Heedless of what Zed may have discovered, Rajuna opens his backpack then pulls out a coil of rope with a grappling hook. He runs his eyes along the wall near the site of the accident, looking for the - relatively - safest place to climb with decent handholds and features that might support a grappling hook.
To Kazamir, he says, "I don't see another way to find out if that block came from the roof, do you?"
"This is curious." Zed says, pointing out what he's found to the others.
Constantin continues to sat his curiosity with the tomes by idly flicking through the two that Hazel is not preoccupied with.
On Verified Madness is a treatise on aberrations and their links to the Dark Tapestry, the endless black between the stars.
Serving Your hunger is a copy of one of several unholy books sacred to the goddess Urgotha. Lorrimor's notations liberally sprinkle the margins but there is nothing out of the ordinary given his field of study.
As he moves to place them back in the chest, he notices that the inside lid is just fractionally out of kilter with the rest. He taps it once and confirms it is, indeed, hollow. The lid slides back and a small, tightly bound notepad tumbles out.
Raj whips the hook and line in a tight spiral before sending it towards the roof.
Constantin hesitates for a moment before he picks up the journal.
"Vala..." he calls out. "Have you seen this before?"
"Only if the professor predicted that he was not long for the mortal world. Conversely, you don't hide something like this unless you think it's possible that someone will see it who shouldn't."
Constantin keeps his voice down as he replies to Hazel.
"Like a hidden enemy... or, perhaps, your own innocent of a daughter."
Kendra suddenly looks up over her tea and says;
That's Father's journal. the red leather is worn and cracked and as familiar to her as anything in this house. Why would he hide his journal in a locked box? Open it Constantin. she says, perhaps somewhat surprisingly. There must be a reason he hid it, don't you think and given that it was in a box that was only to be opened in the event of his death that means he must have meant us - you - to find it.
Raj secures his grappling hook to the rope and with a well-practiced motion he soon has it whirling beside him before he releases it and sends it whistling up toward the roof of the Prison. He hears it clatter loudly above and then he pull the rope gingerly until it catches hold of something solid at the top.
He grabs the rope and begins hauling himself up the side of the building.
Raj pulls himself slowly and steadily upwards, curling his legs around the rope, pulling with his strong arms and using the wall where he can for footholds. He passes the first floor windows and tries to peer inside but the interior is so dark he can make nothing out. He continues until he begins to feel a grating at the top, the hook sliding suddenly and then catching again. With another pull he begins to see the edge of the roof but then.... all of a sudden he is falling, arms pinwheeling madly as the tension in the rope gives way with noise of braking stone.
He lands on the flat of his back all of the air being knocked out of him with a sudden whoosh. As he groans in pain he sees a chunk of stone hurtling toward him from above and he rolls instinctively to avoid it, the lump landing with a wet splat where his head was just a fraction of a second before.
Constantin reluctantly opens the journal -- carefully, to prevent any more damage to the already-cracked cover -- and, after checking to see if anything is contained within, flips to the final entry and reads it.
Constantin opens the journal and begins flicking through, immediately recognising the cramped, particular lettering of the Professor's script.
The majority of the entries are relatively bland, accounting for day-to-day activities in a small town. The professor has circled several entries in the book with red ink, though and it is these that particularly draw your attention.
Ten Years Ago:
The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.
Two Months Ago:
It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?
One Month Ago:
Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense—the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity — there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.
Twenty Days Ago:
It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.
Eighteen Days Ago:
I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation—hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.
Seventeen Days Ago:
Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I don’t have time to update my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.
Zed looks up from studying the magic at the sound of Raj hitting the ground. He breaks into a run until he's next to the man, then grimly helps him to his feet. "Should be more careful, this place is falling apart."
As they examine the runes, Kazamir gathers his concentraion for a moment, then searches for magical aura emanating from the writing.
Kazamir also runs to assist Raj, then takes a long look at the battlement above.
Assuming no threat is evident, he says "There is one more thing I would like to try before we move on,"
DETECT PSYCHIC SIGNIFICANCE
School divination; Level medium 0, mesmerist 0, occultist 0,
psychic 0, spiritualist 0
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S
Range 40 ft.
Area 40-ft.-radius burst, centered on you
Duration instantaneous
Saving Throw none; Spell Resistance no
You detect the presence of psychically significant items in your
vicinity. Such items are those that might have significant psychic
imprints or histories that can be read by the psychometry
occult skill unlock (see page 196), or items under the effects
of the charge object or implant false reading spells. Items
within range that contain significant psychic energy spark a
recognition in your mind’s eye, but no other information is
imparted. This spell doesn’t automatically detect magic items
or strongly aligned items, though such items often have storied
histories and might have had previous owners who possessed
psychic abilities.
Raj rolls over, groans, and slowly staggers to his feet with Zed's help. He takes a moment to catch his breath and slowly twists his back - testing it for injury. A wince later, he says, "Don't think I broke anything but that's gonna be a hell of a bruise tomorrow." He nods thanks to the dhampir then glares at the wall and the chunk of masonry that sought his skull, professional pride bruised as much as his back.
"Wrecked as this place is, I've never lost a hook quite like that." He coils the rope and collects the hook, debating another go at the wall. He examines the chunk that just fell.
HP NL: 3 / 11
Arrows:
Hero Points: 1
Spell Effects:
As Hazel begins to wax on about engineering and structural engineering, Pyth seems to smile at the girl, at least as much as ravens are able.
Vala nods in recognition of the journal as Constantin produces it, but she shakes her head at any questions as to what it might contain. As Kendra urges them to begin reading, a chill ripples down Vala's back as she and Pyth exchange worried glances.
Moving closer, Vala's face grows ashen as The Whispering Way appears in Petros' familiar scrawl. Her hand comes up to her mouth as a light gasp escapes her, "Oh my."
She shoots the others a worried look as the realization dawns, "If ghosts or other spirits infest the grounds of the prison... that's where the others went this afternoon, isn't it? Oh, I do hope they don't run into whatever it was that scared Petros badly enough for him to steal from the Pharamins!" Another chill ripples through the old woman's shoulders at this, even as a passing cloud steals some of the light from the room. "This is terrible business!"
Kazamir concentrates on the area for a moment, trying to peel through the layers of history in the place to find something of significance and he suddenly feels a crushing psychic sensation. He is glad not to have revealed more, for the sake of his own sanity.
The scarred Varisian considers the failing light and his wrenched back... then decides Harrowstone has won this round. He stows his climbing gear and puts his mind to work instead.
Like any smart and inveterate lawbreaker, Rajuna has a keen interest in knowing about the lockups he may be sent to... and the best ways to escape. He tries to recall any information he may have read or heard regarding Harrowstone Prison.
Harrowstone is a ruined prison - partially destroyed by a fire in 4661, the building has stood vacant ever since. The locals suspect that it’s
haunted, and don’t enjoy speaking of the place.
The prison’s warden perished in the fire, along with his wife, although no one knows why she was in the prison when the fire occurred. A statue commemorating the warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tragedy — that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town.
Agents of the Whispering Way often seek alliances with undead creatures, or are themselves undead. The Whispering Way’s most notorious member was Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, although the society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer.
Raj works his shoulders painfully as he silently looks over the bloody runes that Zed found. "Is that as bad a business as I think it is?"
At the prison
Kazamir shakes his head vigorously.
"This is an ill-omen-ed place. Perhaps we can investigate further tomorrow, when we'll have the light longer. I don't like the looks of things either."
When Zed mentions the jail,
"I would like to look in on Galus - and any investigation regarding him - as well. Join us, Raj? With the likes of Gibs and any drunken cronies about, I hesitate at the thought of any of us out alone, particularly after dark."
AS they walk back toward the town:
"Unless we find evidence that the professor was making those runes, we know that someone else was here in teh recent past. I am not yet convinced that Petros's death was purely accidental."
Raj shakes his head. "I doubt Doc etched those runes in the wall and I can't believe he smeared'em with blood even to read'em. He could have slathered mud just as easily." He goes silent for a time, thinking. "Nah. Looks to me like Doc stumbled on some bad folk up there and it got him kil't one way or another... Not that I'm ready to say that to Miss Lorr'mor quite yet."
"I would like to look in on Galus - and any investigation regarding him - as well. Join us, Raj? With the likes of Gibs and any drunken cronies about, I hesitate at the thought of any of us out alone, particularly after dark."
The scarred Varisian hesitates before responding. "Think I'll leave you when we get to the house... I try to avoid gaols and folks that earn themselves a long rot in one."
HP NL: 3 / 11
Arrows:
Hero Points: 1
Spell Effects:
As Hazel shoots her a worried look, Vala's gaze snaps over to Pyth. "Pyth, go warn them quick as your wings might carry you." The raven offers little more than a somber bow before hopping from his perch and out an open window, zipping through the air as quickly as he can.
He mutters darkly to himself as he flies,
Pyth cuts a streak through the air as he darts south of town and out to Harrowstone as quickly as his wings will carry him.
As he flaps through the mist, he spots his quarry making their way back into Ravengro and he flits down to land on one of the Posting Poles as they pass underneath.
he chirps, his head cocking to one side in that avian manner.
As they reach the town square, the trio splits once again, with Kazamir and Zed heading toward the Jail and Raj making hiw own way.
The Jail is a squat, grey building whose front looks more like an office than anything else. There is a half windowed door in front that bears the dim glow of a candle or two from within. The door itself is locked and a bell-pull hangs beside.
Kazamir's eyebrows raise at the arrival of Vala's companion.
"Yes...I think tomorrow is looking like a MUCH better idea."
He nods at Raj as they part, and rings the bell-pull outside of the town jail.
The pair wait a few minutes before a tall, silhouetted figure appears in the window.
Sheriff Caellar unsnaps the lock and leans his angular body against the doorframe. He is dressed in simple cotton slacks and shirt, unarmed besides a knife that pokes out atop his boot.
Help you gentlemen?
"Good evening sheriff. I apologize for the late visit, we ended up being busier than we originally anticipated. We were just wanting to talk to Galus and ask you if anything about the matter has been decided. If you would rather we come back tomorrow at an earlier hour just say the word."
Considering the events at the prison and the raven's warning, Raj checks his approach to the door. He turns aside and vanishes into the night's gloom doing a cautious swing around the house's perimeter - looking for weaknesses, angles of safe approach, and good surveillance points. If Doc was being hunted, walk the hunter's path.
HP NL: 3 / 11
Arrows:
Hero Points: 1
Spell Effects:
"I've only heard the barest mention of the Whispering Way before, and what I've heard can be surmised from Petros' journal near enough, I'd wager." Vala's nervousness seems to melt as Pyth flits back through the window a few minutes later. "I take it you found them then, Pyth?"
The Sheriff considers the two men standing on his doorstep and rubs idly at his eye with the back of his hand, not bothering to stifle a yawn.
He'll be remanded in custody. I've been to see Tam's widow. That went about as well as you might think it did, be a tough winter for her an' the little'un this year without anyone earning coin in the family. But we'll see her right.
As for your friend he'll stay here until I can get word to a magistrate in Lepistadt most likely, one who can hear the case. My job is just to keep the peace. And in a town this size, with just little old me to do it, in here is the best place for him. For everyone's sake.
The Lorrimor house is a small two-story town house with a short front garden and a large rear that is surrounded on three sides by hedgerow and lawn. There are good views to the front but it is not exactly a defensible position.
My God so he was working on something. Kendra says quietly. And the Whispering Way, I've heard of them - or at least rumours of them. They are as ancient as any organisation or bloodline in Ustalav. What on earth could they want? And what did my father get himself into, why didn't he tell me! she says, angry now.
Raj enters the house from the back, his scarred face set in grim lines. He walks through the house methodically memorizing the layout, doors, and the views out every window. Satisfied he understands the house, the Varisian proceeds into the study, nodding to those assembled. He kicks his pack beneath the sofa and throws his burnoose on top of it. Without preamble he says, "Miss Lorrimor, do you carry a weapon?"