"The travel trunk may have clues, though I'm loathe to open the strongbox downstairs." Taranis looks the guest room over before trying to open the chest:
A pin on two of the cloaks matches the sigil on several of the books downstairs, identifying the occupant of this room as the same Ervil Pendrod.
The contents of the trunk are of more interest, however. Among the more mundane possessions is a small library of further reference texts that cover a wide range of subjects, from geography to history to anthropology. Some careful sifting turns up one particular work that fits with the others downstairs: a centuries-old geography book created by one Carmyn e’Brothasa, chronicler of Taldor’s Third Army of Exploration into the north. One passage is dog-eared and circled:
"And so it was, high upon the Torres and well above the Vale's Stairs, where rises from the high water a stony isle of dire report. Known as Vordakai's Island to those that live about, some legend of its name doth come down through the locals. For they speak of a guardian that doth destroy all who would set foot upon its accursed shores. They did name no fewer than a twelve-count of their hero-knights who had left their bones upon its rocky shores over the years, after having tested their mettle against its dread warden, 'til none would any longer go there for fear of its hidden terror. And the name of this terror was given unto this Island."
A short note is hand-written in the margin: "Vordakai -- perhaps a Nomen centaur god?"
Zed looks over the pages,
Zed thinks that the hand-written note is a good guess, but knows nothing further.
In case that's possible...
I bust out some maps of the area that either I've been working on or that we have and explain what I'm looking for.
"I know not of this island. But we should if it is in our jurisdiction."
Augrym suspects that the "Torres" referenced in the text are in fact the Tors of Levenies, the mountain range that separates the Marchlands from Varnhold, but is unable to place either the "Vale's Stairs" or "Vordakai's Island."
Augrym points to this on the map to the Huntsman but realizes that this is a lead and not an answer.
"Could it be the island we checked out? Maybe we missed something? Let's hope there are more leads, but regardless, good work Augrym. Come let's get to the church."
Islands are in bodies of water. Unrak then looks over the map, pointing out any bodies of water on the map within reasonable proximity to Varnhold large enough that they could hold an island, of a size to themselves hold something like this "Vordakai"
You passed by two rivers on the way here, the Shrike and (twice) the Kiravoy, but saw nothing that would match the description in the text. And, truth be told, you have not explored the area around Varnhold much.
You have also heard of Lake Silverstep, which is nestled against the Tors on the western side, and lies between Solasgaard and Varnhold.
You head to the church. The whitewashed walls and stained glass windows gleam in the late-day sun. The bow symbol of Erastil shines like a beacon above the doors. Behind it on one side sits a neatly kept parsonage, and on the other a low hill holds the beginnings of a small cemetery.
"A welcomed sight, even if abandoned." Taranis motions for the party to do a lap around the church before heading in.
Sniff, sniff
The cemetery holds 14 grave markers, including one that is relatively fresh. The marker reads "Andrisha the Potter" and is dated three months ago.
"Well, we now have more of a time frame."
Taranis looks at the building. "Come, seeking out help from Erastil is a good idea." He moves to enter.
Your last correspondence FROM Varnhold was shortly after your visit there in Sarenith, four months ago. Unrak sent a stern letter to Varnhold a little over a month ago, but come to think of it, that messenger never returned...
The interior of the church is simply furnished with wooden pews and a humble altar. It appears to have been thoroughly looted, unlike the inn and the homesteads across the river.
Let's confirm that. Also looking for things that aren't loot. Records, clues, etc.
Toth sniffs about
Taranis finds a hidden drawer in the altar that contains several valuable scrolls stashed in case of emergencies: three scrolls of cure serious wounds, three scrolls of remove paralysis, a scroll of restoration, a scroll of break enchantment, a scroll of breath of life, and a scroll of raise dead.
The church is otherwise very simply appointed, and anything else of interest that was here is gone.
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Taranis solemnly takes the materials. He asks Zed for some paper and ink. He writes "Taken by Baran Taranis Redleaf of the Marchlands
You have just finished stowing the scrolls when you hear three loud knocks coming from the inn. A rough, low-timbred voice calls out:
"Hello? Hello?! Anyone here?"
Ho! Friends here! Where are you?
The voice is coming from the entrance of the Waterhorse Inn, which you just left.
”Hello! Is there anybody here?! Where in tarnation is everyone?”
An elderly bearded man who still has some spring in his step pounds on the door to the inn. You catch a glimpse of mithral chain under his cloak. He carries a light backpack and a long sword swings from its scabbard on his belt. A longbow is slung over his back.
”I’m professor Bytor Sniegsun and I’ve been traveling a long ways to get here. I’m looking for a place to stay and I’m willing to pay! But if service is this bad, not much. Now open up if you would be so kind!”
Taranis instantly turns and looks at Augrym. He pantomimes the motion the inquisitor makes when questioning a suspect.
"BY THE SNOW DOG HIMSELF!" Taranis steps out carefully, giving Toth a look too.
He grabs a sling stone and steps out carefully. He doesn't approach, instead awaiting the Justicar's nod. From afar, "Traveler, you may find the service lacking."
”Traveler, you may find the service lacking.”
”You could say that again! I’ve been pounding on this door here for nearly ten minutes and I haven’t seen a single soul. If you ask me, I would say that this entire place seems as empty as a bottle of Skalwar’s Scotch on the eve of Durgin’s fire night festival. Do you know if the innkeeper is about?”
"No, and if you don't mind, I'd like to get a bit more of your story. Obviously something is afoot here, and that makes us a bit cautious if you know what I mean."
”Well, if something afoot, I better not take any chances.”
Bytor initially struggles, but with some effort, pulls his blade from his scabbard and holds it out. As the blade trembles in his hands, the gray haired man calls out, ”I don’t wish anyone any ill will, but I’ve made the long trek here from Kithrodian Academy in Oppara. I’m looking for a man named Ervil Pendrod, a professor who came here looking for clues about ancient Iobaria. He’s been gone far too long and the trustees say it’s time for him to return. He needs to get back to teaching. He’s supposedly somewhere here in Varhold. Have you seen any sign of him?”
Indeed, the stranger carries a formal writ that charges him with convincing the wayward professor to return to his duties.
Augrym nods at Taranis.
"Well me new professor friend Bytor. Augrym bows.
"Good leader brother friend Taranis, this gentleman is pure of heart. I would be honored to fight and die next to him. In any way we can help your search, professor friend, we are at your service. But we seem to be in search of people as well so our goals seem to be currently aligned."
”Are you telling me there is nobody in this town?! What in hells happened here? Forgive me for not trusting you, but what assurance can you give me that you folk aren’t responsible for this town’s trouble?”
Unrak gives a nod indicating "fair point." We are from the neighboring barony--the gent with the big cat is Baron Redleaf in person. We others are all his friends and advisors. And we're here to investigate what's going on--and now, to find Varnhold's missing inhabitants. The only assurance we can give you that we're not responsible is, we're all standing here with our thumbs up our bungholes, rather than, say, covered in the blood of murdered townsfolk! And I think you'd agree that we're not quite scary enough to have simply chased off the entire town, eh??
”I don’t want any trouble and I certainly don’t want to make you mad, but would you mind telling me where you got those wounds?”
”I don’t want any trouble and I certainly don’t want to make you mad, but would you mind telling me where you got those wounds?”
Nasty water monster jumped us when we crossed the river.
Indeed, Bytor passed by the shattered carcass of a strange, crab-like creature at the ford only minutes ago.
With the water monster story fitting, Bytor continues,"Alright, so maybe you aren't the ones who chased off the entire town, then who or what more likely did chase off the entire town? Have you found any clues? I wonder if it is connected to any of this Iobarian business that drew Ervil here in the first place. Did you find any evidence of professor Pendrod?"
"We've found evidence of the man, but not his fate. As a show of good will, here's what we have." Taranis points out the items from the inn.
"It seems that sky and sea are as one. Mayhaps we should join forces. At least for now. We know that there are spriggans here, and the likely do not mean us well. What say you to trying to get information out of them? I hope the sight of blood doesn't make you squeamish."
"Hmm?" Bytor replies as he scratches his beard. "This is a mighty kind gesture."
"I've seen my share of blood and I'm okay with it as long as its not mine. I admit, if the residents of this town have gone missing, I think our strength will be in numbers. I would be willing to work with you to get to the bottom of this mystery. My sword still works if I can offer its service to the cause. For the time being, let us work together. After we find the fate of Ervil and the rest of Varnhold, I may need to reassess, but for now, I would be willing to take a chance with you folk."
"Now, if we are going to be working together, I suppose I should get to know who you folk are. My name is Professor Bytor Sniegson. I originally hail from Kalsgard, but more recently I worked for the Kithrodian Academy in Oppara. I take it you must be Baron Redleaf? What do the rest of you call yourselves, or shall I be making up nicknames?"
”Marc Jorstad, it is an honor to meet you. I respect those who find faith in the gods. I can’t say I practice much religious fervor, but when I’m looking for useful information I turn to Irori. When I want injustice set right, I look to Iomedae. When I travel, I ask Desna for a bit of luck, and when I have a thirst, I look for Cayden Cailean’s house. I suppose Varnhold could use a bit more Erastil’s protection at this moment.”
"Ha! This is why Gozreh is my god. He is everything, and she is everything!"
"Perhaps the theology could wait for some last rites over the spriggans... We can search the rest of the town after."
"Surprise is likely difficult to achieve, so let's get in the door as quickly as possible."
The new arrival in tow, the party proceeds past the rest of the buildings in town and heads straight to the fort. Perched atop a low hill, this triangular fortification looms over the town. A palisade of sharpened stakes leaves enough gaps for archers within to fire out upon the surrounding hillsides. The southern corners of the fort both have twin watch platforms, and the northern corner is anchored by a solid-looking blockhouse of sturdy timbers. A thin column of smoke drifts upward from a fire in the stockade’s compound.
The stockade’s gatehouse towers are composed of fifteen-foot-tall sharpened stakes, fitted tightly together to form a solid wooden wall. A
ladder-accessible platform has been built into each wall, ten feet above the ground. A half-dozen helmets are barely visible over the edge of the wall near the gate.
There is a watch post atop the blockhouse, but no flag flies from it at the moment.
Bytor follows along at the back, he draws his longsword and keeps his shield at the ready in case arrows start to fly over the palisade.
"From the sight of that column of smoke, I'd say that somebody is at home."
Turning to Taranis, Bytor remarks,"Do you need a herald's introduction? I'm an orator in a lecture hall by profession, by I've dabbled in heraldry in my past. Unless you think we need a stealthy approach?"
"We can't all fly, and we're not all great climbers. I don't think stealth is a viable option either. A herald's announcement isn't going to give us an advantage.... But Zed summoning something to distract them while we try to get in might. Thoughts?"
The palisade looks difficult to climb, but not that difficult. The stakes are sharpened at the top, however.
