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"Introductions! Splendid!" the man cries out exuberantly, "my name is Deris Marlinchen, best of times to meet you! I thought I'd tend the grounds while I wait for my daughter, Cassiel, to finish her school day. You-you should see how she's grown! Those beautiful, beautiful long braids!"
"Salad-makers? he asks, puzzled, "you mean cooks?"
Caboose is pleased to see that the man is friendly and replies with equal cheerfulness.
"No not cooks. Nobody cooks salads. That would be silly. Everybody knows salads are grown. I think we are looking for a gardener, but one who only grows salads. Do you grow salads? Do you grow salads with onion rings in them? Those are the best kind."
A look of sudden realisation appears on Caboose's face.
"Oh, I know! Maybe the rings that the salad-maker has on his finger are ONION RINGS!"
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The shadow of a frown crosses Jarlaxle's face, before he regains his equilibrium.
Oh dear...
As tactfully as possible, Jarlaxle tries to humor the man.
"I am sure that we would all love to meet your daughter, but in the meantime, I don't suppose you happen to know a way... 'downstairs'... since you have been tending the grounds...?"
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"The basement?" Deris asks Jarlaxle, befuddled, "I don't know anything about that. Mrs. Heracks was down there the longest though. Perhaps she can help. Come on, I'll introduce you. She's in Headmistress Kiwu's old office now."
He begins to walk towards the collapsed buildings, and with no other clue, the pathfinders follow him. The ruined paths wind their way around black ponds and gray, shattered buildings. Powerful fragrances precede one roofless hall where a thin path meanders through an abundance of flower arrangements in wild bloom. Just off the path is an entrance to a small classroom.
Ten students dressed in checkered uniforms sit stiffly at wooden desks, staring straight ahead with their cloudy eyes. No one moves. At the front of the class, a conservatively dressed woman leans against the wall. Once Deris Marlinchen enters the room, the classroom becomes lively. The teacher silently gestures, its limbs moving in awkward, jerking motion, the students nod and silently whisper to one another, arms bending as if they have no joints. Not a single sound other than your own and those of Deris can be heard.
"Here she is, Mrs. Heracks," Deris Marlinchen says, gesturing towards the woman, wiping his matted hair off his face. By now you've noticed how Deris' clothes maybe once were fancy, suitable for a courtier.
The students and the teacher are not what they seem. They are spirits—wispy, see-through ghostly apparations.
The spirits harmless, merely a vision of an age past. Channeling positive energy would erase them, but for how long? You can't be sure.
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Jarlaxle raises an eyebrow.
"Fascinating."
He then turns to Jayori.
"The spirits are harmless, merely a vision of an age past."
Jarlaxle then turns to the man, and politely asks:
"Since she doesn't seem interested in being distracted from her class by strangers, perhaps you could ask what she knows?"
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The Vudran man frowns at Bertha's comment, and does look a little closer, but still notices nothing.
"Spirits you say?" He adds, at Jarlaxle's comment, still sounding a little dubious. "It does seem their movements are a little stilted and strangely harmonious." He adds, though still not making out what the half-elf is.
He finally gives up trying to spot what the others are seeing, and shrugs.
"If it is as you suggest, it would not be surprising give what occurred here. Though what you describe seems highly unusual... without a living source to give it life, if you will."
He glances towards Deris speculatively.
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Caboose notices the wispy nature of the "people" in the classroom but appears to be completely unperturbed. He walks right into the classroom and waves to "Mrs Heracks".
"Hello Mrs Heracks. We're on a tour and we are also looking for a salad-maker with two onion rings on his finger and we were hoping you could tell us how to get to his base. Ment."
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Jayori does not detect anything evil, which might be a surprise.
"Oh no no no, Cassiel is not attending Mrs. Heracks' class today!" Deris says joyously, "and yes, yes! Mrs Heracks, these gentlemen are looking for a passageway down to—to the cellar. ...What's that? ...A pond? ...Drain to an old necropolis? ...Mm, you sure know your way, Mrs. Heracks! ...You'll lead us there? ...Splendid!" While Deris speaks with the woman, all the students turn to stare at the pathfinders with soulless eyes. When he's done speaking with Mrs. Heracks, she begins to move towards the door with odd movements, and the students resume their silent studying.
"She told me she know the way down—yes," the man says, nodding his head and flashing a grin, "and you, my well-armored friend, lunchtime is long past, it's-it's your bed time soon. Soon."
Unless anyone objects, Deris and Mrs. Heracks start to move back to the yard. The rain runs through the woman, and at least by now it's crystal clear Mrs. Heracks is not quite so real.
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"Oh. I didn't hear it at all! But thank you, Mrs. Heracks. I'll be sure to do my homework."
Caboose follows Deris and the illusory Mrs Heracks out into the yard.
"I already had lunch? But I don't even remember what I had for it. Are you showing me to my bedroom? And when are you going to show us the way to the cellar of salads?"
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"Oh-hoh-hoh, your bedroom? So macabre!" Marlinchen chuckles at Michael, "don't you have a home?"
Deris seems disregard any answers he'd have from Michael, and instead turns and leads the team through the wrecked landscape to an approximately 30 feet wide pool of black water. Occasional bubbles percolate up at the center.
There's a fully-submerged, severed human arm jutting up from the blackened silt near the center of the pool.
"Well, here we are, according to Mrs. Heracks at least!" Deris exclaims, happy as ever, despite his shoes missing soles and clothes soaking wet. The woman, same as before, stands almost still and hasn't shown a single emotion or sign of sentience.
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"Bon sang!" Deris yelps and turns to Mrs. Heracks, "why, the entrance does seem soggy... what's that, Mis'ess? ...truly? It would seem, as I've given to understand, that the way to the cellar is indeed there, in the middle of the pool... beneath that arm, she says."
"Well, Cassiel sure is a go-getter! Studying so hard downstairs!" Deris Marlinchen is indisputably proud of her daughter.
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"She told me she know the way down—yes," the man says, nodding his head and flashing a grin, "and you, my well-armored friend, lunchtime is long past, it's-it's your bed time soon. Soon."
"Oh I just thought that since it was going to be my bed time soon, and I don't have a bed yet, I might be getting a bed room. For bed time."
Caboose looks at the water curiously.
"Who does the arm belong to? Does he know he lost it?"
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Jayori eyes the water dubiously for a moment.
"The path to spiritual enlightenment can take many forms." He says. "Even unpleasant ones."
"Perhaps it is best if everyone remain here."
With that, he will start gingerly into the pool to see if he can reach the supposed entryway. Trident in hand, he continues to probe the depths in front of him, in case there is a sudden drop-off.
"Ah! I now see the limb you spoke of." He calls back, shortly after stepping in. "It does not appear to be old enough to have originated during the disaster that claimed this place. Remain alert."
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Jayori advances easily towards the center of the pond, and it appears to be only around 4 feet deep, though still enough to ruin the paladin's wardrobe for the day. He can vaguely see the top of the arm, and is now close enough to interact with it.
So far no one, not even Deris Marlinchen, has chosen to act hostile.
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"It is most definitely just an arm." He calls back. "No sign of the rest of the unfortunate fellow. It appears to be stuck to something."
"And something to it." He adds, after a moment, at the sight of the spheres.
"Would any of you be so fortunate as to have a light source that would work beneath the surface?
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Bertha, unable to really do much other than get in the muck, takes some notes about the whole situation, and then stores her documents to be as water proof as possible. Then she puts her pack to the side, asks Betsy (her boar friend) to watch it, and climbs in to help Jayori.
I don't like the image of me being a pig in the muck, but what else is there to do?
"I have darkvision, perhaps it can help. When I signal, you pull the arm."
Bertha then holds her breath and dunks under the water to see what she can make of these white spheres.
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The white spheres appear to be some sort of eggs. The arm then again is gripping tightly to a rusted, metal handle at the bottom of the pond. While the eggs obscure most of the area around the handle, it appears to be a lid or a trapdoor of sorts.
"You should take your clothes to a drycleaning afterwards!" Deris advises, "lest you find delight in showing off like a dretch."
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Jayori has no immediate desire to disturb the arm or its mysterious white spheres, though he will detect evil on it just to be sure.
If he can see the handle with Sharien's light though, he will attempt to run a rope through it, or hook a grappling hook onto it. Then take said rope back to shore where everyone can haul on it.
Whether he can do any of this without disturbing the eggs is doubtful, but will give it a shot. =)