next to him. Faeranduil notices the attack and casts dispel magic on the tiger.
Driven by the rhythm of the scissors, Pumpkin's attacks are faster than you expect.
Lurgh is caught unaware, and dropped unconscious from Pumpkin's full fury.
Initiative (round 1/2): bold may act
Faeranduil
Garinol
Zahra
Vrald
Pumpkin
Omar
Lurgh (unconscious)
Vrald misses Pumpkin in his attempt to subdue the animal. Omar casts his spell and grants Pumpkin a blessing.
With Shelyn's blessing, Pumpkin shakes off the effects of the haunt, but Lurgh is still unconscious and bleeding. Pumpkin paws at his limp form, trying to wake him up.
When the spell is lifted, the visions of the corpses, bloodstains, and the sewing scissors disappear from the dressing room.
A translucent Margaret manifests in front of the vanity mirror.
"Hello. I'm Margaret, master of hair and makeup for the Cloisoi Theater. Who might you be?"
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Omar bends over Lurgh and uses his wand to heal the fellow.
Good, he is awake. Now to try and prevent any more outbursts from the ghost.
Seeing him come awake, he stands and turns to Margaret. "My name is Omar, and I am a priest of Shelyn. Master of hair and makeup? So you are one of the talented artists that makes sure the actors always look their best?"
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Faeranduil takes out a wand and approaches Lurgh "Some people don't want to have this healing wand used on them. It is made from the blood of fiends and will feel horrible while it knits your wounds. I leave the choice to you."
Omar seems to be a better diplomat than I am, he should be able to handle this
Margaret curtsies at the compliment and replies to Omar, "I am indeed. What are you doing backstage?"
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"For the record, please do not use that on me. I'm not certain just how it would taint the soul, and am not willing to risk it."
"Mad Mad Margaret: Redeemable: 0/Irredeemable-Undead-in-need-of-destruction: 1, after we have found those in need. . . " as he looks on at the spirit looking in the mirror, uncertain just what to think.
Turning tot he rest of the party, "Well, that was rather pointless. Should we move on, or attempt to try it once more?"
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"Lady Margaret... There was a diva here, one who would probably be much improved by your talents. However she, as diva's will, has caused a bit of a stir by vanishing. We were hoping to find out how and where she vanished to. As we have come across you, we were hoping you might demonstrate your thorough knowledge of the goings on in the theater to us by including us on in her secret exit from backstage."
The ghost waves her hand dismissively to Vrald, "Oh, I'm no Lady, m'Lord. You're looking for one of the girls? Ah, she was the one rehearsing just the other night. Yes, I heard her stay late one night to practice a soliloquy, and all of a sudden there was the sound of a scuffle, muffled footsteps, and muffled screams. I suppose it could have been real trouble, but I wouldn’t interrupt over something like that—not after the lecture I got after interrupting the last diva to stalk these halls. No, no…” She trails off while grinding her teeth and nervously clipping her scissors together.
She looks down, as if just noticing the scissors in her hand, then pulls herself together and continues, “After the scuffle, I heard them moving across the stage as if dragging a great weight. Makes sense, given that she always bragged about being carried out of the theater by her adoring crowd. I found the building’s back door open a little later, and the sewer grate back there was ajar. She’s a sharp-tongued harpy, but no actor deserves to be dragged off by the swampers like that.” She pauses in thought as her eyes narrow and glance in the direction of the stage. “Almost no one…” She trails off again while grinding her teeth and snipping her scissors together.
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Lurgh picked himself off the ground and glared, not at Pumpkin, but at Zahara. It was her animal, and thus her responsibility to keep in under control. But now was not the time to make a scene. Clearly he would keep an eye on Pumpkin and if the cat got out of line again, he'd have to consider roasting it.
After accepting Omar and Garinol's healing, he takes out a wand.
My soul is already tainted by the blood of evil dragons. I hardly think a bit of devil's blood will do it much harm. But I have my own wand so save yours Faeranduil.
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Nodding, Omar states "Thank you, Margaret. It seems that someone had been taking people -- including a merchant and other people that provide services. We need to find whomever is responsible and hopefully rescue the abductees."
"You seem to be observant. When you next went into the stage area where she practiced, did anything look out of place?" Maybe those stage props weren't so badly made -- perhaps they were badly repaired!
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"You have been very helpful. Is there anything we can help you with in return?"
Please, tell me how to lay your spirit to rest. They call them makeup artists for a reason, and I would like you to once again find that beauty.
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“After the scuffle, I heard them moving across the stage as if dragging a great weight. . . ”
"How many of them do you believe there where?"
'She’s a sharp-tongued harpy, but no actor deserves to be dragged off by the swampers like that.”. . . “Almost no one…”
"Why do you think it was the "swampers"? And which of the other actors does deserve such treatment, ma'am, just out of curiosity. I recall you mentioned that Olivina was "never nice to the help". Can you explain more about this? Was there anyone else that might have loathed her?"
". . . not after the lecture I got after interrupting the last diva to stalk these halls. No, no…”
"I'm curious, spirit, who here would have the stone to lecture you?"
After, IF she does answer the above, I'd still like to know some of my previous questions, and will again try to ask.
"We had heard concerned voices earlier, near the stage. Have you heard anyone in danger, or speaking, besides us, of course? Is there anyone else here, or in danger now?"
"There was a single lit candle set atop the stage. Why was it there, and lit?"
"My friends noticed that a few costumes seemed to be missing from the props room. I believe it was the beggar, the guard, and the merchant. Had you seen anyone remove them? Who, and for what purpose do you think?"
"Is there anything you wish you could do? Something perhaps beyond your power, but if, for instance, someone would be willing to help, would give you some relief?"
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And which of the other actors does deserve such treatment, ma'am, just out of curiosity. I recall you mentioned that Olivina was "never nice to the help". Can you explain more about this? Was there anyone else that might have loathed her?"[/b]
As Garinol is starting to ask about the other actors, Omar accidentally bumps into him. He then starts apologizing profusely "So sorry, Garinol! Didn't mean to interrupt like that, wouldn't want to anger anyone but Pumpkin can get a little aggressive when he bumps his head against me. Really sorry!"
""You seem to be observant. When you next went into the stage area where she practiced, did anything look out of place?""
"I don't pay much attention to what the stage is set like, but I did notice some of Olinina's hair wrapped around a nail. It's quite workable hair, and hardly ever tangles. It might have been from that night."
She turns to Garinol, "I really tried to stay out of the way. I don't know any more than what I've told you about what happened. The people that took her escaped into the sewers. Nobody knows the tunnels below like the swampers know them. And you said Olivina was just the latest? What else could these people have in common?”
"I don't usually stay around to talk with anyone." she crosses her arms and hugs herself, "I've just been a little upset since the abduction. I feel better having told you everything."
"You saw my candle? The stagehands leave it out when no one else is around."
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"The set pieces looked to be of ... dangerous build." notes Vrald.
"Did they change their set construction crew recently?" he asks.
Turning to the others he says "Perhaps one of us should go retrieve the hair, it may be helpful later on. Can some of you " here he twiddles his fingers in the air "use hair to locate a person?"
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"I can track, and might be able to follow the scent, but if they did go through the sewers, and a few days ago, there may be no trail to folow. Still, it seems our only option."
Turning to face the spirit, he nods his heads, "Thank you, Margaret for your information. You may have helped give some folks a better chance of making it back."
"I can go look for the hair."
"Care for any help?" as he offers a friendly hand, "Maybe my nose might catch something your eyes miss." but also not wishing anyone to go off alone in this indeed haunted place.
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"Yes. Searching isn't exactly my forte."
Getting out to the stage area, Omar tells Pumpkin to stay for a moment at the door while he checks the couch over, looking for the hair.
Once he has finished with that, he allows the big cat to take over the couch as he searches the rest of the area.
"Sorry for the delay, let's get you fully healed!"
Caught on a nail...perhaps the stage props?
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Zahra is horrified when Pumpkin unleashes on a fellow team member. "Pumpkin, no!"
The tiger's eyes go wide and he crouches at his mistress's displeasure.
She then rushes to Lurgh's side. "I am so very, very sorry my friend. I think Pumpkin must have been under effect of a spell. I have vorked so hard to make him vell behaved and a good team member."
Zahra is crying. She takes her wayfinder, the one slotted with the clear ioun stone, and puts it around Pumpkin's neck. "Years of vork, years of training. All undone in an instant. He is really such a good boy. Alvays gentle not only vith teammates, but vith opponents ve must live capture. However, here is a protection to make certain this never happens again. I vill go vithout my own protection for this."
"Please, Lurgh... Forgive us."
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"Thank you," he says to Omar. "I wasn't worried about healing up slowly though. I think we have this situation under control and I doubt anyone responsible for the abduction is coming back for us right now."
Then answering Zahra he growls, Hmph! Good boy indeed. Animals are driven by fear and instinct. While I wouldn't be surprised by an animal reacting poorly to my nature, as its handler, it is your duty to see that he is under control at all times. You want my forgiveness, then show me that this can be accomplished.
Omar and Pumpkin find several strands of curly red hair wrapped around a nail head at about ankle height.
Margaret snorts softly at Garinol’s suggestion, ”You? Track a girl by scent? Through the sewers? That will be a short journey to becoming lost. No, but if you need to find your way through that place, there is way.” The spirit smiles knowingly and sighs romantically. “There are so many tales of the desperate seeking the witches and werebeasts of the mire, wishing for cures, curses, and more. Call on them, and they’ll answer. There’s a sinking manor carved with signs of swamp gods out in Graidmere. Go there and speak this aloud three times: ‘dark marsh, dark secrets, I petition thee.’ The swamp listens, and they’ll answer.”
”I may not care for the girl, but I wish no ill on her. It’s the pretty girls that make the business for the rest of us, like or not.”
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As Garinol is starting to ask about the other actors, Omar accidentally bumps into him. He then starts apologizing profusely "So sorry, Garinol! Didn't mean to interrupt like that, wouldn't want to anger anyone but Pumpkin can get a little aggressive when he bumps his head against me. Really sorry!"
Faeranduil shrugs "That beast should be kept on a leash if you ask me, darn nuisance that he is!
"You saw my candle? The stagehands leave it out when no one else is around."
"We did see your candle. Are you able to see the plays or are you always backstage?
Margaret seems to be losing interest in the conversation, "Oh, the swampers shouldn't bother you. They fear the witches and the old gods, same as anyone. Be respectful." she pauses and looks the inquisitor over again, "Or perhaps be silent."
"I never miss a show. I just keep out of sight, most times." at that, something unseen captures her attention and she fades away as she flies toward one of the walls.
The sinking manor Margaret spoke of reminds you of Tangledyne. A ruined estate about an hour's travel outside the city.