Creel's face is grim as he gathers up axe and sword for the trip to the church. If there are no answers to be found......
Making sure he has all his essentials in place (and his hair properly combed and stuffed under his hat), Vaghn bids Kendra a good day and blithely makes his way to meet with Father Grimburrow.
Madeline, having Smith making sure Tharnik is 'safe', checks him as best she can. Making him as comfortable as she can, given the circumstances.
She then hurries upstairs and explain the poor fellow's plight to Kendra. Madeline suggests Kendra quietly and surreptitiously seeks aid from the Priests perhaps in easing Tharnik's pains.
Madeline dons her coat and takes down her hat and wide belt with its fancy sword after having some quiet words with the Lady Kendra. Smith follows his Mistress', coming to stand by the front door with his hat held gently in both hands.
"Well...shall we be off for a jaunty round of the grounds?" Madeline asks casually her voice sounding cheerful, though there is some strain evident in her tone.
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You walk to the Church of Pharasma quietly - each of you deep in thought - as the sun starts to slowly cut through the fog of midmorning. All around you, birds in small flocks call out to one another, darting from bare trees to the ground as they do. Here and there, they retreat to the safety of the barren homes. While the skies are still grey, you can see bits of blue that are trying to poke through, but seem to be failing.
As you walk up the stone path that leads to the church, bells toll. All around you, the birds stop their singing. The bell tolls ten times. A few minutes later, the birds begin to once again chirp.
As you approach the church, you notice acolytes speaking quietly here and there. A few townsfolk - dressed in the traditional black garb of the church - linger about. A few have their children with them, all of them dressed nicely.
Father Grimburrow stands by the door, ushering people inside.
Vaghn waits until Grimburrow is not immediately occupied, then steps up to greet him.
"Good morning to you, Father!"
Rendel feels somewhat uncomfortable in such dreary surroundings and dour proceedings. Feeling the invader he let's the mroe comfortable adn mroe local Vaughn do the speaking for now.
Under his breath, mainly to Rendel. "We seem to have come just in time for a service, or a furneal."
Muttering to Creel he tries not to be heard. "With Pharasmans who can tell?"
Madeline sighs, absently adjusting the scarf beneath her hat as she continues to walk towards the congregation with the group.
"Should we partake? Or continue with our stole around 'The Grounds' and come back after?" She asks.
"Ah hells, I ought to have dressed nicer." Anyone who thought on that statement might have realized that Dortlin probably didn't own anything that might qualify for being described as nice. He glanced about as though looking for somewhere he might escape to. "Don't know why he didn't say nothin' 'bout this yesterday," he groused to himself.
Vaghn will file in and attend the service, hoping for a chance to speak with Father Grimburrow when it is finished.
Madeline will definitely hesitate,
"Um...Gentlemen? I thought our other matters were a tad more pressing...?" She asks quietly, "We seem to have a gruesome person lurking about the shadows at night, Tharnik....ill...Should not our investigations continue..?" She asks, even as she offers a light smile to Father Grimburrow,
Some what spoiled by all of her concerns...
Dortlin continued to stroll right on by the church in a fashion he hoped conveyed that he had other things to do and his not attending was a perfectly natural course. Sitting in on church service was not high on his list of favorite activities, even at the best of times, and now as he strolled up the road kitted for action could hardly be considered that.
"The good Father is likely to be occupied for a time. How will we put this morning to the best use? A return to that false space? A talk with the sheriff? Or a morning constitutional out to Harrowstone to see it in clean daylight?"
"Let's just get on to this Harrowstone place," Dortlin muttered out of the side of his mouth. The prospect of nearly having had to attend a worship service seemed to have put him out of sorts.
Rendel follows behind the others giving one last passing glance at the dour church goers before shaking his head sadly and moving on.
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Your trip to Harrowstone is relatively peaceful. Although the day is a perennial gray, with listless clouds hanging overhead, it remains relatively dry. In the distance, you can hear the occasional bird call out - "caw, caw..."
A sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
"Before entering into, onto the grounds themselves..." Madeline hesitates upon the gravel of the road/track. "Have we time for a walk around the perimeter?" She asks.
"Can't hurt. Shouldn't take that long."
Dortlin glanced around the area near the gates, looking for any signs of recent activity.
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The main entrance to Harrowstone, which lies on its southwestern corner, gives way to rough grasses, old stone walls, and a few of towers that silently stand guard over the ruins. While most of the perimeter is clear of debris or markings, you do note that the wall surrounding the complex is ruined along most of its eastern side. Toward the southeastern corner, this wall merges with a murky pond. The pond itself extends slightly beyond where the wall once stood.
The pond does not appear natural, but instead looks like some large, collapsed crater. At its widest point, it is nearly 300 ft from north to south. From east to west, it is some 100 ft or so. Its muddy banks display only animal tracks.
Otherwise, nothing about the perimeter strikes you.
Madeline upon her observations.
"Hmm...that does not bode well...."
"Place looks like somewhere bandits would hole up, I reckon that's ironical. Anyway. I'm thinkin' it's time to have a look inside."
Dortlin headed back toward the gate, he paused outside, he found his gaze drifting back and forth between the foundations and tops of the structures as he recalled both the mentions in the journal of strange etchings and the method of Lorrimor's demise. Collecting himself, he cracked his neck and reached out for the gate.
Shaking mud from her boots Madeline follows Dortlin, her hand hovering over her sword belted at her waist. She peers at the wall and structures holding the remains of the gate ajar.
Smith stands behind his Mistress...looking about but also looking slightly bored.
Rendel doesn't need tos tudy it carefully to guess what happened to the wall. "It appears someone used a rather powerful explosive on the wall." He says. "This is inline with the prison break we've researched. Though I can't help but wonder about what kind of magic was used that was strong enough to shatter this wall and yet simple enough to be smuggled inside a prison?"
Madeline frowns.... and her lips purse in a 'mue'.
"If...that is...as you say..." Her eyes trace across the line of the wall taking note of the edges and the lay of the masonry about the gap. "Then...why aren't there more stones scattered farther away?' She peers about, outwards towards the nearby treeline.
"No...I think it more natural subsidence, the land here is soft and rich for farming. Though, if there is a basement, I fear our clothes might need a good laundering afterwards..." She offers a grin as she tries to add some brevity to their endeavors.
Madeline frowns.... and her lips purse in a 'mue'.
"If...that is...as you say..." Her eyes trace across the line of the wall taking note of the edges and the lay of the masonry about the gap. "Then...why aren't there more stones scattered farther away?' She peers about, outwards towards the nearby treeline.
"Do you really think such good working stone would be left lying about with the town nearby? However I am willing to admit it's a sinkhole that has appeared. It would make sense of the fire weakened any foundations under the prison."
Madeline nods and takes Rendel's ideas 'on board', though still looking at the gates and the space the group is contemplating passing through.
"I agree it does look like something collapsed below. Have to take care if we look down stairs. We'll be below that water and would not want to accidently open a door into a flooded room."
"Well fools and angels as they say. Time to go in."
Creel pushes the gate open and walks in.
"What an ungly building. I am suprised that the townsfolk haven't pulled it down and put the stone to better use."
Madeline nods at Creel's words, slowly and calmly draws her sword and follows him into the grounds.
Smith simply walks silently behind his Mistress.
Vaghn is uncharacteristically silent as he warily eyes the prison's walls. He may not believe that his friend and mentor had actually been killed by unstable masonry, but that certainly does not preclude such a fate for himself and his current companions. He carefully eyes each structure as they approach, looking for signs of structural weakness.
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As you look toward the main gate, you realize a lot of this structure lacks stability. The gargoyles that litter the wall stare down menacingly, but also stand atop the strongest parts of the wall, occupying corners of the wall that look to be the strongest.
As you pass through the main gate, you pass under a wooden platform that you are all but sure is very, very unsafe.
A sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
As you examine the rest of the structure - pushing through the old, rusty gates - the age and decay of the place washes over you. In fact, for a moment, time seems to slip back, coming to a sudden halt.
Rendel refuses to be dragged into a flashback unless he has narrative control.
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Creel stands resolute as the phantom flames sweep past.
In a flat matter-of-fact voice "This is a very bad place. It will need to be torn down."