Valachi and Kendra walk back to the house, with Delia and Father in tow. Once there, Kendra puts on a pot of tea, and waits for the others to return.
Ember is able to find Father Grimburrow at the temple, as would be expected. On her arrival she is conducted directly into his study in order to meet with him. He listens to the story laid out by Ember without any interruption or comment until the end.
"To imagine that such a place, so rife with foul enchantments and the undead lay so close to our very doorstep. It is shameful. Disgraceful. I had thought, as my predecessors had also held, that the rumours about Harrowstone were just that. The kind of stories that attach themselves to every ramshackle building that lies just beyond what is presently used. I thought that the fact it was a prison had just encouraged the story tellers that much more. But it's all true..."
He holds his wrinkled head in his hands a moment, trying to process the enormity of the mistake. "I shall have to send a letter, and explain to our elders what has been discovered, and explain why I never chose to investigate before now. But that does not concern you, child. If there is any blame to bear, I will carry it."
"As for the prisoners, no, I'm afraid that I am aware of no other resource specifically that would hold details of them or their crimes. Such things are not wide spread either. Certainly records would exist where the men were tried, but that would entail travelling over most of Ustalav, as no central repository exists. No, your best chance to find the information would be local libraries. Our own library here is the most extensive in the area, and has numerous texts on local matters, but you already spent an extended period there and did not find what you were looking for. Town Hall may hold records, though I do not know what state of preservation or organization those records might be in; the council does not allow access frequently. If that fails, you could try The Unfurling Scroll. Master Ghoroven did not live in Ravengro at the time of the fire, but he does keep an extensive library. I believe he charges for its use, but the expense may be worth it."
"Oh, I was thinking, Master Ghoroven was one of the few people old enough to remember such events, but he did not live here. However, one person did. Jorva, the blacksmith has lived here near a hundred years. It may be a tall order for her to remember specific details, but if you exhaust all other resources..."
"Thank you for the information, Father. I will try to follow up these leads as best I can, although it will have to wait until after the meeting today."
"I would not blame yourself overmuch for being unaware of the hauntings at Harrowstone. If Vesorianna is correct, then her husband, the Warden, kept the haunts there from troubling the town. After this other group did something there to the Warden's spirit, and murdered Professor Lorrimor, that released the haunts to trouble the area."
After her talk with Father Grimburrow, Ember returns to Kendra's house until it is time to go to the meeting.
Valachi makes a few halted attempts to begin conversation with Kendra, before finally blurting out "You were quiet at the meeting and walk back. What are you thinking?"
"I am worried. I've lived here 15 years, and I've never seen the people reacting as they have been lately. I am afraid that their suspiciousness may make them resist accepting your help, or even mine. 15 years may seem like a long time, but I am still essentially viewed as an outsider."
"This burn has me disparring as well," she places a hand on her thigh, where the brand burned through and left her marked like a prisoner. "Why didn't Ember's healing erase it? Will it fade eventually? What if I am marked forever? What will my husband think when he sees it, whomever he may be..."
"I have enough to cover the difference in cost, but no much more. It seems we shall have to skip the oils that the wizard was going to prepare for us until a later time then."
Valachi completely misses the rhetorical nature of the question, turning red with embarrassment. "You, uh... have a husband? And don't know his name?" His look is genuinely confused. The rushing in his ears brings any logical thought to a halt.
How did I miss that she was married??!?
Kendra looks at Valachi with an odd look on her face, and then goes red as she realizes his miscomprehension. "No, I um, uh... No. I'm not married; I was just thinking that the next one to see it might be my husband on our wedding night. I was just afraid of what he would think. His new wife, branded like a criminal, in a place no one but him should see..."
When crafted, they are only twice as expensive as a magic weapon oil. Plus it stacks with actual magic weapons and it can be applied to 10 pieces of ammunition. Much better than 1 melee weapon. Just my thoughts. If everyone else disagrees, ill just make some for myself and press on.
Since we've got so many casters let me reduce to 2 applications and then I won't need to borrow cash.
I'll pick to 20 bolts while we are out as well.
[B]"Next stop, Allistar?"[/.b]
Kendra looks at Valachi with an odd look on her face, and then goes red as she realizes his miscomprehension. "No, I um, uh... No. I'm not married; I was just thinking that the next one to see it might be my husband on our wedding night. I was just afraid of what he would think. His new wife, branded like a criminal, in a place no one but him should see..."
"Huh?" Valachi stares, mouth agape, then as it begins to make sense, he lets out a big sigh of relief. "Oh, phew! Desna laughs!", he says, showing obvious relief. But then immediately gaffes again. "If I were your husband, I wouldn't care if you were branded or where. You're so pretty, I'd not even notice." He pauses suddenly, aware late of his forwardness. "I...I... um..." The embarrasment returns.
"Yes, lets proceed."
Kendra's red deepens at Valachi's comments and she breathes out a quiet reply in a mousy voice, "Thank you. I... You're very kind to say that Valachi."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ried pays for his ingredients, enough for two applications of Ghost Salts (180 gp). Outside, Jorfa's forge can be seen just two doors down back along the square, so a quick step back is taken to pop in and pick up some crossbow bolts.
The stout dwarf proprietress, Jorfa, is sitting at a grinding wheel, sharpening a blade as you walk in. She lifts the blade free of the wheel when she sees you, ending the stream of sparks that were shooting along the floor. She sells you the bolts (18 sp), offering the discount without being asked.
"Are you some of the folks staying with Ms. Lorrimor? Could you tell the dark haired fellow, ah, 'Vilitchi', that I've finished his order a bit early? Haven't had nearly as many orders lately, so things were slow enough to let me get it done ahead of schedule. Thanks."
You are able to proceed onto the Unfurled Scroll after that. The elderly man who runs the shop has three young children seated in old school chairs when you arrive, and appears to be trying to teach them the basics of reading magic. A few words written in magical script are carved into the mantle, and he has the kids trying to decipher it. A quick casting of your own shows it to read, 'Knowledge is the true path to power.'
When he sees you, the man excuses himself from his charges, and moves behind his counter. He pulls out a half dozen small leather bladders, each stoppered with a cork and wax. "Hello, good morning. I was told I should expect you soon. Mr. Adrisant's letter said you'd be around quickly. I've fashioned the oils as requested, and the balance has been paid; is there anything else I can get for you right now?"
He has all the supplies you might need for your spellbook, and will sell to you at a 10% discount.
She didn't tell me to bugger off...
Awkwardly torn between joy and confusion, Valachi returns a rueful smile. "Well, you are, but I shouldn't have been so forward. It's not my place to say such things... I, um... that is, unless you want me to."
She ponders Valachi's words for a moment, giving herself time for her colour to fade. At last she responds, "Valachi, I value your company. Your frankness is part of why your presence is comforting I think. However, my mind is still roiling with a thousand emotions, and I do not think I have yet come to grips with my father's passing. I don't feel prepared to deal with all of the things I am feeling now. And so, I think I would ask you to continue being a comforting presence to me for now, but perhaps leave the question of courting until later. I think I would welcome the opportunity to courted by such a brave man, but I confess, I feel very confused at present."
Valachi stands still for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he just nods, silently, then looks about for a minor chore to distract the situation.
"Next time you write to the good Mr. Adrisant, be sure to pass on our thanks! Got everything you need, Alistair?"
If there's nothing else, Ried escorts Alistair back to the house.
"Yes, I seem to have everything I need." "I would like to return at some time when matters are not quite so pressing. I would very much enjoy discussing matters of the art with you."
Alistair nods to Ried signaling he is prepared to depart.
The old mage smiles at Alistair, "Oh, are you a practitioner as well? Wonderful! I'd love a chance to talk. I've had few to talk to about my teaching since Petro's passing; may Pharasma judge him well. I look forward to the opportunity, young man."
The wizard packs up your supplies into bag and wishes you well on your way. The walk back to the Lorrimor home is quick and uneventful. After arriving there, you let Valachi know about his hammer and then have a bit of time to spend starting to transcribe a few of the spells you have deciphered thus far into your spellbook.
"Hey uh, Alistair, don't forget if there are any spells left over in that book that you're not interested in, holler at me. I may be able to turn them into extract formulas."
Ried looks around, "Valachi ... where is everyone?"
Valachi appears vaguely distracted. "Around, I think."
"No, no ... actually, no one is around. Just you and ... nevermind. Kendra, where is everyone?"
Delia calls out from the study, "Just because no one rushes to greet you at the door, does not mean we are not present. We've been waiting for you two to get back from shopping."
Agnar comes in from out back at the sound of voices. "I was out back."
With a dissapointed sign, Alistair closes his books, and begins to stow them and his material away. "Well, as it appears our presence has been anticipated, what events require our presence, or are we simply ready to return to the prison?"
"There is a town meeting we must attend first before returning to Harowstone," Ember says, returning from Father Grimburrow's.
"And your patron would like to hear from you, Mister Ried."
"Gaaah ... we've barely scratched the surface and they want a report? Armchair adventurers. Alright, lead me there quickly, let's get this over with."
"A town meeting? Have we become involved in city politics? Have we broken any laws? I was under the impression that the town supported our investigations here? Also, who is this sponsor Ried?"
Kendra responds to Alistair's questions, "In small towns, everything becomes town business very quickly. Ravengro still claims ownership and governance over the ruin of Harrowstone prison, and the strange events of late havebeen affecting their town. Their interest was inevitable, and their insistence on being in charge... predictable. Most of those gathered here remain to help because they were the friends of my father. The council had asked one of the Sheriff's deputies, Riff, to accompany us into the prison in order to witness what we discovered. Mr. Ried was brought on by councilman Muricar after deputy Riff declined to return with us into Harrowstone on our second visit."
"Ried as we will be meeting Gharen at the town meeting anyway, we could just head to the hall a touch early in order for you to confirm our report. I believe that is all he wanted. He has said that if you do agree that what Ember reported was accurate, he will dispense the funds promised for tracing the town's supernatural troubles to the prison."
"Ah, fabulous. Thank you so much, Miss Ember, for covering that so eloquently. I could add the details I found on the individual prisoners if they so desire and my theory on the connection to these objects. Don't know if that will help ease them or make them more resteless. You mentioned a blacksmith? Did anyone interview her?"
"Since we do not know the connections ourselves, I do not think that telling them of our speculations would be of any help. And the blacksmith is yet unspoken too because we lack time before the meeting. Which we should be going to soon," Ember says.
"Then let's go," Valachi says, gruffly.
Once everyone is assembled, you prepare for going out, putting on cloaks and boots. The walk to the town hall is a short one, as it sits just up the road from Kendra's home on the village square.
You arrive quite early, as you intended; the meeting does not start for another half an hour, and no one else appears to be going in. The town hall is a squarish building with a steeply sloped roof, as most buildings in Ustalav tend to have in order to keep off the heavy snows. This building has a much more detailed facade than most however, either to show the importance of the building, or as a show of local workmanship and pride. Wide double doors of polished white oak, banded with polishes brass, stand on the front of the structure.
Kendra moves to the door and knocks, but no answer is heard. She tries the handle and the door swings freely; it was not locked. A voice calls out immediately, "Private council! Town folk are welcome at noon."
Kendra allows the door to swing open, granting you a view of the interior. The building is just one large room, with rows of benches facing a slightly raised stage at the far end of the hall. The town's four council members are seated on high backed chairs arranged in a circle on the stage.
When no one looks up to see who stands in the door, she politely clears her throat. Four annoyed faces swing to look at the door, and the annoyed looks vanish as they see the group standing in the entryway.
Gharen jumps to his feet and shouts, "Ried! There you are. Join me a moment, please!" He is smiling, and seems genuinely happy to see his old friend.
Councilwoman Mirta Straelock stands more slowly and walks to the edge of the stage, beckoning the group to approach closer. Once the group has entered the building, and closed the door behind them she begins. "Thank you for coming, all of you. Have you any questions of us before the council meeting? Our intention is to inform the townsfolk of what seems to be going on, in broad terms of course, and what we are doing to try to deal with the matter. We will introduce your team as our instruments in this, and try to assuage any worries that might be expressed. We will however try to keep questions to a minimum and be circumspect in what we share. There is no need to cause undo worry. Do you have any questions?"
Gharen, old friend ... pleased to see you." Ried extends his hand to be shaken pulling his companion in close. In a much lower voice, "We don't have much more than theories at this point ... we need another foray to test them. We're right on the cusp of solving this, I can feel it. But, we really don't want to panic anyone ... it's not pretty in there, Gharen." He pulls back, smiling.
To the greater council, "Are you fielding the questions from the citizens or expecting us too? Tell them we're close to ending this and that all is well under control."
Valachi eyes the surrounding hall with an ill-disguised eye of suspicion. You can almost see his hackles raised.
I don't like this place. Too... confined.
Gharen invites Ried to go for a quick little walk, a transparent, but polite way of getting him away from his coexplorers while he gives his report. Once outside in the light rain he begins walking no direction in particular and starts questioning Ried.
"The Priestess told us that you encountered a ghost; a polite one that held discourse with you and told you what was going on in there. Is that correct? And this polite and informative spectre said that there were five chief spirits behind the supernatural happenings in Harrowstone and Ravengro?"
"The Pharasman also said that one of these five is trying to spell out the name of this spirit, as she is apperantly on our side and trying to hold the ghosts within the prison. All right so far?"
"This is very convenient and elaborate exposition, wouldn't you agree? Now, the real question is whether it is true or she is part of the trap. If she is a part of it, then she might be trying to divert you with meaningless tasks so they can accomplish whatever it is they are really after. If she is on our side, then we must be really, very lucky; don't you agree?"
"What do you make if your comrades? Can they be trusted? And do they have the town's best interests in mind?"
In response to Ried's question the council says, "We will field the questions, and try and keep the information divulged to a minimum. We do not want to contribute to any feeling of panic. We hope that this issue will be resolved quickly enough that no one will have time to consider things too much, and do anything rash."
"We would like you all to be present for the meeting, that we might present you to them as champions on their side. We hope that this will help to dull any animosity towards you, as well as give them a feeling that issues are well in hand, and being taken care of by experts. Of course, whether you are experts or not, showing confidence in yourselves in this role would not go amiss."
"Sounds right, she wasn't quite polite and informative. She was non-hostile and seemed invested. I confirmed the five prisoners through independent research, and we found some items that I've surmised may be linked. One of them, an axe, I'm certain is linked."
"The Splatterman, I believe ... consistent with his real life profile of using people's names to gain some sort of power over them and kill them. Forgive me, I'm quoting from memory ... don't have my notes with me, but I believe I'm on target with that."
"She's dead or she's an illusion. Certainly the dead can dissemble and she could be part of some elaborate scheme. We'll keep it in mind, but for now we need to start hunting the rest of the dungeon. And Gharen, if you want to stop us from being diverted ... get the council to let us explore and let the council handle the people. You hired me to raid this "tomb" and help solve this problem, not get involved in local politics. You guys cover us, don't use us. Let us go back in now and trust that we'll hammer this out."
"Good group of folks. The Pharasman is as dedicatedas any to putting these souls to rest. The summoner is bright if a bit touchy about things. Her creature is very interesting but seems to care for her immensely. I'm concerned that it probably rates her safety over the mission, so I'll have to keep that calculated as we move on. The wizard seems cowardly in discussion, but held his own in combat. He may be smarter than me, so his mind is key for problem-solving. The other two are barely above animals in intellect, but ruthless in battle. The changer has gone all doe-eyed over the late professor's daughter. Hope that doesn't get in the way of his baser side when we need him in a pinch. That said, they're all on board ... you've been in politics too long ... seeing knives in the dark at every turn. You should grab a sword and come head back in with us." Ried smiles broadly. "It'd be like old times!"
To the council: "Just be quick about it and let us get back into Harrowstone. We're just churning butter here."
"Would that I could old friend, but my peers on the council would never stand for it, and I'm afraid my sword arm might be a bit rusty these days. There is very little worth dueling over here, and it's not how things are done amongst peasants anyway. Killing that stirge the other night was exhilarating, I must say though. Thrusting into flesh, drawing blood, and ending another enemy of mankind... damn I miss the old days."
"Speaking of which, as I told you, this..." he pats the blade on his hip, "is my old blade. You probably recognize it from back in our day, it's the same one. As I was saying the other night, if I'd known I was going to be drawing steel that even, I'd have worn one of my others. The magic in this old girl is not nearly so potent as others I acquired later on, but I have very fond memories of it. And of course, the filigree matched that doublet I was wearing so well, it was the perfect excuse to bring it out again. Must be 15 years since its drawn blood! I bet that will get the old magic flowing again."
He takes off the baldric and scabbard on which the blade rests, "I'd like you to take it with you. Put it to use in there, and maybe kill a few of those nasties with it, eh? You'll have something of me to help you out at least! I'll get it back when this is all over and done with. Come, let's head back inside; the meeting's likely to start soon."
"Very well. If one of you would be so kind as to open the doors, we can begin as soon as the townsfolk are assembled.
While the townspeople begin to filter in and take seats on the many benches, Gharen and Ried return. Gharen goes to one of the tables on the stage and picks up a small lockbox. Turning the key, he pulls out a pouch of coins, which he hands to to Ried.
"For your team, to divide as you see fit. 80 platinum; 100 gold for each of your band's original members, as agreed." After returning to the table and setting down the box, he picks up a finely wrought rapier and buckles it on over his gentleman's garb. The handle sparkles, and the wire wrapping the handle appears to be purely gold. He invites you all onto the stage as guests of the council, and enough chairs are brought up to seat everyone, half to each side of the council's own seats, which sit at the center of the stage just behind a pulpit.
The town hall begins to fill, and people soon fill up the benches. More townsfolk keep coming, and soon the standing room is taken up as well, with townsfolk standing in the entryway with the doors propped open, so that they too might hear what is going to be said here. Sheriff Caeler comes in, and takes up a spot near the foot of the stage. He's off to one side so as not to attract attention, but where he can see everything as well.
When it seems no one else is going to be able to approach, Councilman Heathmount stands and moves to the pulpit to speak. It is not yet even 12.
"Friends and neighbors, thank you for coming. I, and my fellow members of you town council, have called this town assembly to discuss recent events about town that you may have heard of, and that have clearly caused some of you concern. I am not here to deny that there are issues that have caused concern, or to tell you that your worrying is not necessary. However, I can tell you that everything that can be done to help deal with these strange events is being done by this council, and that we have every confidence that they will be resolved soon."
"You may have heard about the walking dead that emerged in the restlands. That did indeed happen. Luckily, there were a few present when this occurred, and the matter was able to be settled without loss of life, and without damage to the town. The restlands are now being watched closely by the initiates of Pharasma, and Father Grimburrow assures me that entreaties to Pharasma have been made to make certain future events will be unlikely, and that acolytes stand on hand to make sure any return of the dead to our world will be brief."
"You have also heard of the vandalism to the Harrowstone monument. This is true too. Someone has written letters on the face of it indelibly in blood. This has happened as recently as this morning." There are some gasps and muttering at this.
"We of the council have not been idle while this was occurring. We commissioned an investigation. Those you see here with us on the stage are those we hired to find the source of these disturbances. Friends and family of the recently past Professor Petros Lorrimor, they report they have experience with such matters, and thus far they have shown themselves capable. On our direction, they have begun to investigate the ruins of the prison or Harrowstone, so long rumoured haunted."
At this point there is a clamouring of questions, and nearly half of those in the benches stand and begin shouting.
Councilman Heathmount can be seen speaking, but his voice is lost in the din. Gharen jumps to his feet and stomps to the front of the stage. He shouts, "Quiet! QUIET! " and the crowd finally settles enough for him to talk. Vashian Hearthmount nods to him and returns to his seat.
Gharen continues in a forceful voice and tone, "I know some of you think that Harrowstone is cursed, and that going there might cause problems in itself. I have heard some of you blame these strangers for the trouble, saying that by going out there, they must have caused what is happening. I can vouch for this myself, that the first of the troubles, both the undead rising in the restlands, AND the desecration of the monument began before they ever went out there. They felt there was a connection, but have abided by law, and sought this council's approval before investigating."
Someone in the benches yells out, "What about that old Necromancer? He died out there, didn't he? This is probably something he did, raising the dead to make himself immortal or somesuch. Why should we trust his kith and kin?"[/b]
Kendra jumps to her feet shouting, "My father was no necromancer! HE spent his life PROTECTING lives from the like of them. He was a great enemy to them!"
Gharen waves to her with a descending motion, trying to calm her down. Councilwoman Straelock stands and escorts her back to her seat. Gharen goes on, "It is true that Petros Lorrimor died at Harrowstone, but we have it in sworn testimony that he was there trying to keep strangers away from the place, for he was fearful of what they might be up to. While initially thought an accident, investigations have revealed that he may have died defending you all from that unknown threat. While we cannot know if this is the whole of the matter, the testimony has not been challenged, and has been seconded by trusted accounts. Now, in order to deal with the matter, the council has commissioned this group to complete their investigation and lay the spirits of Harrowstone to rest. We have expressed our confidence that they will do so. So please, in the meantime, please keep to yourselves, and ensure your safety until this matter is resolved. While we are not imposing a curfew, I advise all to remain in their homes after dark, and to secure your doors, just to be safe. We will let you know when all is well. We do not think it will be long. Now, are there any questions?"
There are quite a few mutterings, and people all over are rising to there feet and shouting. Little can be heard, and less understood. Some voices can be heard crying, and many have an edge of rising panic.
Delia sits, arms crossed, she is more irritated at the council than the people. All their meetings and planning is nothing more than an obstacle. If they just had free reign from the start to do their own investigations, they could have probably resolved it by now, and saved these townsfolk any more worry.
Father is agitated by all the possible threats in the room. The town has already shown that some of them are willing to act aggressively toward the late professor's friends. He slides his chair just a little closer to Delia, and tries to watch for any threat that may become violent.
"I sense something is amiss," Ember whispers to Kendra. "Warn the others."
She then stands, scanning the hall to try to sense where this sensation is coming from.
Agnar looks about his hand moving to be ready to grab his sword should anything occur. He than tries to tell some of his allies before looking about once again.
Ried sniffs and murmers to his nearest compatriot "Fascinating, I think the spirits are reaching out. I wonder which one this is ... could be any I guess, just don't know enough about them."
Catching himself, he looks to the side, "Councilmen, you may want to get yourselves and the people out of here. I feel it's going to get sporty."
Alistair continues to study, he has, in fact, withdrawn to the desk behind him, and is diligently taking notes, and totally oblivious to the goings on around him.
Valachi misses the cues, but takes note of Ember and Agnar's concern. He stands by Kendra, ready to punch the next person that insults her father.
The anger and emotion in the room continues to rise. All of the council members get to their feet and walk the stage. Each is doing some variation of a calming gesture, asking people to be seated or be quiet, but all of their voices are lost in the din.
The sensation of heat in the room continues to rise, until the point where it feels as though something must reach the flashpoint. Then, all of a sudden, it does. A sconce upon the western wall bursts, spraying flaming oil down the stones and onto the wooden floor. As though dried and readied by the heat of emotion in the room, the floorboards catch instantly, turning the area into a raging fire. Luckily, the closest villager sits upon the bench, and was some 5 ft from the wall. He is able to scurry back, and does not appear harmed. Seconds later, the first explosion is followed by another, this on the south wall; then that by another, on the west wall, and then two together so close that it would be hard to say which was first.
General panic that had been felt over things they did not understand is replaced in the villagers by something more primal; immediate panic motivated by fear for their lives.
Out of each of the flames screams a ball of fire, and then a second. A scream accompanies each. Within each flaming sphere is a skull. Those of you present since the first foray into Harrowstone recognize the same flaming skulls that challenged you in the training room of that ancient structure.
Agnar
Alistair
Delia
Ember
Father
Kendra
Ried
Valachi
Gharen
Vashian
Benjan Caeller
Flaming Skulls (10)
= Ember
Round 1:
Round 1, Init 3
Ember strides forward to the middle aisle, and channels the power of Pharasma to quell the skulls.