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Come the dawn, Dr. Vitruvian is in the same position he was set down in - still staring at the ceiling, his face frozen in a look of limitless horror, and misery.
It's the most emotionally expressive you've ever seen him, actually.
Beside him, almost like a small but menacing guardian, sits his heavy black bag. If you are so bold as to peek inside, you have no idea what most of its contents are, nor what they are capable of...but he would, if only he were...here.
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Harlis prays deeply to Iomedae for guidance at morning prayers and afterwards visits each of the three wounded companions, granting restoration of their deeper injuries. "While I have used up the most powerful of my prayers also we have a task ahead and waiting another day would not be wise. If nothing else we should find if any of at the asylum are victims to be rescued." he says.
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The cold, alien glint resumes its residence behind Zephyrus's iceball-eyes, and he turns his head toward his benefactor, handily at bed-height as he is.
"I do not care to be in debt," He says in his eerily placid monotone. "Yet here I appear to be. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you," He looks Harlis up and down, looking as he does in his heavy cleric's armor like a Mendevian public-park wastebasket, reaches down into his bag, and pulls out what looks at first glance like a small tube of oil paint, and hands it to Harlis. "In the meantime, a token in case it should prove useful any time soon: Something to mitigate the liabilities inherent in all that armor, for a while."
Harlis prays deeply to Iomedae for guidance at morning prayers and afterwards visits each of the three wounded companions, granting restoration of their deeper injuries. "While I have used up the most powerful of my prayers also we have a task ahead and waiting another day would not be wise. If nothing else we should find if any of at the asylum are victims to be rescued." he says.
Enora nods.
”Good, then let us return to the asylum!!“
The team heads out, refreshed, back to the asylum.
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At the scene,
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At the entrance, two men of the watch stand posted.
"Hold a moment, visitors, there's been an incident, and this place is under investigation."
The guard considers this for a moment, then calls out to behind him.
Another man, bearing a badge of minor rank, comes over from speaking with another watchman.
"This here bunch would like to speak to you about the incident."
Enora also steps forward trying to see how things develop.
The, shall we say sergeant, stands near the group, in surprise and dutiful composure.
"Hang on, i've seen you visit our lighthouse establishment before.
What in Abadar's name, is your interest here? This is a crime scene."
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Harlis taps himself with the Hand of Glory as he follows the constables to the sergeant. He bows and begins to speak. "Greetings, I am Harlis of Iomedae also my companion here is Sele, Paladin of Milani and we also have a skilled doctor of many arts with us. We are here to provide any aid that we may including tending any wounded or laying to rest those that may lay unquiet. If you could give us some information of what has happened here so that we can provide the best aid possible it would be most appreciated."
"There is a matter of murder here, and four bodies have been found.
The staff is fine, physically speaking. Some of the orderlies are traumatized after discovering two of theirs were horribly killed.
The other staff and patients seem unharmed."
He thinks over giving more details, then figures it wouldn't matter much.
"Two other other bodies were found in the main hallway, ugly things wearing torn staff uniforms. The bodies of the staff were found bent and mutilated, stuffed into a set of old barrels."
"We would have the priestess perform the rites before their funeral, but i suppose you could do it, saves the families some time before saying their goodbyes."
"One patient murmered something about people who visited him just before the sound of fighting, snickering like mad. Which many residents here seem to be."
"Your guess is as good as mine. I was going to ask the priestess anyway if she knew anything about them. I can merely speculate, of course, but if those monsters posed as staff, there must be a particular reason for it. They could, after all, have posed as a local, if all they were after was a disguise."
Enora just nods and tries to follow Harlis and let him do his thing.
"Of course Harlis. We will follow you and your divine wisdom." she says to her fellow Halfling companion.
"Of course Harlis. We will follow you and your divine wisdom." she says to her fellow Halfling companion.
"We found only the bodies, and had made inquiries with the overseer and the other staff already. All claimed to be oblivious of the situation."
"You can come in and perform the rites. The dead have been laid under blankets, it truly is an unsettling sight."
"Aside from the obvious discoloration of being dead, we've found no traces that would suggest such."
You follow the sergeant and a watchman into the asylum, where in the dining hall lay two bodies covered in sheets.
"Those, yes, they've already been taken away. The priestess may be able to figure something out."
As Harlis pulls away the sheet of one of the dead orderlies, he sees a mutilated corpse, bearing wounds from ripping and biting. Also, the neck isn't in a natural angle, though given he'd been bent and folded up in a barrel, that's not too much of a surprise.
Enora speaks up.
”Would it be possible to talk to the witness that you were referring to so that we have some more context?“
"I don't see any harm in that. I'll wait for your friend to complete the rites for the departed, or if you want to go to the cell while he does so, be my guest."
Which, incidentally, happens to be the blind young man's cell.
Enora steps forward.
”Young man, I hope that you were not involved in the ambush yesterday?! We still need some answers from you regarding the feasters of the heart! We do not know if we can release you but we are here to listen as it seems that nobody else is willing to do the same! Please tell us what you know!“
A lone orderly escorts you, alongside the sergeant. With the keychain he opens Thomasz' cell.
Thomasz scoffs with a faint smile on his lips, his head hanging forward, as Enora speaks.
*Che..*
"Miss, and how would i do that? I am blind, bound and locked up. I have no cause nor means to have a hand in an attack on anyone within the building."
"My offer remains the same, you get me out, and i will share what i know. If not, then you are on your own."
”Can we cut open the skin so he can see?! Then heal him?“
The sergeant is distracted, or at least lost in thought so deeply, that the words of a proposed bargain of getting someone out of the institution passes him by.
”Doctor Zephyrus, any idea how to remove the skin over this man’s eyes?! Maybe seeing will make him more cooperative?!“ Enora asks.
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"As stated before, our young man here suffers from the phenomenon known as fleshwarping - normally a result of unfortunate encounters with rare, strange, and dangerous monsters, or possibly the Drow, for whom it is at once a science, an art, a weapon, and an implement of punishment. It would take highly advanced medicine that I'm afraid I've yet to master - assuming I ever do - or failing that, a powerful spiritual mage's prayers to restore, or possibly regenerate, his face to its proper form."
The Doctor turns to Harlis.
"Do you think you are capable of such...miracles?"
Thomasz chuckles.....
"will you also get me out of here? Prison with or without sight, is still prison."
Thomasz softly laughs.
"Whether i can see or not won't affect my care."
"I have no certainty still of freedom, but your words seem more sincere than many i've heard."
*leans his head back, then slowly straightened up proper, then sighs*
"Very well. If your goddess is your witness, then she'll keep tabs on a promise, i take it. I've been a captive all my life."
The group you’re looking for is called the Feasters of the Heart—I am the son of the high priest.
My mother comes to me in the night and speaks to me. She tells me tales of my father and the great things the Feasters of the Heart will do when Lissala deems their service adequate. She says their numbers are growing and soon I will be able to join them. When it’s safe. When the sun won’t hurt me and the light won’t blind my fragile eyes. My father has never come to see me, and I wonder whether my mother speaks the truth."
"You are not the first to ask about the Feasters of the Heart in recent months. I spoke with a woman with a honeyed voice a few weeks ago and told her much the same thing.
She promised to help me get free of my home so I could be with my parents but she never came back. I told her what my mother said of how new blood join the Feasters of the Heart: don a black robe and wait by the standing stone on the coast on the night of the new moon. Whether she did so and was led to my parents’ holy sanctum, I don’t know. I only know I never heard from her again, and I remained in my cell."
The sergeant is speaking with the orderly, a mere 10 feet out of the cell.