Barundar stands behind and to the side of Morti, saying nothing for the moment, simply waiting to see what the drunk man's reaction to Morti will be.
Omast looks up when spoken to by Morti, "Well, look at you there friend. *Hic* A dwarf...my lucky day. Cuz you know what dwarves are known for, right? And well I..." Omast picks up the empty wineskins laying around him and peers inside..."Well, I seem to have run out of alcohol today. And I have a right to be sad, going to your original question. My brest friend, Rodrik, he's dead. I mean, best, bestest, friend ever." Omast stumbles and almost falls, but you thankfully catch him. Omast peels away from you, "Hey, hey, no funny stuff. I don't swing that way." He waits a few seconds, "Well buddy...sorry, I didn't catch your name...never mind, doesn't matter...as long as you're not a half-breed of mother's orc....ya know, of those half-bastards have been showing up in town recently, threatening the livelihoods and well-being of “worthy Trunauans.” Ya ain't got no half-orc brothers or such right?" He pauses and looks at the party. "Well, what you all staring at? Never seen someone drunk before." Omast looks at Morti, "What were we talking about again? I think you asked me something. Oh now, I remember. Right, right...drinks. So ya got one for me? If ya don't we could walk to the bar and you could buy me one. That's just as good, right, dwarf buddy?"
It is quite clear that Omast is not walking anywhere in his current condition.
Cabe flushes as he hears the man's words about half-orcs. "No, no brothers or such. Why do you ask?" he mutters in a throaty voice.
In an aside to the others he mutters under his breath: I have no magic to put his head straight. Do you think you can handle him?
The party keeps Omast entertained long enough for Falric to work his magic, stringing him along with promises of alcohol that will soon arrive. During this time, you learn that he is quite the bigot against half-orcs and is very depressed about Rodrik's death. However, in his inebriated stated, you can't follow his addled brain's logic.
Falric mixes the crystalline salt with water and hands the fizzing cocktail to Morti, who seems to have won the guard's trust. Omast, impressed by the visual presentation of the elixir, chugs it down, only to curse you all for its salty taste. After ten minutes, he feels himself going dizzy. He supports himself against the wall and vomits. After he cleans himself off, "Ugh...sorry about that. I feel so much better. I don't know what you gave me, but thank you so much for caring. I have been drinking non-stop since Rodrik's death. The other guards just left me to be but you all stuck by me. It means a lot."
When you repeat your questions, he answers more rationally and coherently. "I don't know what Rodrik was investigating prior to his death. He wouldn't tell me but I do remember him saying that it had something to do with Katrezra, the town's oracle. He can be found in the Sanctuary. He thought he could help. You know, he is supposed to "see" stuff beyond our comprehension. Maybe he knows something else. Thank you again for your help." When Falric explains to him that the graffiti is not coming off for a couple of days due to alchemical reasons, he stops trying to wash it off. "Please help Rodrik's spirit find closure. I understand now that the answer is not alcohol. Thank you friends."
Your next stop is the Sanctuary, the town's temple to Iomedae. As a local, Cabe is known here. The church's high priestess, Tyari Varvatos, a young woman from Lastwall, greets you all by name. When she sees your surprised looks, "My friends, your names are commonplace now in Trunau, after the attempt on your lives last night. Maybe Iomedae watch over thee in your journeys. How can I help?" If questioned about the oracle, Tyari follows up, "What is this about? Your investigation of Rodrik's death? The Patrol Captain had been meeting with Katrezra, a long-time half-orc resident of the Sanctuary, frequently in recent weeks. I occasionally overheard the two muttering about ghosts, half-orcs, hopeknives, and white swords, but I wasn’t able to parse any of the information into more meaningful details. Katrezra claims to have visions, and though I can’t vouch for their prophetic accuracy, I do believe they are more than just hallucinations. Unfortunately, the oracle has disappeared, right after Rodrik's death became public. His bed was neatly made, so I don't think there was any foul play but no one has seen him since. He is lame and elderly, so I doubt he would have left Trunau. And I highly doubt he is involved. Unfortunately, I have no more insight into your investigation. Iomedae’s light shines on those who seek the truth, however, and you are always welcome at this Sanctuary should you need healing or other assistance from the church."
Sense motive
Eli listens closely to the story. Assuming she doesn't notice any strange behaviors from the priest, she looks to the others glumly. "If we can't find the man, we are out of leads again."
Having bunked at the Sanctuary for the last few months, Morti racks his mind for any interaction with Katrezra that might have provided a clue to the oracle's whereabouts.
"Could we possibly inspect 'is room? Ah realize 'twould be an intrusion, but i' seems somethin' grave is afoot an' any clue t' Katrezra's thinkin' or whereabouts could 'elp."
After the priestess bids us farewell, Falric asks around with the other priests to see if they know who are the oracle's best friend(s) and who would he would go to in time of need.
Tyari sees no harm and allows you to search the oracle's room, but you find nothing of interest. Falric's questioning of one of the priests, Aaron, does yield a lead: "Katrezra was a sympathizer of the half-orcs in town, especially the Chief Defender, but if I were to fathom a guess, he respected no one more in Trunau than Sara Morninghawk. He often raved about her at meetings. so he would turn to her in need."
Just as you exit the Sanctuary, a teenage boy, a messenger by trade, out of breath runs up to you. "G'morning gents and madam. I have a message for you. Your presence is requested urgently at the Clamor."
"Wulp, it dinnae seem like wu'll fin' anythin' else oot right now. If he's got summat 'elpful to say, we oughta go with 'um."
"Maybe we could follow up on this message. Other than talking to Sara, I can't see any other way to approach our situation right now.". She turns to the boy and asks him to lead on.
Morti follows. requested by who, lad? Sara?
"Aye sir, Lady Morninghawk herself. Please follow."
You follow the teenage boy named Ephram to the Clamor where he opens the door for you. Inside the bulky haf-orc owner of the Clamor awaits you. Cabe can tell she feels a little ashamed and cannot bear to look at him. She gives the boy some silver coins and he leaves you alone. "By the look on your faces, I can see you have questions for me. I am sorry if I have misled you, but it was not my secret to tell and honestly, he did not know if you could be trusted, given that the majority of you are new in town." Sara pauses, again unable to look at Cabe. "However, after hearing how the lot of you fought off an assassination attempt, he was convinced that he could confide in you." Sara turns to a curtain that leads to her personal quarters, "They're here, please come out."
From behind the curtain steps an elderly half-orc with grayish-silver hair. You can see his arms and legs are covered by weeping sores, which cause him much discomfort and pain as he hobbles into the room. "I understand you are looking for me. I am Katrezra." Pic
"Katreza, I'd assume you know why we want to talk to you. What's going on around here? Are the orcs up to something here in town? Are they capable of murder? What is happening here?"
"Slow down child. I will tell you what I know. Rodrik came to see me about a few weeks ago. It is no great secret that I was cursed with preternatural visions many years ago, during my time with the orcs of the Empty Hand. Since I left those savages, many have sought my counsel into matters ranging from the mundane to the dire, but I’m afraid the omens that assault my dreams are nigh indecipherable, even to me, and I have no means of directing them. Rodrik originally approached me to ask for advice while courting Brinya Kelver. The love-struck fool—bless his soul—thought I might have some special insights into the traditions of her people or visions of the couple’s everlasting happiness... but come now, do I look like the romantic type?” He smiles wryly, then shakes his head and moves on. “I couldn’t help him with his relationship, but we gradually became close friends. I’d been experiencing vivid hallucinations of white swords or crosses, and dreams of the Plague House outside town. When I told him of them, he seemed to think my dreams might help with his investigation. I told him about my visions as best I could, but the muse of my nightmares is as abstruse as she is unkind. To be truthful, I don’t think even he knew exactly what he was looking for. Rodrik had run afoul of a flood troll in the Plague House not long ago, and the poor fellow was convinced it was not just an isolated incident. He came to me seeking guidance, and his curiosity was piqued by my visions. I told him that flood trolls are native to Belkzen, but they rarely roam this far south of the Flood Road. Since learning of his investigation, though, I have had nightmares unlike any before, and I fear that some greater evil may be at play within Trunau’s walls.”
The oracle pauses and reaches into the folds of his robe and pulls out a worn book. “Rodrik had plans to go back to the Plague House, but because of the unease I felt from my visions, I suggested he leave his journal with me, which he did. The night of his death, my visions were even more terrible, though still indecipherable. When news of Rodrik’s death reached me in the morning, I knew it must have been foul play, so I fled the Sanctuary, fearful that whoever targeted Rodrik would come after me as well. His death grieves me to no end, but at least my efforts bought me enough time to share this information with you.” He hands Elisen Rodrik's journal. “I don’t know who killed Rodrik, and worse, I didn’t predict the ill fate that befell him. But even if I had, I’ve learned there is little one can do to combat fate.”
Cabe can tell the newcomers the following: The Plague House, also known as the Burned Church of Sarenrae, this old, burnt-down ruin outside Trunau’s walls is the subject of numerous horror stories—most Trunauans avoid the place, believing it to be haunted.
When Elisen has a chance to review the journal, she finds mostly love poems and songs written by Rodrik to Brinya but also an interesting excerpt, namely Rodrik's last entry: Rodrik Journal
"He was investigating the Plague House. Then that's where we need to go next. It might be haunted and all, but more likely if there's there's trolls, it's something more sinister."
"Well, it appears we must walk in Rodrik's footsteps and visit the Plague House. Elly or anyone, what do we know about Flood Trolls?"
Know. Local
Elisen tries her best to figure out what exactly she knows about that particular breed of trolls, known to be located fairly close to the area.
Flood trolls are the mutated runts of scrag broods, cast out by their mothers. They have some similar abilities of the 14' tall Large regular trolls. They are Medium-sized creatures (about 7.5 feet tall) with Darkvision. They are very agile creatures but their hide is not particularly tough, unlike a normal troll's. However, it is said their hide provides them with some protection from the frigid waters (i.e. cold damage) they tend to live in, as long as they have been immersed recently. They can also hold their breath a long time underwater. In combat, they like to charge and claw their enemies twice, similar to the attack patterns of jungle cats, something normal trolls cannot do. Their limbs can wield weapons greater than their size and like normal trolls, they have regeneration, as long as they are exposed to flowing water or precipitation. As with normal trolls, acid and fire can permanently kill them. They tend to live near swamps or rivers, for obvious reasons.
Cabe is unable to look at Sara. The insight that he will never be a proper Trunau citizen strikes him hard. Or maybe, he ponders bitterly, this is one of those half-orc things that he will never quite fathom, being only a puny human. He remains silent, just nodding to affirm Elisen's and Falric's conclusion.
"An' Urnsal? Ha' ye her hidin' somewhere too, or i' she still missin'? Morti asks, somewhat peevishly. I understand these folk are cautious in the face of danger -- we've been attacked twice in as many days, inside the town! -- but I don't see anybody else making progress on these strange goings-on, and you'd think they'd all be more eager to find the truth!
To Elisen's explanation, he replies, "Aye, tha's our next stop then. Er, secon'-next, after we collect some burnin' things.
"Definitely, Morti! We will have to keep Burning the troll or we will never keep it down. Alchemist's fire and some good ole torches would come in very handy, I think. And maybe some holy water, if the place really has undead there."
"Trolls! By Torag's bushy fluff, they've come this close tae a toon? someone's gonnae hae tae go pat th' beast doon, fur sure! A dinnae know anythin' aboot ghosts, bit ah know that trolls ur nae a thing tae hae muckin' about."
Eventually, your travels take you to the doors of the Plague House. Cabe knows orc raiders burned the building down years ago, killing all the priests inside. The Plague House’s front doors sit three feet above the ground. Charred wooden beams and ash are all that remains of a small porch and stairs that once led to the entrance. The small windows flanking either side of the doorframe are broken, but a large stained glass window dominating the face of the building to the right remains in fine shape, and shows a varicolored image of Iomedae holding her sword aloft.
Eli will cast Mage Armor on herself, as the explorations begin. She offers to cast same on Falric as well, if he would care for it.
Falric is in the lead and who needs to climb when you can jump, as the spry hafling leaps up to the front doors.
"Your spell is much appreciated, Elly. There might be enemies inside. I've got the light issue covered for me, you, and Cabe, since the dwarves can see just fine." He casts a spell and four lights that resemble torches or lanterns appear. Dancing Lights.
The doors to the Temple are charred and weather-beaten heavy oak, but they open easily enough at the bard's push. Inside it is dark, but Ric's dancing lights illuminate 40' up ahead. You find yourself in a 10' wide hallway heading east. 10-15' ahead on the southern wall, you see a pair of double doors. 40' from you on the northern wall is a door. The dwarves both look and see a T section 50' away and a wall 60' from your current location.
So where do you head to: southern door, northern door, or T-section?
After helping any up who need it, Morti suggests taking the closest, southern door first.
Following the inquisitor's sound advice, the party heads to the southern door. Again, the charred door creaks open at the bard's push. Illuminated by Ric's lights, which obey his command and fly about the room, you find yourself in a large room, 40' wide and 25' long. Two rows of scorched, wrought-iron bed frames take up most of the space in this soaring chamber, resting between a fire-blackened altar to the southwest and double doors to the northeast. A second set of double doors leads to the northwest, and a single iron door exits the chamber to the southeast. Brightly colored holy figures stare down from the stained-glass windows built into the blackened stone walls, their visages noticeably less damaged than the rest of the room. The vaulted ceiling is 25 feet high in this room.
Being the materialistic fiend that he is, Falric looks around and under the statues and beds to see if there is any treasure lying around, while keeping an eye out for danger.
As Falric steps 5' eastward from his current position to search under the beds, it is not his eyes that alert him and Morti to danger, but their nostrils, as suddenly from nowhere a powerful stench of burning flesh assails their senses!
As your eyes tear up from the stench, the party now sees the burnt corpses of plague victims appear on all the bed frames, sitting straight up and are about to scream, their mouths full of fire and ashes! Barundar, Cabe, and Elisen find themselves overcome with terror as they are unable to speak or act...
Falric recognizes the apparition as a haunt, a hazardous region created by unquiet spirits that react violently to the presence of the living.
Haunt rules:
Positive energy applied to the haunt (via channeled energy, cure spells, and the like) can damage the haunt's hit points (a haunt never gains a Will save to lessen the damage done by such effects, and attacks that require a successful attack roll to work must strike AC 10 in order to affect the haunt and not merely the physical structure it inhabits). Unless the haunt has an unusual weakness, no other form of attack can reduce its hit points. If the haunt is reduced to 0 hit points by positive energy, it is neutralized, though not destroyed.
Cabe is overwhelmed by the stench and the tragedy of the place.
Thankful for his innate resistance to fear and sensing the sadness of the scene, Falric keeps his wits and acts. He intones magic and touches the nearest bed that he can reach. "Rest spirits....at least for now.
Morti follows the halfling's lead, laying hands on the apparition.
"Let go thi' soul, Droskar!"
Falric's burst of positive energy is enough to quell the spirits and the apparitions slowly fade away before their screaming torment is heard.
With the spirits neutralized, the gold hungry bard searches the room and finds some treasures (to be listed later) and a trapdoor under one of the beds. It is barred from the inside however. You can smash through it with time but make a lot of noise. Or you can take one of the four exits from this room.
"Nice reflexes, Ric! That's one problem down...no telling how many more to go," she laughed. She got back to examining her surroundings in the dark abandoned place.
"Any idea wha' plagues these souls? Can we put them t' rest, d'ye think, or jus' make sure we ain't 'ere when they return?"
, I'd vote for leaving it and moving on.[/ooc]
Treasure found: an ornate hopeknife (worth 100 gp), a heart-shaped gold locket (worth 45 gp), and 63 sp.
You leave the barred trapdoor alone...for now.
Morti believes that nothing short of a Hallow spell will be needed to put the torment of the burning souls to rest.
So that leaves 3 exits from this room:
1. The way you entered.
2. The NE exit
3. The Southern exit.
"Thanks, Elly. I am just glad I was able to give those spirits a brief respite from their pain. We will have to come back and cleanse this room. I agree with Morti that we should leave the trapdoor alone. Let's not lose the edge of surprise just yet."
Falric leads the party to the southern exit.
Falric opens the door to the south, which connects this small stone extension to the Plague House’s main building. A large steel lock box sits in front of a steep stone staircase that winds down into darkness.
As the dancing lights illuminate the room, three filthy rats the size of small dogs appear on the steps, their eyes glittering!
Falric springs into the room and attacks the furthest flat-footed rat.
Morti steps up to the closest rat, eschewing the halfling's flashy moves, and takes a swing --
Two swings, two dead dire rats.
Eli casts Acid Splash at the last flat footed rat.
RTA
Damage