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Ren watches all the reactions from the comfort of the shadows.
Ahh yes... Interesting how they each react to the "rage" inside Miss Chrona. So pretty but so unstable, although that outburst seemed almost calculated.
Hmmmm. Sir Praetor seemed to handle it well. Master Lackspell however looks to be handling it badly. I wonder if I should explain to him how to stay safe when they.... It would be like Jim did for me. I could.... Oh Jim, I hope you are alright. I hope Ripper didn't... NO do not think about that. FOCUS on the here and now.
You need to be useful or else they will send you away. Focus, Focus.
Ok they are almost through the door and only master Lackspell is left. I'll just move closer to the door so it's not completely dark....
Ren moves closer to the door so she can see through but stays outside waiting for Lackspell to go first.
Lackspell stands staring as the rest of the group move through the door, lost for a moment, not so much in thought as in a curious welter of emotion. Suddenly he realizes that most of the group have gone through the door ahead of him and the light is dimming as Varak gets further ahead. With a nervous twitch of a smile at Ren, he pats the side of his pack to confirm to himself that his sunrod is in easy reach if needed and then taking a deep breath to steady himself, he follows the rest of the group through the door.
Inside the door, you find a disturbing scene. There is a dilapidated bed, ravaged by the years and it's proximity to the water. On the bed, there is a skeleton, bereft of clothing and flesh. It is small, small enough to be a child.
Lackspell stares at the gruesome scene laid out before the group. Almost mesmerized by it, he is oblivious to all else.
By the gods! This just keeps getting worse... is this what adventuring is like... one scene of horror after another ... this is almost as bad as back at ... no ... perhaps not ... gods! get me out of here ... out... get out...
He shudders and appears to have broken into a cold sweat.
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Praetor draws in breath so quickly at the ghastly sight that it's almost a hiss. The killing of innocents, children especially, is the most deplorable of acts in Praetor's mind.
He sheathes his greatsword, draws his everburning torch from his backpack and looks about the room-
but the dead child holds his attention and tears at his mind.
"So much death...We must put an end to this madness.
Lackspell does not look at Praetor when he speaks, his attention seems locked on the bed and it's tiny inhabitant. And yet he seems to be reacting to Praetor's words when, his voice barely more than a whisper, he says ...
"Madness... madness ... who would do such a thing?"
Varak looked on with a shake of his head, wondering what atrocities indeed had happened in this room. His eyes would catch notice of the book hidden beneath, the reptile moving towards the bed to retrieve it. As one claw held firm to the light source of the room, the other would hold the book, moving to set it down somewhere so that he could properly read it. Perhaps this could provide more answers, this little creature maybe having saved the answers needed to bring down the vileness of this house. "I'm not sure if there is a way forward, but this book might be able to tell us what was here and what still might be."
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Ren remains on watch just outside the doorway. Due to her angle she sees no sign of the book until Varak sets it in the middle of the floor.
Is that a child's skeleton or a Halfling? What did they say Stoot was? Was he a gnome? I sure hope that is his remains in there...
With a shudder she turns away and looks into the darkness trying to ignore the sight of the small bones she knows is behind her, but still listening to the others conversation.
Lady of Luck, Let them find something good in this forsaken place... Even the darkness feels creepy here...
Praetor, looking around for a cause of death is a bit difficult. But with all of your perception rolls, and know that you're looking for it, you spot a few details.
On the back of the door that you entered into, you can see scratch marks in the wood. The scratch marks are surrounded by old, dried blood.
Although nobody else has voiced it, the implications of the body, combined with the scratches on the inside of the door are pretty clear to Lackspell. Turning sharply, he hurries out of the room, gasping and looking for relief from the oppressive horror. He gets half way down the corridor when it suddenly occurs to him that the next room is almost as bad.
no, no no no no ... can't stay ... can't go on... can't go into that room... it's so dark in here ... this place is just so foul ... I can't ... I can't stand it ...
He stands in the corridor, paralyzed by loathing and indecision.
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Watching Lackspell rush by her as she waits unnoticed a memory stirs.
What? He's just standing there... He's motionless... Just like the boy held in the cage for weeks by Ripper. Tomas???.... He cracked, I wonder if.... Is it the room? He reacted badly to Chrona,... I need to help... it's what Jim would... I...
Her mind made up, Ren slowly makes her way over to the man in the dim light and whispers gently.
Master Lackspell, please. Please come back by the door. This is not a good place to wander around in the darkness.
Come back to the group and if you can't be in the room, join me on watch outside the door.
There is light there and we can watch for bad things together.
She softly grabs his hand and gently tugs.
Come, this is no place for any of us to be alone
Lackspell stirs slightly as Ren whispers to him. For a moment it seems as if he is not going to react further but then he turns and looks at her. Ren can see the horror and dismay on his face start to fade slightly as he takes in her words.
His voice shakes slightly as he replies quietly "Yes, yes you are right... alone is ... not good. Thank... thank you Ren."
He looks down as she takes his hand and, after a moments hesitation at the thought of going back towards that room with its sad little corpse, he follows her back to the door and waits with her just outside the room.
Calm, try to calm down... Ren is right - terrible as this place is, it is better to be with them than alone in the dark. How does she do that? She seems so calm... I can hardly stop shaking... I feel ill ...
"I'm sorry ... sorry to be a burden Ren. I am not made for this sort of thing. You are so brave, how does this not terrify you?"
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Praetor nods in agreement with Chrona, but cautions her: "I want to raze this place as much as the next, but we have to be careful there are no innocent people here first..." The paladin's hands are trembling, and his jaws ache from clenching his teeth. "Say, uh...Can you spare me a smoke? I normally don't, but, well-"
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Arkon leans against the wall taking in the sounds and considering what it would be like to end it all here
"If this was the murderers hideout shouldn't we get it consecrated and then burn it, there may be restless souls. I agree it must be burned none must be allowed to use this place as inspiration for further horrors"
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Ren looks up at Lackspell with wide eyes.
She whispers:
Who said I'm not afraid? This place is creepy.
However, I learned a long time ago that if you give into fear it just gets you hit or worse. This is a bad place, but as long as you are free, and can hide in the dark, you can be safe....
She continues to hold his hand as she peers into the darkness.
A releaved thought runs through her head...
someone else is scared too....
As far as you know this was the last area.
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The group seems to be in parts mourning, horrified, and almost sickened. Chrona knows she is along with them, but most of it is hidden under the intense itch to erase the area the best she knows how.
"We came because of weeping noises, something crying. That bird-boy back there used to cry.. I feel like we've solved our mystery. Let's head down the other way towards the moonlight, unless someone wants to go swimming?"
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"Should we take the child? His parents may want to see him one last time and give him a proper burial. I feel wrong just leaving him here - I will carry him if I must."
He is tired of this place and the evil sickness that has corrupted the town of late. As the others begin to file out he follows behind the rest, his head low and full of sadness.
Necromancy...evil...so much chaos and death. We must put an end to it, stop Longshanks before he causes more pain for these poor people...I haven't forgotten you, Longshanks, and my blade will swing heavy as a headsman's axe when I find you.
Lackspell is clearly averting his gaze from the corpse ...
Oh but I can't be out of here soon enough. I want to see the sun again... must try though ... try and stay calm, be brave...
"I think if it were a halfling the bones would be broader and more solid. I'm not sure about gnomes though."
You can absolutely take the skeleton if you wish. You could wrap it up in a cloak for transport if you like. If you want to identify it more accurately, make a Heal or Knowledge Nature check.
Ren, you could find out about Chopper's victims by talking to Sheriff Hemlock or Father Zantus.
Other than that, that's pretty much all there is to see here, so you may leave if you wish.
Finding nothing of value inside the small journal, Varak would pocket it for now. He figured maybe if h could mend and restore the book to its former self, perhaps it could be of use. After that, he'd make his way after his companions, following after, ready to leave this place behind and burn down whatever evil still lingered within its walls.
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Chrona sheaths her sword and rubs her hands together. She lights a cigarette and passes it to Praetor. "Yes of course, sorry there, I'm a bit distracted in this place." She then lights one for herself as well.
"If there aren't any last words.. Also would anyone like to accompany me back through the building and help torch it?"
Lackspell licks his lips nervously before speaking. "Burn it if you will, I just want to be out of here as soon as possible."
"I shall join you Chrona. It is best to see this place burnt and prayers be said so that this wickedness will go with it," Varak offered, having straightened up after they had all began to leave. He castes his final use of light, his symbol still aiding in their walk through the dark house. The priest had to agree with Lackspell, though he didn't say it aloud. He too was quite over being in such an evil place.
You guys came here in the daytime. Not much time has passed...it's the afternoon now.
Varak, the book is just a spellbook, nothing else in it. If you guys want to, it won't be hard to burn the place down.
After that, what's your next step?
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Chrona nods to Varak, glad that she won't be alone in this thing. Then she starts casting spark on large objects in the current room. When it is burning she hurries to do the same in the pedestal room, then to the eye room. Before climbing the ladder, she burns the corpse of the bird-boy and anything else in that place. Lastly she burns the shack. While she watches it, she hopes the whole little island burns, all the trees and bushes and grass, so everything would get to start over.
She'll then meet up with the others. "We'd best get back, rest a little and speak with the Sheriff in the morning."
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Praetor stops for several minutes with the small body in his arms to watch the blasphemous building burn. 'May the light never again leave this place.' Once the building is roaring and he can feel the heat on his face and his metal half-plate heating, he turns and heads to town with the others.
He averts his gaze from the eyes of any townspeople, who stare with morbid curiosity, and brings the body directly to the chapel and father Zantus. On his way he asks that one of his fellow adventurers "Find sheriff Hemlock, if you will. Tell her what we found. She may have answers, or more questions."
I need a drink or ten.
While Chrona and Varak put the monstrous building to the flame, Lackspell exits back onto the island and stands facing out to sea, soaking in the sunlight and breathing deep of the fresh sea air.
Oh the relief ... it feels so good to be out in the light and the air again. I could just stand here all day... That was no good though... I was almost useless in there... I will need to be more in control ...braver even... more like Ren ... she was scared too, so she said ... but she managed to control it... I need to do that too if I am going to stay with these people ...
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Ren is quiet on the way back from the island. As soon as she lands she looks at Praetor and says:
Master Praetor, I will get the sheriff and meet you at the cathedral if that is all right with you.
Assuming she gets a positive response she runs off to the watch station. At the door she addresses the guard on duty:
Excuse me sir, Is Sheriff Hemlock here? I have something I need to talk to her about...
She trails off as the Guard looks down at her.
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Chrona follows Praetor to the chapel. She's distracted by reflection on that happened down in the island, mainly the harmful illusion. 'He's everywhere, I thought this was far enough away but.. how can I know if something isn't infected by him, or a dark ruse.. everything, anything could be a trap.. He's just toying with me, I can hear him laughing, just playing games.. forever.. until he sells me or sets me aside and forgets.. I have to learn to hunt him.'
At the chapel Chrona remembers the spell book and waits for the Sheriff to get there so the recounting can begin.
Ren, you are able to find Sheriff Hemlock. She's willing to go with you to the chapel.
She comes to the chapel and sees you all (I assume) gathered there. Father Zantus has joined you as well. Hemlock clears her throat.
"I assume this won't be pleasant."
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By the time everyone has arrived, Praetor has laid the wrapped skeleton on the ground in front of the altar and kneels beside it. Truth be told he is fighting the urge to blame Sheriff Hemlock and Father Zantus for this unnecessary death.
'They were careless and it cost a life. It was an accident, I don't doubt, but this death is on their hands.'
He does not lift his eyes to greet Sheriff Hemlock and the others, but echoes Chrona with his stern reply. "No, it will not be pleasant. He finally looks up at them. "We have all returned, and for that I thank the gods. That vile cabin is burning to ash so no more evil can come of it. Let all the townspeople see the smoke and flames so they know the fate that awaits such wicked nonsense...But I wonder why you left it, why such evil was allowed to remain...The book, the eyes, the jars of eyes..."
Praetor closes his eyes and breathes deeply in an attempt to calm himself. "The cries that haunted this town have been silenced...Some demon...And locked away in a hidden room we found something else-" He unwraps his cloak from around the corpse and looks upon it bitter and sorrowful.
Father Zantus mutters a quick prayer, and sorrow and remorse are etched play across the Sheriff's face, plain to see.
"I...we, all of us, we were terrified, plain and simple. We were terrified and the Mayor had ordered the true details of Chopper's actions to be kept quiet. That's why we left it all there. And the fire came soon after...so many ill events back then. But we had no idea..."
Hemlock's eyes linger on the skeleton.
"I think I know who that is. Colin McKinley. He went missing around the time of the killings. This will be hard for his family, but at least they'll have some closure."
Father Zantus speaks up.
"At dawn, I shall lead a group of priests there in a ritual to purify the area. If you come across any dangerous items, anything touched by fell magic, you may bring it to me. The Church will provide you a bounty for such items; the full price such an object would fetch on open market. You shall be well rewarded, and we shall destroy dangerous, dark magics. Everyone wins, yes?"
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Chrona can't tell if the priest is shaken or hiding something. Then again she doesn't really care, the longer this takes the further she is from Foxglove's luxuries.
'Warm fires, furs, jewels.. pleasant things.. drink and food..'
She pulls out the spell book and offers it to the Father Zantus. "This is most of what we found out there. It's full of Necromancy. It'll be good knowing no one will use it again."
Lackspell stands at the back of the group during the discussion and the identification of the bones. He is still clearly unsettled and ill at ease, although being back out in the light of the day has obviously calmed him somewhat.
The poor child... left alone in there all that time... and his family ... his poor, poor family... all these years, not knowing. I hope this, sad as it is, helps them
Varak listened intently from the back of the room after they had returned, nodding and seeming pleased with Father Zantus' promise and the idea that this could finally be left behind. Though in his mind it still plagued him that this had been just a detour wickedness, and hadn't offered any new light upon the looming wickedness of the Longshanks and the goblins. If the two were connected, he could not say. The ruined book still needed to be mended and restored to learn if it offered any insight, as the few pictures of birds he showed were still mysterious. With that thought, he'd politely excuse himself. The evening drew near, night on it's way, and he'd make for the inn. He could use food and drink as he prayed for the hour he'd need to prepare the mending spell, and the ten minutes to cast it.