Cade misses the creature, but Colvyn's arrow manages to strike home. The creature is in tatters and looks to be in rough shape.
The creature murmus something that Cade and Rig cannot quite make out. But it shrinks back as Cade's rapier flashes, and it steps back, trying to duck away under Rig and Cade's weapons. But it is not fast enough and Cade and Rig both sense an opportunity!
Round 5 Initiative:
Block 1: Attic Whisperer (-42)
Block 2: Cade, Colvyn (silent), Floredana (silent), Kargas (-7, down), Rig
Drawing on the last of the divine energy in her holy symbol, she releases a final blast of light into the room. How much more can it take?!
________
The creature seems somehow distracted for a moment and Rig presses his attack.
As it moves, he moves to keep it from getting closer to Kargas.
You would think something that dead would not worry about dying again...ok that thing needs to be put down...
Cade and Rig both slash uselessly at the little creature as it skitters away. Rig chases the creature towards the corner, but the target is too small and nimble.
Floredana sends another pulse of energy into the room, and the creature seems to burn with white flames once again!
Round 6 Initiative:
Block 1: Attic Whisperer (-44)
Block 2: Cade, Colvyn (silent), Floredana (silent), Kargas (-7, down), Rig
Cade sees that the creature is trying to skirt around us and towards the door. He could charge straight ahead but that would leave himself open and still give this creature a means of escape.
You f+$%ed Kargas up and are not getting away.
...can anyone get Kargas some healing?
Colvyn maneuvers for position and takes another shot at the attic whisperer.
Colvyn's shot strikes the jumble of debris that is the Attic Whisperer dead center, and the creature falls apart, bits of detritus tumbling to the floor, until the bizarre bird skull clatters to the floor and rolls into the middle of the room.
An examination of the room reveals little of interest. The papers scattered around seem to be more insane writings and sketches based on the worship of Pazuzu. One however, was noted to be magical earlier, and it turns out to be a magical scroll that will call into being a fiendish winged constrictor snake for a short time.
The item held by the remains is a small stuffed toy dog, that you can tell is reddish in colour despite the dirt and dust covering it. Much as Das Korvut's dogs are at the Red Dog Smithy.
After several minutes, Kargas wakes up. He is still quite tired, but otherwise healthy. Around the same time, Colvyn and Floredana find themselves able to speak again.
After making sure Kargas is ok, Flo slowly picks up the stuffed dog toy. "Is... Is this what happened to Das's boy?" she asks sullenly. "We should take it back to him. What do we tell him?"
While the party talks it over, Flo does her best to pick up any human bones that would match a child.
"Ugh, my mouth tastes like dust and rotten meat, and the dreams were...well, harrumph." Kargas carefully hauls himself to his feet, trying to hide how winded even that simple task left him.
"Hey Flor, is that the smith's boy? Died and become a spirit? Can you, uh, fix him...so he moves on?" After a long moment of hesitation the half-orc wearily helps search for remains. As he picks through the detritus he frowns in concentration, working through an idea out loud. "Didn't Das say he saw his son walking around town? I wasn't here for much of the fight-- Kargas' face flushes in embarrassed anger, "--but it just looks like a pile of junk with a ghost in it to me. Did it ever take on the boy's appearance?"
"...Did it ever take on the boy's appearance?"
Rig offers his hand to help Kargas up. "Is his soul at rest now? The boy?" He picks up the scroll, looks it over, and sticks it his backpack.
"If it hasn't moved on yet, it should once Das buries the remains. I didn't notice any change in appearance but this toy leads me to believe it couldn't have been anyone else..."
________
Kargas makes a warding gesture at the statue, even as he pockets the gems. "Wish I'd brought a sledgehammer..." the half-orc mutters, considering knocking it off the pedestal but not certain that would break it--or if he wanted to risk drawing that sort of attention.
Looking at the gems, Colvyn turns to Kargas. "I also wish you'd brought a sledgehammer. My tools are too delicate for that kind of work."
"We'll pick up a crowbar in town." Rig really doesn't like that statue and is ready to be out of this creepy place.
Everyone feels better after emerging back into the daylight of the dreary autumn day. Gingerly carrying the remains of Simon Korvut, the group carefully makes their way down the cliffs and back to the town.
The group finds Das Korvut sitting by the cliff edge again, looking out over the bay at Chopper's Island.
"Ah, you're back," Das mumbles. "I thought I saw you coming back through the mist. Did you..." Das looks at the group with bleary eyes.
When the group reveals that they have recovered Simon's remains, and shows him the toy dog, Das squeezes his eyes hut, trying to hold back tears.
"Yes, that's it... that's his." Das nods dejectedly. "Well, now I know. I know. I always..." he shakes his head, speechless for a moment.
He sighs, and takes the red stuffed dog, squeezing it.
"I don't know how to thank you. But I know you adventurers are always in need of good gear. If there's anything in my shop you need, its yours. If it's something I don't already have, I could make it for you. Call it store credit, if you like."
Das gets up and prepares to head home. "I think I'd rather be alone now. But I'll make arrangements with my workers. If there's anything you need, just speak to them."
I can't imagine what he must be feeling right now. Flo stands silently as Das leaves to grapple with his emotions. What could I even have said in the face of such loss?
"...Store credit is great! I do hope this gives him the closure he needs so his wounds can heal. How are you all doing? I'm a little shaken up from all that's happened, but I think I'm ok. Is there anything else we want to get done today?"
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Rig starts to stay something, but realizes that there really isn't anything he can say that will help with this man's grief. Sometimes, silence is best.
"I don't know about you, Flo, but I could use a drink after that."
"I agree Rig, let's talk it over with some lunch and drink. We can plan our next steps at the Rusty Dragon," Flo says, nodding her head a little. Anything to distract from that nightmare. Hope I can even manage to get to sleep tonight.
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"Well, you lot look like you could use a drink," says Ameiko as the group trudges back into the inn.
"Considering the weather, maybe some mulled wine? Or I can make tea if it's too early?"
She begins to pour a round for everyone.
"You look rather glum. Everyone all right?" she asks.
"Oh, Cade," calls out Bethana from the Kitchen. "A letter came for you, from your Aunt Sheila in Magnimar." She comes out into the dining room holding a folded piece of parchment with a wax seal.
Cade looks at it for a few moments, and then announces he has to leave on family business. He bids his farewells and goes to gather his things before riding off on Bellum.
After the group has a round of drinks and Cade leaves for Magnimar, Father Zantus arrives.
"I just came from Das Korvut's. I heard about your expedition and went to look in on him."
"He's in a bad way, but at least he is finally able to grieve properly. Finding closure can be difficult sometimes, especially with a stubborn man like Das. But now the process can begin. I'm sure that he'll be all right soon enough."
"We'll arrange for a burial in a day or two."
"I was told his spirit had become an attic whisperer. Those are very rare. If his remains are buried properly we shouldn't have to worry about the spirit any longer. Attic whisperers are often capable of creating illusions, so perhaps that's how Das thought he was seeing his son."
"You should know... er..." Father Zantus looks a little uncomfortable. "Well, since Jervis Stoot died, title to the island passed to the town council. But because of the... ah... unpleasantness... nobody wants to touch the island. I'm sure the council would be pleased to sell it to you for a very reasonable price. If you are interested, that is. Since you seem to have a handle on dealing with the issues that linger there."
Snorting derisively, Kargas pulls out a chair and takes a seat. "Weren't just the whisperer thing, there were demon statues too. Why would anyone buy a crumbling wreck of an island with demon shrines in it?!" Barely suppressing a shudder, the half-orc hunched his shoulders and falls into a grumpy silence.
"I admit that the things you found might make it less appealing rather than more. But those things ought to be cleansed, and having someone actually in charge of the place might expedite that a little."
"It is also hard to get to, of course. But it's a fairly big property nonetheless. And as far as I know you're the only ones who have even been over there in many years."
Father Zantus smiles.
"Of course, it's not as if I get anything from the sale. Or the church for that matter."
"I think Lord Scarnetti wanted to build a castle on it a while back. But hauling stone up those cliffs would cost a fortune. When he couldn't get the town council to help pay for it he gave up on the idea." Ameiko chuckles.
"That was before Stoot moved over there."
Rig seems to ponder the idea for a minute or two. "I dunno, Kargas. Might be nice to have a little piece of land to call home. Clear out the statuary, get a couple of proper blessings, might not make a bad place." He seems in a much better mood after a little of Ameiko's mulled wine.
"The wine, please, Ameiko," Flo says as she plummets into a chair. She closes her eyes and pushes the heels of her palms into them for a moment before noticing the Father. "Father Zantus! I am glad to hear that proper disposal of the remains will likely lift the blight upon them. As to the island, I'm with Rig, although I do hear what you're saying Kargas. Father, thank you for your suggestion. We will have to speak amongst ourselves and learn more details before making a final decision."
Once the wine starts working its magic and conversation distracts her from their little foray into the island, Flo's mood quickly improves. "Now that it is just the four of us, should we look for someone to join us?" she asks the group, scanning the Rusty Dragon's patrons. May Desna grace us with a fateful encounter with a willing traveler!
"S'too bad about Laurana, I kinda liked the magical babble even if it mostly didn't make sense," Kargas offers a small, grateful smile to Ameiko as she hands him a mug of mulled wine and mumbles his thanks. "Wizards are pretty rare though, right? Where'd we find another one who wants to crawl around in ghostly hovels and or dusty tunnels full of goblins and fiends?"
Clearing his throat, the half-orc leans forward conspiratorially. "Hey, uh, if anyone asks...I definitely didn't spend the whole ghost fight asleep, right?"
The rest of the day passes quietly, with the group exchanging ideas about their plans and stories of their past.
As afternoon passes into evening, the quet day is interrupted by a hubbub outside. Mayor Deverin and Constable Hemolock are both making their way towards the Rusty Dragon, in the company of several guardsmen and a few people you don't recognize. They stride in and head over to the group.
"Well, hello, my friends," Mayor Deverin says warmly yet formally. "I heard about your adventure on the island. I'm glad to hear that the last victim of the Chopper has been accounted for and laid to rest. Poor Simon. It seems like we will never be free of that horrible man's memory. But perhaps now we can finally move on."
"But we're not here because of that. There's been a... development. Actually, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that the Constable arrived with our reinforcements from Magnimar this afternoon."
"Good news, yes. Wonderful news, no. Not hardly," says Constable Hemlock with a frown. He shakes his head.
"Magnimar sent us twenty men. Twenty! All the begging and pleading and that was all I could get out of them. It more than doubles the official size of the guard, but if the goblins come in force it won't be nearly enough."
Mayor Deverin nods.
"While it will be an important boost, the Constable and I agree that it is not enough to fend off a real goblin attack from multiple tribes. We will have no choice but to call out the militia; with Lord Lonjiku gone I think I can persuade Lord Valdemar to agree to it. But the militia are volunteers and not trained soldiers."
"Which makes the other news I have disconcerting. Our Ranger Shalelu has been scouting the goblin tribes, trying to find out what is going on. We have finally heard from her. Usually she sends her messages by messenger bird but this time the message was delivered by this man here."
The mayor indicates a lean-looking well-dressed man that the group doesn't recognize.
"Allow me to introduce Kellek Zaderan. Kellek, these are the group of adventurers I told you about; they used to be called 'The Sandpoint Six' though I see two seats seem to be vacant... So perhaps you could tell the Sandpoint Four here just how you came to deliver this message."
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The man is young, and slight of build with fine bronze features and almond eyes the color of frozen lakes. His hair is long, and black, and cascades down his back. He sports a youth's goatee below his lip. He is dressed in midnight blue scholar's robes.
"Yes, I do recall one or two of the faces from the troubles of not a fortnight past--during the Swallowtail Festival." Kellek says, his strange eyes fixing upon Kargas in particular. "Your defense of the town was most commendable. As to my own circumstances today all I can say is there was a caravan attack on the road between what you locals call the Nettlewood and Mosswood. The attackers were a large band of goblin warriors. There was an elf woman there too--a ranger, Shalelu was the name she gave. She held to her breast a bird with a coded message tied to its leg. The bird had been taken by a goblin's arrow and the woman passed the message to me. She said I should bring it hence. And so I have come." He pulls the missive from a satchel slung from his shoulder and unrolls it upon the bar.
Out too comes a shapeless wide-brimmed hat, the same night sky color as his robes, with a small arrow shot through the crown. He looks disparagingly at the thing before carefully pulling the arrow out by the space just behind its barbed tip.
"You can never be too careful with goblin quarrels. Some tribes use poison." Kellek says sagely.
"Good evening to you, Mayor and Constable Hemlock! It is unfortunate that we didn't receive nearly enough people, but twenty is better than none, I suppose," Flo says in response to the familiar faces.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Kellek, though I wish it were under different circumstances. A looming goblin assault makes for a truly ominous times," she comments, before looking the message over.
________
"Yeah I'm pretty hard to forget," Kargas responds with exaggerated casualness, oblivious to the newcomer's stare. He tries to peer over Flor's shoulder at the note, frowning in concentration as he sounds out the words.
Giving up after a moment, the half-orc turns back to Kellek. "Did the caravan make it? How many goblins were there? Did you see a weird woman with a messed up arm anywhere?"
Noting Kargas's pained expression Kellek says "I did try to interpret it using the usual methods: transposition, steganography, monoalphabetic substitution, alas nothing. It might be a variance on Vigenère's Method--but then we would have to know Shalelu's key. You wouldn't know her religion, or birthday would you?"
He waits for a reply.
....
"As for your other questions doubtful, too many for the caravan to handle, and a woman with a what?"