"I don't like the smell of those things". "Let's get out of here and try another door". Darcy moves from the room...but not too far.
Morbury continues to keep a watchful eye in the direction of the branding irons. Figuring they could do more damage than the brass brazier.
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You see the branding irons suddenly glow red hot and the shoot from the ground at each of you (Darcy is out of range).
vs Kayela
vs Hasmir
vs Morbury
vs Arigoder
vs Dryden
vs Akydidya
Most miss their targets, but Hasmir is caught flatfooted and Akydidya is hit too. Both get a painful brand on their faces.
damage vs Hasmir
damage vs Akydidya
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The irons float back to their original resting places and are once again stone cold.
Dryden (who missed his perception check) explains afterwards that just before a haunt fully manifests there is usually some sort of noticable effect. At that time they can be damaged or destroyed by any positive energy effect.
Arigoder nods as Dryden explains, "Will it happen again? And would sprinking Holy Water around have stopped it?" The tension seems to have returned, I must say...
"The holy water worked on the slamming doors because that is a simple, harmless haunt. This one is more dangerous; I do not think the holy water would have much effect. And yes, this one will happen again, I just do not know how long until it re sets."
Morbury dodges out of the way as an iron comes straight at him. "Well, at least we know it's the irons. And if there is some form of tell-tale sign, let us be wary of it, so as to be ready for it next time." He turns to Hasmir and Akydidyka, studying the burns they have suffered. "You two have been burned quite nicely. Dryden, do you wish to heal them? Or would you rather Kayela or me heal them? The Dawnflower has granted me the gift to heal others, though, not as well as you." As his attention turns back to the irons for a moment, "We must put an end to these things, and quickly. If we do not, it is possible they may put an end to us."
Arigoder nods as Dryden explains, "Will it happen again?
And yes, this one will happen again, I just do not know how long until it re sets."
Kayela glances at Dryden and Ari. "Dar is a very elegant solution tah dis I fear yah may be overlooking...." and with that she drops her shield grabs one of the branding irons and places at her feet and brings her morningstar down upon it with a loud CLANK and continues to do so till the iron brand is broken into various pieces.
Seeing that the attack is over with for now, Darcy enters the room." Maybe we could just lock them up somewhere so they can't attack us anymore, or chain them down somewhere"?
Let's just find a closet or something, and everytime we find a misbehaving common tool or item, we could just lock them all up together and let them fight it out".
Arigoder smiles at Darcy's suggestion, "So we should wrap the items that want to kills us up in the chains that tried to kill us? There's a certain poetry to that, if we assume that they don't all decide to gang up on us." He chuckles and adds, "Besides, with our luck, I expect that whatever closet we choose to lock them into will be one where the door swings open the moment we stop looking at it."
Akydi lets out a yelp of pain when one of the branding irons hits him, "That. Was kinda rude. Could somebody please heal me? I do not want some weird scar marring my pretty face" He says with a chuckle.
"Gather round then.." Dryden says. He then channels.
Channel energy
"Ah, I see Pharasma continues to favor me this day."
"Wait, what?" Hasmir says, unsure of what this is about. He looks around, alerted, but sees nothing out of the ordinary (whatever that means here. "What did you smell?"
Turning the way, he is met with a branding iron lunging at his face. His hand gets in the way, but not quite. His scream has equal parts pain, fear, and anger. When he finally gets the brand out, he has an ugly swelling in his face and a temper to match. "That's freaking it! I'm sick of all these haunts and traps and games. What the hells is this about? Some sick never-got-laid wizard's old attic trickhouse?"
Morbury just stares at Hasmir after his outburst, utterly at a loss. Having no idea how to respond to that, he looks around at the others, "Do any of you know how to answer such a question?"
Kayela ceases smashing the branding irons arches an eyebrow at Hasmir's outburst before nodding sagely to Morbury. She picks up a branding iron and drops it at Hasmir's feet and says "Here, ah find dis may help quell your frustration and distract from nagging question" as she hands Hasmir her Morningstar and motions to the branding iron at his feat. "A little bit ah therapy, goes ah long way"
Hasmir puts his hands on the wall, trying to steady himself and keeps repeating Ow for a few seconds, then breathes out slowsly. This place is starting to bug me.
Seeing the reactions of the people around him, he shrugs. "What? Those things hurt, people, and burns on the face hurt a lot. You know how easy it is to keep calm when something hurts so bad, right? I'll be fine, probably. Still, what IS it with this place? I've heard of ghost sounds or shaking objects, but magically heated branding irons? What kind of f%#%ed-up ghost story is that?"
He stops himself and groans quietly. By the Lady's mercy, please tell me this won't leave a brand on my face.
"There must be a source to all of this. If we are able to discern who or what is behind it all, it is possible that we could finally put an end to all of this madness. If not, we will probably have no choice but to destroy each and every one of these 'things', individually. I pray it doesn't come to that."
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Aside from the branding irons, the room has nothing in it of interest. You head to the next room up. The door to this room is locked and the key is long gone, but as the door itself is relatively rotten from years of neglect, it’s no more difficult than any other in Harrowstone to bash down.
Tangled mounds of moth-eaten fabric sit on several wooden tables, each surrounded by workbenches. Various sewing tools — shears, needles, rolls of thread, boxes of chalk, and other objects lie scattered over the floor, while the arm of what appears to be a skeleton protrudes from a stained heap of fabric to the west.
As you enter, A ghostly image of a woman rises from the area of the skeleton. She appears as a beautiful young woman dressed in a tattered but lovely blue dress. In fact, much about the ghost is blue, including her hair, the tears that run from her pale blue eyes, and the clouds of smoke that drift from her lips when she speaks.
"Who are you?" She says in a whispery voice. "Are you the new guards, come to replace the cowards that locked me in here?"
Fascinated by the spirit, Morbury steps up and responds. "No, madam. We are here to investigate, nothing more. This prison has been abandoned for quite some time. I promise you, we mean you no harm if you mean us the same. Might I ask: Who are you and why do you, spirit, not find rest?"
Before Morbury gets a chance to speak, Akydi elbows him in an exposed spot and whispers "Let me handle this"
He then moves a little closer to the lady and flashes her his best, most charming smile "I am most definitely not here to guard or lock you in any where. Why on earth somebody would seek to imprison such a lovely lady as yourself is beyond me. My friends and I are exploring and just happened upon your room, though I am quite glad we did. Had I known a beautiful woman was awaiting us, I would have come here striaght away."
Hasmir looks at the mage sternly, but does not interrupt him. Instead, he takes the cap off his head and give the spirit a nod of respect as he waits for his (as he thinks) reckless companion to pause. "And a good afternoon from me too, lady. My name is Hasmir, may I ask for your name and if there is anything I could do for you?"
Morbury looks to Akydidyka with curiosity, thinking what a strange way to speak to a ghost. Then turning to her, he narrows his eyes, looking a little closer, realizing that Akydidyka... is right. "She is quite beautiful, isn't she?" He whispers to himself. Shaking himself out of his fascination, he leans in to Akydidyka, "Akydidyka, please. You do realize she is but a tortured spirit, who's desire is to be freed of her torment?" Glancing toward her again, Morbury can't refrain from staring, and continues in a voice of one who is transfixed, "But you are... quite... right. She is most ... angelic." Snapping himself out of it--and if it were possible to tell--you would notice Morbury turning red for admitting such. Clearing his throat, Morbury steps up and responds...
Keeping his voice low, the Varisian responds to Morbury "There's a few stories I heard growing up that tell of how some ghosts don't know they're dead, and when they find out, get enraged and attack those who revealed their death to them. Which would be us. She sounded like she may not realize she's dead. Of course, if she does know, then my compliments might just keep us on her good side"
Morbury nods, "That is clever." He's now even more embarrassed at his words, as he pulls the cowl of his cloak up a little farther over his head. Why me?
Kayela looks shocked at the sudden appearance of a ghost. She responds with an icy tone with aggressive body language "Nah we do not be guards, but rather we are here to banish the spirits and end the hauntings that linger in this foul blight of a prison" and with that she tosses her morningstar away and begins casting a spell in Celestial notably in contrast to her usual shoanti prayers.
"Maiores ego vocant in potentia ad Benedicite vivos et damnaret naturam..."
..."Ancestors I call upon the power to bless the living and damn the unnatural..."
Kayela's hand glows white with divine power and she lunges towards the ghost fist raised high in an attempt to sucker punch the aberration with divine magic.
(Take the 13)
Actions:
-Free: Talk
-Free: Toss morningstar aside.
-Standard: Cast CLW.
-Move: Rush towards the ghost.
-Free: Deliever free touch attack against ghost; considered armed.
Morbury's eyes go wide as Kayela attempts to attack the spirit. "NO! Habe, Kayela si vellet nobis perdidit, illa adorti iam ego oro, nos si nos potest concilianda hoc pacifice! Lorem!" He pleads as he moves to stop her.
As she appears to not be listening to him, Morbury grabs her. Not comfortable having to resort to such actions amongst their own group, he knows it's what needs to be done.
A chill runs through Darcy's body as the translucent figure arises from the pile of junk. She listens to the group, kind of happy to actually encounter something with a mouth. She also keeps a close eye on all the inanimate objects in the room is case they decide to attack. "I've got all the stuff in the room except for that thing covered".
Arigoder watches the discussion intently, slightly puzzled by the undead thing and pleased that, for once, it wasn't trying to kill him... yet. He is somewhat surprised by the vehemence in Kayela's voice as she begins casting her spell, wishing he knew what she was saying. Morbury's response and sudden tackle surprises him further, and he places himself between Kayela and the phantom, his shield ready to push her back.
He rasps, "Enough things have tried to kill us in here, let's see if we can avoid one more"
Dryden looks at the ghost with suspicion, but will try to see what develops.
"Yes, Hold. This is most unusual. Most undead have a hatred of living and attack. This spirit does not seem to have it.'
Kayela looks struggles against Morbury as the holy magic held in hand dissipates into him with a burning sizzle. She looks shocked for a moment before glancing at the rest of her comrades with a wild confused look in her eye darting around the room erratically before settling on the ghost in front of her with a cold stare.
"Te sordida haereticus, posito, te Tshamek canis remissionis me!..........Denique Fine nos si est aditusque pacifice perdere hoc abominatio erit moram mea manu in corrigere eam scriptor viam ad interitum enim nunc ...." she gibbers out a tone of angry resignation in her voice as she struggles to free herself.
You filthy heritic, you Tshamek dog release me!....... Fine Fine let us see if there is an avenue to peacefully destroy this abomination I shall delay my hand in correcting it's path to the afterlife for now....
Kayela will continue to struggle against being held untill freed. After which she calms herself and eyes both Morbury and the ghost suspiciously and begins chanting her prayers periodically to keep her magical wards in place her fist still clenched ready to sucker punch the ghost should it do anything suspicious.
As Morbury manages to stop Kayela, he realizes his action is going to cost him. As the healing power burns upon him like a torch to flesh, he grits his teeth as he attempts to fight through the pain.
As the pain subsides, and his breathing returns to a normal rhythm, Morbury is relieved that Kayela has agreed to let the spirit speak. "Gratias." He nods, as he lets her go.
"Thank you."
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The ghost watches the struggle amongst yourselves with disinterest.
Then in response to your first questions...
"You have come to help stop the prisoners?" Her unsettling gaze turns to Akydidya.
"It is so hard....he is gone...gone.." She moans in grief as more blue tears flow from her eyes.
The ghostly woman looks up, "What? My name? I am Vesorianna. My husband, Lyvar, was the warden here when the fire destroyed us all."
She looks even sadder. "But now he is gone, taken by those dark-robed men that came here a few weeks ago, and the evil man who engineered the prison break is trying to break free."
She turns to Morbury, "When I learned of the escape attempt I came to see if Lyvar was safe. I found out that he and several guards were trapped below with the prisoners. In my desperation I dodged several guards and released the winch to the elevator in hopes they could jump on and be pulled to safety. But it didn't work. That's when several guards subdued me and locked me in here. When the fire started later, everything was madness. They left me here when they fled."
Arigoder looks down and shifts uncomfortably, wondering if offering condolences would be appropriate.
Dryden looks less suspicious of the ghost.
"Lady, do you mean to say that you have been here since the fire and your husband too? Also, what dark-robed men do you speak of?"
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Vesorianna seems to overcome her grief a bit and become more determined.
"Yes, we have been here since that fateful day. Only it has been a horrible existence. I can not leave this room. I have been able to sense the presence of my husband, but not ever reach him. The angry spirits of the prisoners were held in check by my husband, but now he is gone. I have taken my husband's burden, but I am not as strong and the prisoners do not fear me as they did Lyvar. Now there influence is slowly seeping into Ravengro. Also, the Splatterman is performing some sort of ritual and I fear that if he completes it, my power will be completely broken. You must help me! Please!"
"As for the robed men, the prisoner's spirits have only started growing in their power since the robed, evil men came and took Lyvar. The robed men left after killing the man from the village a few weeks ago."
"A man from the village, three weeks ago," Hasmir repeats with a growing understanding. "Killed by robed, evil men who took your husband Lyvar. Lyvar Hawkran, the name we saw when we were checking the outside a few days ago. Perfect. Madam, could you please tell us if you saw a bit more of what those men who took away your husband looked like?"
"Ritual? Madam, what is it that you speak of? Tell us what we can do to aide you?" Morbury asks with a great deal of worry in his voice.
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To Hasmir....
"I saw the sad end of the man from the village, slain by foul magic wielded by the leader of the black-robed villains, a thin, gray-skinned human who wore a bone breastplate and carried a black staff capped with a skull gagged by a black cloth, the cultists then bashed in the dead man’s head and face with a fragment of gargoyle from a roof above in an attempt to make the man’s death seem more like an accident."
To Morbury....
"Later that night, after they murdered the man, the black-robed cultists finished their ritual. Whatever they did, they did so out of my sight through the walls, but I felt the repercussions immediately.
It felt like a horrific storm, yet one with no wind that chilled the flesh. This windstorm chilled the soul—it felt to me as if my very being was being pulled apart. Yet the horrific sensation passed in an instant... and when it had, the presence of my husband’s spirit was gone. I can only assume that the black-robed cultists somehow managed to abduct my husband’s spirit, for since that hateful day I've felt no sign of either my husband or the black-robed cultists."
After a moment of more blue tears, she continues...
"What I do know is that every day since that event, the spirits of the murderers and sadists trapped within the walls of Harrowstone have grown more and more powerful. I know now that my husband’s presence kept the other haunts in line, and that with his ghost gone, they would have escaped to wreak unimaginable havoc, had I not stepped in to do the job my husband, until recently, had done so well."
Arigoder listens carefully to the ghost's story, then surprises himself by asking his question aloud, "Know you, then, what we can do, to contain or destroy this evil?"
"I am truly sorry, Madam. And Arigoder is right. Please tell us what we can do to end all of this; and to where you and your husband can truly rest in peace."
"A truly sad tale, that," Hasmir nods. "Dark forces seem to have been afoot here, and we come late. If they have been here three weeks ago, they probably have gone far away already. But I agree, we need to see if there's something we can do here, before we start pursuing them. This town already seems to experience strange happenings - perhaps they are not just accidental."
"A truly sad tale, that," Hasmir nods. "Dark forces seem to have been afoot here, and we come late. If they have been here three weeks ago, they probably have gone far away already. But I agree, we need to see if there's something we can do here, before we start pursuing them. This town already seems to experience strange happenings - perhaps they are not just accidental."
"I agree, Hasmir. But we now know that Professor Lorrimer's death was not accidental. And we will find his murderers. I swear it." Morbury says with a bit more emotion than he normally shows.
Arigoder nods, "I know little of these matters, but I do confess that the timing of these events suggests some sort of link to my mind."
Darcy listens to the strange conversation, a bit wary of talking to ghosts. At first her eyes flit about the room making sure noting else animates and sneaks up on the party. Then as the conversation continues, she pinches herself firmly on the upper arm to make sure she's not dreaming.
Perception
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"In the East wing, there is a storage room for valuables and possesions of the inmates. There you should be able to find items related to the five spirits of the infamous prisoners that were held here. Those items will have power over their owners, but I must warn you they will also be cursed. Be wary of them, but you will need them to defeat those spirits. The splatterman must not be allowed to complete his ritual. If he does, then my power will be completely broken and all of the evil spirits of Harrowstone will be set loose!"
Arigoder nods at the valuable information, and then asks his companions, "I know nothing of these matters, but could we protect ourselves from these curses? Perhaps dousing the items in Holy Water, or keeping them bound so we do not touch them?"
"Thank you, Madam. We will stop this 'splatterman'." Turning to the others, "Let us make haste to the east wing." Then looking to Arigoder, "I know nothing of them myself." He appears deep in thought on what might could be done. Knowing they have little time, "Let us speak on it while we make our way there." Turning his attention back to the spirit, "Madam, one last question, where is the splatterman located?"
"Wait, Morbury," Hasmir says, shaking his head. "What matter of curse lies on those relics, and how can they be used against the evil spirits? Also... I am sorry to impose on you thus, madam, but if you hold power over this place, is there any way to offer us a measure of protection on our way?"
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"I do not know what curses the items may have, or even if they are cursed, it is only an assumption on my part. As to protection, I am powerless to help. What little power I have is devoted to keeping the spirits from escaping. Even with that I am unable to prevent the Splatterman's influence from creeping into Ravengro."