At the bottom of the oubliette you find a collection of bones which you assume to be the Loppers along with a single, thick skull - probably that of a dwarf.
There is also a length of frayed and rotted rope and a number of items probably stolen from guards or guard rooms throughout this level, namely;
A broken heavy crossbow with 120 bolts,
A masterwork tower shield,
A heavy mace (magic, +1)
A curiously carved block of stone (magic, stone of alarm)
A Shield Cloak
"We should collect his bones and give them the same treatment as Ferramin's. And, on our way out of this place for hopefully the last time, we must confirm with the Warden's wife that her work is , indeed done."
Constantin lets out his breath and posts his longspear. "We really did it! I agree, Raj. Let's tell Vesoriana and then head back and give the rest of the town the good news, too," he says with a smile.
Vesorianna is smiling when you reach her chamber once again. It is a sad smile, but still a welcome one.
After you have explained what happened below she says:
I know. I could feel their presences diminishing one by one. You have done a great thing here.
When you are a warden's wife you accept certain responsibilities. And these don't end when you pass on I'm afraid. she chuckles, again a welcome sound.
I will never leave this place, not while I am separated from my husband's spirit. Though with his badge at least I am no longer confined to the room in which I died. The vile prisoners are gone and whilst I am here they will never return. That is my responsibility and the fate I have accepted. That is, until Lyvar returns to me and we can share the Watch or perhaps even destroy those spirits forever so that we may join our unborn son in the afterlife. She touches her stomach lightly.
Lyvar didn't know. I was going to tell him that night over dinner. Our boy never saw the light of day but I know he is waiting for us and one day we will be a family again.
As the spirit fades and Raj drops the axe, Zed breaths deeply and scans the room for any residual undead. After being reassured, he gives a curious look and picks up the axe. "The connection is broken. It is simply a magic weapon now." Zed puts it on his belt since Raj is clearly uninterested.
As Vesorianna explains what is to happen now, Zed looks down with a dark glare on his face. An undead whose purpose is to stop other undead. Pharasma, guide me. Your lessons say to put her to rest, but she herself may do more work for you as an undead than moved on. Would you care for the principal of the matter or for the ergonomics? Zed remains silent and staring down, tetsubo gripped with white knuckles.
"We shall endeavor to reunite you with your husband, and bring you both to your rest. Thank you for your help and guidance, my lady. I hope your time may be more peaceful, at least, until we return."
He bows as he makes his way out, also ready to be quit of the place.
You have my thanks. And also this.
She indicates the warden's badge that now bears a mixed blue glow.
It will help you against my kind.
You have such goodness in you, all of you. It's like a beacon that shines through the darkness in this place. And that's why I would ask you not to return. Whether this place is raised to the ground or it stands as a monument forever, I will be here. But it may take a hundred years or even eternity for Lyvar to return to me and it would pain me so to see you all grow old and pass on. You should go. Live your lives. But remember I will think of you fondly for all time.
She fades away before your eyes, drifting like smoke on the breeze but somehow the place does not seem so oppressive nor frightening for any of you.
Zed continues to look down. I may not be immune to the effects of age, but my curse gives me longevity. Maybe not soon, but I will return to make sure this matter is out to rest. As she fades Zed's hand clenches reflexively, then he sighs. "We should deliver the good news to the town." He says in a deadpan voice.
Vala nods solemnly as Vesorianna bestows the badge of her husband upon the group to then depart. "I hope you find rest with Lyvar sooner than later, Vesorianna. And I am sorry for what the Whispering Way has done to you."
As the group returns from the derelict prison, the old woman remains quiet and somber. For all their victories in the past two days, it's plain that they've done little to ease whatever weighs upon her thoughts.
You're back! Kendra cries. It's really over? she asks in hope and then fills the room with laughter when several of you nod. You're heroes! Every one of you and this town needs to know about it! Get some rest and clean yourselves up - I'm rounding everyone up and this place is going to have a celebration like it's never seen before!
Rajuna, please don't sell yourself short Raj. Kendra says seriously. Before a few weeks ago none of you had anything in common besides the love you had for my father, and eventhough it was that tragedy that brought us together I want you to know I consider you dear friends.
She takes Rajuna's hands in her own and fixes him with a dazzling smile.
You're an amazing man Raj, you're all amazing. And this town should recognise what you've done for them.
Heroes she says again.
"I'm inclined to agree. I could use a little relaxation after all of this tension!" says Constantin with a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
Well Zokar throws a great party when he has occasion. You rest up here and get cleaned up. I'll go and tell him he has a reason to uncork his best wine! Kendra says.
If you're up for it, of course...? she asks then, tentatively.
"I, for one, am most definitely up for it." Kazamir answers with a weary smile.
AS Kendra heads off to prepare, Kazamir retires to the tiny room he has been using. Closign the door, he sits on the bed for a few long, quiet minutes, staring at nothing.
Not only did we prevent disaster in the town, but we laid to rest evils that had been brewing for a century. This was a great success, and a worthy memorial to the Professor.
So why am I still so troubled? I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Liekt eh prison has one last gasp to throw at us...unlikely as that is.
ANd, lurking out in the Dark, still...the Whispering way.
He shakes himself out of unease and beings to clean and dress.
Well, in any case, we should have a bit of a rest in Liepstadt. Miss Lorimorr will be safe there, Angels willing...
Twenty minutes later, a clean and refreshed Kazamir rejoins the company downstairs.
The group spends the remainder of the afternoon resting and relaxing until early evening.
Kendra and Jominda have been busier, spreading the good word of the groups activities at the prison.
Zokar is going to be delighted, the place is going to be heaving tonight. Jominda laughs. So wear your glad-rags. Who knows, as town heroes some of you may even get lucky!
Jominda! Kendra cries, stifling a laugh. But then she shrugs and says; You really are celebrities round here so she's actually probably right.
Once everyone is ready to depart, the group heads out to the Laughing Demon.
Kendra is wearing an ankle length, skin tight black dress, trimmed with silver under a mink half cloak. Her hair is worn up in a high bun held in place with a jade comb from Tian Xia (a gift from her father).
Jominda, so often seen in cotton overcoat and lab spectacles, wears her blonde hair long and in waves. Her pale blue dress runs to her knee, accentuating the curves of her body. She meets you at Kendras and agrees to walk the short distance to the Inn, looping her arm through Hazel's - I'm not used to heels!
The Laughing Demon is Ravengro's only tavern. The owner is a rotund, red faced man named Zokar Elkarid. You remember him from the funeral and recognise his son from his running around delivering the weekly newspaper.
Zokar Elkarid holds the philosophy that the best way to meet the horrors of the world is with a jest, for if one can laugh at the worst life has to offer, there remains little to fear. His warm and friendly tavern does its best to live up to this admirable philosophy, down to the menu which features such delights as
vampire steaks (cuts of beef skewered on thick wooden spikes), wolf balls (lamb meatballs served on plates painted to look like the face of the full moon), corpse chowder (a thick stew with red broth and chunks of meat), and liquid ghosts (a sweet pale ale that glows faintly with a greenish tint). The taven is already roaring by the time you arrive, packed to the rafters with drunken locals.
Zokar bellows above the din.
There is a huge roar and more than a few wolf whistles that's greets this announcement.
Several locals usher the group up to the bar and Zokar offers them whatever they want on the menu for free. As well as his exotic sounding menu he also has the standard assortment of liquors -wine from Taldor and Cheliax, Oldlaw whiskey from Andoran, he's even got a bottle of shackles Rum and one of Irriseni vodka stashed for special occasions. Occasions like tonight.
SHOTS! Zokar roars, lining up a dozen small glasses and filling them with Iriseni vodka with a single sweeping motion.
A band begins playing a series of jaunty tunes.
Soon, people are crowding around the heroes, clapping them on the backs and asking for details on what happened at the prison. Several young women are making doe eyes at the men in the group whilst some of the male townsfolk appear to be plucking up the courage to speak to Hazel.
It is certainly a far cry from the reception you had some two and a half weeks ago.
~With Kendra~
Zed remains silent, letting the others take point while he lurks in the back. He is too caught up in his own mind to offer an opinion.
Zed explains the spirits of the prison to the Father, and how Veso seems to be a benevolent one but is remaining here. "Leaving her to exist goes against my sacred vows, and against my beliefs. She seeks to prevent other abominations against the Lady of Graves, but she herself is one and must be put to rest. I...don't know what to do."
~Before the Party~
As everybody starts getting dressed up, Zed looks around and sighs. I suppose it must happen then. Sometimes I forget how the short-lived humans love to celebrate so much. Even the small things like this. He goes to his room and takes out his holy text; it has been far too long since he has had some quiet time to go over it, and the party going on would be a good opportunity. He blankly scans a few lines and frowns. Well what happens if something goes down at the party, and you're not there? Like the church, or Petros. Maybe Gibs has a spine now and will actually try something. Convincing himself, Zed grabs his inquisitor's coat and throws it on. He starts walking out and passes by a mirror, then takes a good long look at himself. A half-undead dressed to kill, with weapons brandishing from every point, an armored coat that looks both intimidating and fearsome, and a deadpan look that gives the impression of a callused murderer. He stares at himself for a moment, looking at the fearsome creature looking back at him. Then he nods. Good. Let them remember I am a thing to be feared.
~At the Party~
Zed walks in, his clothes scrubbed spotless and there is a faint smell of a musky cologne on him, and he is in a nicer coat than normal, but he wears the garb of the inquisitors. and remains armed. He looks more like a noble guard than a celebrating hero.
Son... you're absolutely right. Grimburrow says with a sigh as he reaches for his tumbler of ubrandy. The undead should not be suffered to exist. In that, you are a good and loyal servant of our Lady of Graves.
But let me tell you something about ghosts. When a soul is not allowed to rest due to some great injustice, either real or perceived, it sometimes comes back. In this case it hasn't been raised or used as a tool, it hasn't hurt anyone and in fact is looking to seek others of it's kind from doing so. Beings such as Vesoriana are in eternal anguish, lacking in substance and unable to set things right themselves.
So yes she should be put to rest, but not simply because she is a ghost and therefore should be, but because it is the right and merciful thing to do.
But let me tell you something else about ghosts. he adds with a crooked finger pointed at the inquisitor. They are absolute bastards to try and eradicate once and for all, second only to vampires... he lets the word draw out for emphasis. ... in my experience.
Thing is, seems to me from what you've told me that the only way to put her to ultimately put her to rest is to reunite her with her husband's spirit. That's the only reason she's still on this plane anyway and it is our duty to get her off this Plane and into the Boneyard. Understand?
The pauses for a long time then before asking flatly;
Ain't never seen a dhampir in the service before. Does the one who sired you still exist?
Constantin seems a little awkward at first while making preparations, but he relaxes into the celebratory atmosphere as the festivities unfold. He dances a few times (poorly) and has a few drinks (just a couple) and circulates among the crowd a bit, meeting various townsfolk and shaking hands, nodding his head, occasionally pointing and exclaiming with comments such as "Oh! Yes! I heard about your shop when I visited the tailor" or "No, I had no idea that you had an eligible daughter. Um, I must be going!"
After making a meandering path through various townsfolk he returns to the group with his hat under his arm. "That dress suits you, Hazel," he says to the warrior-priestess, "perhaps you could find out if Kendra had it made locally or made it herself and purchase a variant of your own." He inclines his head to Zed and says, "Zed, you've shown all of Ravengro that you can be trusted and counted on, now's the chance to cement that and let everyone see that you really are one of us. Lighten up just a little bit, have a dance or two and perhaps a smile!"
Zed bows his head. "Forgive me Father. In my passion I have only remembered the what that we fight, not the how. Most undead are either malevolent souls or tools, but she is a victim of injustice."
"Yes, we should set things right. But I don't even know where to start with reuniting her with her husband. It sounds like she intends for us to simply move on and let her handle it, but I cannot just do that. I need to set things right."
Zed raises a brow. In his experience? "I've not tried against undead so powerful, but I have heard stories. From what I've heard liches are particularly hard eradicate."
Zed looks at the Father. "Yes. The circumstances of my birth are a cruel irony. Cursed to be half-dead, but given their defenses so their weapons don't work as well against me. The ability to see in the dark, negative energy affinity, resistance to disease. In a way, I hate what I am. Sometimes I think that if all other undead in the world were eradicated..." He trails off, not finishing the thought.
Zed scowls. "Yes, the creature is still alive. I know nothing about him. My mother refused to tell me a word. She thought I would go after him." He clenches his fist. She was right.
Zed looks around the room as Constantin talks to him. "I don't get the point of these kind of celebrations. Our work isn't done here, and there is so much more yet to be done elsewhere. I'm surprised a race with such a short lifespan is so interested in wasting time."
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Constantin replies to Zed, "Because we're not just machines, Zed. We have work to do, certainly - but why? Why doesn't everyone do the kinds of jobs that we do? Because people need the opportunity to do what they do well, to have their lives unfold according to fate or chance or destiny or whatever you believe is how people's experiences arise. Your job involves protecting communities, but those communities exist because of the bonds between people, and those bonds arise from our shared experiences. Shared experiences can be bad, like the horror of the ghosts and undead that we just faced, but they can also be good - like this celebration of life and of getting back to living another day."
Constantin gestures to some of the other revelers and says, "Pharasma guides the dead, but she has to judge them according to how they lived. You know only too well that the unquiet dead are often people who left behind regrets and unfulfilled ties to the living world. These kinds of celebrations not only bring communities together, but they give people closure over tragedy and satisfaction at the good outcomes when a job is well done - whether it's defeating a host of undead or just bringing in a harvest that will feed everyone for the next year."
"Has it not occurred to you that, in the fullness of time, when your predestined end comes, you may look back on your life with some regret or some despair and become one of the very things that you hated?" risks the psychic.
"When was the last time you met an undead creature that was happy? Happiness is for the living. Sharing it is how we show that we're alive. And love is how communities grow and create their new generations. It's because we are going to die that we have to celebrate life."
"Ah, I see. It's about the social constructs of keeping society together. That is understandable." He says like an outside observer. "Keeping communities bonded is something Pharasma looks well upon. Alright, so let's celebrate." Zed turns to look at the bartender, glances at all the drinks with a cocked head, then leans over to Constantin. "What would you recommend to drink?"
Vala remains dour and subdued as the discussion for a proper celebration gains traction, though she offers a weak, forced smile and nod whenever anyone looks to her for her input. "Yes, yes. Oh, indeed. A marvelous celebration, of course!" And while her words are encouraging, her tone is distant and distracted. Indeed, so distracted that the old woman nearly vanishes into thin air at the first chance, slipping up to her room and quietly closing the door behind her.
Moving to the bed, she draws her ruined shawl from the hook by the door and sits with a quiet sigh, running the stained rag through her hands as she stares blankly at the floor. Soon, her eyes well with tears as all the sorrow she's put off up to now comes crashing down upon her.
Vala follows along behind the younger members of the group, smiling sweetly and waving them on toward the inn whenever they cast a questioning glance back over their shoulder toward her. She ensures they all file into the inn and closes the door in front of her, remaining outside.
She finds a small, rickety bench beneath on of the soot-smeared windows and sits in its soft, yellow glow. She can feel the muted shouts and cheers through her back as she leans against the wall almost as easily as she can hear them.
She whispers to the dusk air, "Oh Petros, my old friend, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry." It wasn't the time for drinks or revelry, at least not for Valavastra Cross. No, for her, the grief was still all too near.
KAzamir's idea of dressing up for celebration is actually dressing down a little. Skipping his usual waistcoat and neckcloth, he opens the throat of his last clean shirt. He gives his long coat a thorough brushing - hoping that the burns and cuts and holes don't show too much.
He follows along with his friends to the Demon, sparing Vala a curious raised eyebrow as she drifts behind, but deciding to respect her privacy.
Within, he seats himself at the corner of the bar, seeking to maintain his usual air of courteous but not-quite-approachable authority. This lasts until about halfway through his second glass of Oldlaw Whiskey. He smiles a little more, and, encouraged, locals chat a little more, sharing thier jokes and stories. Soon, Kazamir's penetrating baritone laugh rings through the crowd-noise, and a wide, genuine smile creases his face.
Aye, liches are tough. The worst. Grimburrow agrees. Ain't never had occasion to tangle with one and don't particularly want to, I'm faithful priest from a small town - I'm not an idiot. But from the stories at the seminary, liches are arrogant and that breeds overconfidence. You go for the phylactery and they are done.
Vamps operate in the dark, very hard to find 'less they want to be found. Figure that's why the one who made you is still out there.
You're doing a noble thing, son. Grimburrow says, earnestly. You ain't had the best start in life but I respect your devotion despite that. People aren't going to make it easy for you, but you let your faith be your shield son, knowing that your walk stand-backed and righteous.
He stands then, and offers his small but strong hand.
Vala sits in the chill air outside the Laughing Demon, wondering in distaste at the monicker of the place.
The sun sits heavy on the horizon and gives the whole town a warm, golden glow. In the day's past it has not so warm and welcoming. But for her it will always be a place of terrible loss.
Inside the inn, Kendra smiles as everyone begins to unwind, but it isn't long before she notices Vala's absence.
Excuse me, Hazel. she says. See if you can get Kazamir to dance, don't worry about Zed, I think Jominda has set herself a personal challenge to get him on the dancefloor! she jokes.
Kendra makes her way back outside, looking up and down the street before noticing her surrogate Aunt on a weathered bench across the square.
Aunt Vala, won't you join us? she asks, taking a seat beside her.
A man, already well oiled by the time the heroes arrive, leans heavily on his hand, mouth hanging open slackly and eyes wide with wonder as Rajuna tell's his story of the cursed axe.
So... it was like... part of you...? he slurs. Like... he gestures in a non-descript way, face contorting with concentration. ...sir, that's awful... surely is.
He's quiet for a moment then.
Say, was that warden's wife as pretty as she is in the statue by the river?
He is almost instantly swamped by jeers from his fellows, two men removing their cloth caps and begin slapping him into silence.
Damned idiot. one of the other men says flatly. Like me get you another drink Mr Rajuna, Sir.
Uh... Markus Varic. he says by way of introduction. I do some work with Jorfa at the forge.
There is a fair bit of cajoling at the corner of the bar where Kazmir is ensconced, a fair bit of reluctance...but there has also been a fair bit of whiskey. AS the locals strike up a lively tune, heavy with fiddles, a mischievous widow near of an age with the former inspector finally pulls him from his bar stool and toward the dance floor.
As he rises, surprise at his own unsteadiness flashes across his face. He pauses a moment to set his empty glass upside-down on the bar and push it back toward a grinning Zokar with a teasing wag of his finger.
He manages not to lose his footing too often or too badly, but quickly begs off a second dance, catching his breath against the wall.
He smiles and bows his dance partner off back to the floor, but the smile fades as he glances around the room. He glances down at his own unsteady hands and mentally curses himself. Gods be good, the night would be a peaceful and happy one. 'Twere it not, gods alone knew what use he would be.
He checks over the room, an inspectors old habits rising back through the whiskey-laced fog, counting his companions. After a few moments, he ambles through the crowd to where Zed and Constantin are talking.
"Has Vala joined us yet? And have either of you seen Miss Lorimorr lately?" HE does his best to keep his questions casual, but, inhibited as he is, a bit of his out of place anxiety comes through.
Constantin cranes his head about and replies, "I saw Vala just a few moments ago, but I am not spotting her at the moment... nor Kendra. Hrm. Should we go find them?"
Kazamir shakes his head.
"Relax, have a drink. I'll step outside and clear my head for a moment while I look for them. Just..." he leans in to speak quietly to the pair.
"If I'm not back in five minutes, don't come looking for me one at a time...like I'm doing. Gather the rest and come in force, eh?"
He is smiling as he says it, but it is his usual, tight smile, that always leaves one wondering is he is joking or not...
He nods to Zed, and steps out the front door. Straightening and drawing a deep breath of fresh air, he glances around for Kendra and Vala.
Constantin nods and Kazamir hears his mental whisper once more. "Five minutes, understood."
Constantin gives a half-smile and says, "He said he was going to clear his head. I think he was a little wobbly from all of the free-flowing libations tonight. He mentioned that he was going to look for Vala or Kendra outside. I think they slipped out a bit earlier -- nothing to worry about, unless we wind up not seeing them for a while."
"Thanks for the dance, by the way. Sorry about your feet."
Vala offers Kendra a weak smile as she approaches. "Oh, I don't think so dear." The old woman demures and pats Kendra's hand as she sits down. "I don't want to trouble you though, sweetheart. Why don't you head back in and enjoy your time with the others?" She nods to the Laughing Demon just as Kaz emerges. "Ah, see there. One of those handsome young men has already grown sore at your absence."