Yasmine shakes her head, torn somewhere between a dangerous curiosity of the unknown and primal instincts of preservation.
"I suppose it's for the best if we don't bother disturbing what ought not to be disturbed," she commented after a bit of shoveling food in her mouth. "Is it a early to bed, early to rise night then? Will we at least be adventurous enough to go on the tour of the house first?"
"Oh, very well," Chester replies with resigned air to his tone. In reality, he is just a bit disappointed that there will be no grand adventure this evening, but it cannot be much longer now. "Though I quite agree with Aldric, I do understand your concerns, as well. Another time, perhaps. I will say that I am quite keen on the grand tour, if anyone else is interested."
"I don't mind a tour, although perhaps that might depend on how in depth that tour might be. Rocking the boat might not be the smartest idea of it raises the ire of the supernatural", Kiara puts in.
"Maybe we can see the ropes used to hang the people like you were hoping, Kiara."
"What a wonderful idea Yasmine" Kiara responds earnestly, "I'd quite like looking at those ropes assuming they are still around somewhere."
Pinough gives a heavy sign as he leaves the room, you may be able to hear him as he trundles down the hallway, "The house takes care of meddlers, gods help them."
The young porter returns as dinner finishes. "Master Pinough bade me to give your company the tour, if you will follow me, we'll start back in the main chamber."
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"I'll pass," Jacob says with a pompous sniff. "I care not for these theatrical frivolities. I shall be in my room studying."
Chester furrows his brows thoughtfully at the comment from Pinough as he wanders away, but puts it out of his mind. For the moment, at least. There are plenty of other things to concern oneself with for the time being, like the lovey dinner with new friends. When the porter returns, he quickly finishes the idle conversation he had been having to give his full attention to the young man. The particulars of different flavors of magic, while perfectly enthralling dinner chatter, pale in comparison to the tour. Or so he hopes, as he very much wishes to see something otherworldly this evening. Maybe the best way to go about seeing such a thing is to go through with this tour.
Yazmine, who had seemed to be racing to finish dinner first, immediately jumps up when the porter returns to the dinning area. "Oh yes! I've been looking forward to this!" she replies as she sets her napkin on her plate. "In Qadira, a thing such as a 'haunted house' would have been burnt to the ground the moment anyone caught a whisper of such things." She steps in line with the porter, clearly ready to follow him into the belly of the beast.
He escorts the group out into the central room of the house, just beyond the entry chamber. "Well, eh, to start, this chamber is notorious for some of the more gruesome deaths of guests, and has been refitted for everyone's safety. It used to be that there was a great chandelier above." He looks up nervously. "But once the previous management caught on that the spirits were loosing the chandelier from it's mooring intentionally...well, these wall lanterns were installed. Sometimes, I hear the chandelier crashing down in the middle of the night...I suppose the chandelier's ghost? It's not something I enjoy anyway."
He takes you into a sitting room opposite the dinning room. Several well-padded armchairs and tables dot the room in small groupings. Boxes of sweets alight a few of the short tables. An attended dry bar displays its various and exotic bottles on the north wall. "Fortunately, this room's reputation is much more harmless. Every so often a tumbler of brandy or the like will mysteriously appear on the dry bar's counter."
The next stop is outside, through the sitting room's ashen double doors and into the large garden area. "From here you can see the old stables, where the master of the house noosed and hung his hunting dogs and horses. The place was abandoned during renovations, as no animal would stay long within its confines. The ghosts of the dead animals are said to be quite terrifying, and at night you can here the dogs howling, as if on the chase."
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Up in his room, Jacob cracks open his spellbook and inhales the soothing aroma of parchment and ink...and magic. It was the one thing he didn't hate in the world. Within seconds he is immersed in the monotony of reciting words of power. Words that he could call on at a moment's notice to alter the very physics of the world. He loved being a wizard.
"A ghost after my own heart, I believe," Chester offers with clear amusement painted across his face at the mention of a ghost pouring brandy. As they are taken throughout the house, he occasionally makes use of the Detect Magic spell to quietly verify their host's claims. Particularly at the stables. "I cannot help but wonder just how he hung a horse. That seems like quite the feat of strength."
"He... hung the horses?" Yazmine asked for confirmation she had heard correctly. Skepticism slowly seeped back into her. Maybe the place wasn't haunted. Probably for the best; she was less than useless against the undead.
Kiara doesn't appear to be too shaken by the idea that a horse might have been hung, it wasn't like she was unaware of worse things that she had head of. Like Yasmine, she remains quietly dubious, though she is too polite to say so.
"I'm not an expert on that sort of thing, but that's what they say. Some of the soldiers that have passed through say you wouldn't have to suspend the entire horse, just the front part, so the weight is on the neck." He shrugs, glances at the old stables, then shifts his focus back to the group.
The tour continues around the back of the house and then into the kitchen. The servants are busy cleaning up after dinner, but nod with a smile at the visitors if they catch a glance from the group. "Thankfully, the kitchen doesn't seem to be haunted, though as you can see we have a fine, and clean, kitchen."
You're finally led back to the dining room. Desserts are left out on the table upon a large platter. "That concludes the tour, please help yourselves to these treats. If you should need anything further, any of the household servants will be happy to assist you." The porter bows awkwardly, but quickly, then looks around at each of you, in case anything is needed.
Chester offers an easy mile and he nods his thanks to the porter as the tour is concluded. "We appreciate the hospitality and will be swift about informing one of you if we require something. Thank you." With that, he looks back to the group and waits patiently for the help to wander off to do...whatever it is that they do. Once they seem alone, he pipes up, "Well, the house is certainly haunted. If nothing else, I can verify that. And I take it you are all still quite adamant about avoiding any exploration of the grounds?"
Yazmine shakes her head at Chester. "See, now you're just looking for trouble. Haven't you read of those horror stories? Trouble always befalls those who go poking their noses around. And those who separate themselves from the group," she adds with a glance towards their rooms. She had a reason for suggesting Kiara and her bunk for the night. Safety in numbers and all.
"It was a pleasant enough diversion. I wonder though, what drove Lord Beumhal to do such a thing? Surely not the grounds themselves. I may have missed something, perhaps something from his past? Perhaps someday we'll know, but perhaps not so eager to chase after the truth now after that hearty meal and this little parade of ours; I'll settle for a good night's sleep though." Ghalmont's gaze rests on the cursed chair at the end of the table for a moment after his declaration, he visibly shudders-then shakes his head clear.
"I have chores to attend to, a good night to you all!" The young man hurries back into the kitchen. The room is free of servants, but still entertains the tray of desserts.
"Shall we retire as well, Kiara?"
"That sounds perfectly fine to me Yazmine, I think I'd also appreciate retiring for the night" Kiara puts in, believing that she had tempted fate already enough tonight, not at all pleased with poking whatever supernatural things lurked in the house.
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Once preparations are complete and night is upon them, Jacob walks over to his pack. He flips the top flap over and stands up as a skeletal hand reaches up out of it. It does not, however, attempt to pull him in. Instead, it pulls itself out. Indeed a full, human skeleton pops out of the man's bag and stands before him at the ready. It steps aside as yet another skeleton pulls its way out of the bag. Surprisingly, both are clean and decked in fresh armor and weapons. One has a bow and the other, a sword and shield. "Mortimer. Rick. You know the drill. Mortimer guards the door and Rick wakes me in case of intrusion. Shoo" Both give no indication of understanding but they move to his command. Mortimer stands near the door, shield and sword ready, while Rick stands near the bed, bow in hand.
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Chester offers a nod of clear understanding at the temperament of his friends, excusing himself to make himself a drink at the dry bar. That done, he heads off to his room for the evening to offer the appropriate prayers to his deity before bed.
The night is uneventful, though it is certainly comfortable.
Morning finds you a delicious breakfast of roasted pork and sweetbreads, and a very relieved Pinough wishing everyone well on their journeys. Once the group departs the house, and returned to the dock, they find Arter and his boat ready for the day's travels.
"Not much is it? Glad to see you're all back though, I've had a few passengers go missing after a night's stay-hence the staying on the boat. We might make it through this after all."
The captain steers the vessel away from the dock and back into the gentle current.
-----
Just after noon, well after other traffic on the river has become sparse, the river meets another coming from Sarkoris, in the northeast. The speed of the current increases as you turn west and finally find yourselves under the dense foliage that is the Shudderwood.
"Oh good, I'm not dead", Kiara dryly remarks as she wakes, from a (probably) restless night. After rising, Kiara prepares her spells in the darkness before joining everyone at the dock.
It was a bit of a shock to find that Chester hadn't wandered off to get himself into trouble where he shouldn't have over the hours of night. Yazmine had simply assumed he'd try to sneak into the attic and launch a one-man paranormal investigation. It had been a bit odd to get ready that morning in the dark when Kiara was preparing her spells, but Yazmine held her tongue; he could appreciate an individual's dedication to a specific morning routine.
~ ~ ~
Yazmine resumes her usual position hanging off the side of the boat looking more than a little green as they cut through the waters. Her servant was dutifully holding her mistress' hair back. Her sea-sick only got worse when they hit the faster waters.
"Surely we're almost there," she managed to groan between heaves.
Jacob was relieved but also a little disappointed no one tried to make a move during the night. He would have loved to see their reaction to his...bodyguards. But it was probably for the best. He didn't know how the others would react. While he didn't care about their concerns, he did care about efficiency. It would make things move along smoothly the less they knew about his specialty.
Chester gives a wince at Yazmine's continual nausea during the trip and resolves to rub her back soothingly. He tries to chat with her about idle things like what her homeland is like and what she does to entertain herself, if only to distract the woman. As much as he is able, anyway. The cleric keeps an eye on Aldric and the captain, trying to listen to how soon they might actually arrive. He is certainly not much of one for geography lessons, but the river is picking up and that could bode well or ill for the group.
Captain Arter nods toward the next bend, "By nightfall we'll try to find somewhere to make camp, and if we survive the night...Ascanor the next afternoon. I used to make the trip a few times a year back before the lodge fell to the Shudderwood. Half interested in seeing what became of it...then again, I'm more interested in getting back out in one living, breathing piece."
---------
The evening is much darker under the canopy of the Shudderwood, and the alien cries of the nocturnal predators send shivers up your spine. Those with canny or unnatural eyesight can see some of the giant colonies of arachnid kind in the deep forest, or the glowing eyes of beasts as they stalk or are stalked through the underbrush.
In the gloom, a lantern light appears off the left side of the river, illuminating a small dock. On the shore is a small, one room hut, windows lit, chimney billowing. On a chair, outside the open door, is a figure enveloped by an ample cloak, a wide-brimmed hat covers his face. Captain Arter give the company a inquisitive shrug after he considers the dock and it's proprietor.
"What exactly do you mean by fell to the Shudderwood," Jacob asks, sounding more curious than fearful. Indeed he seemed to regard the forest and its denizens with interest.
Yazmine looks to the shore longingly, regardless of the eerie sounds and cryptic warnings of their captain. She perks up at the sight of a dock and a home, then looks eagerly to the others.
"Are we done sailing for the night? Will we be docking now?" It's clear where her vote will land if there's a question of trying to pull into the dock. Or anywhere, really. She's just looking to get her feet on land again as soon as possible.
"Fell to the beasts of the forest they say...wouldn't be surprised if that was true. I've never seen this dock before either. Best make our decision quick, or we'll have to paddle back. Arter doesn't leave the wheelhouse, just stare suspiciously at the cloaked figure.
Ghalmont scratches at his beard, "I don't like it, but we still don't have a second pilot to get us the rest of the way... I suppose we could spend the night making sure the good captain stayed awake and alert, but he'd need time to recover."
Jacob passes a the boat pilot an annoyed look. That vague comment about beasts wasn't helpful in designing plans against them. But he forgoes commenting and passes his gaze over to the dock. With a flick of his wrist he conjures 4 orbs of light and sends them flying towards the figure to light up his face. "Who are you he bellows to the figure."
Chester, ever the diplomat, steps off of the ship and up onto the dock to address the figure. Though he does squint a bit against the darkness and hopefully with Jacob's help, can make out a face.
When he speaks, he does his best to keep his tone warm and his demeanor friendly.
"Hello, good sir, and a lovely evening to you! If I might inquire, my fellows and I are in search of a place to bed down for the night. It has been a long day of travel, after all, and it would be best to remain safely within shelter. I've no doubt you understand the sentiment.
"We would like to stay here, if we may, and are perfectly willing to negotiate with you over the price."
Arter rigs the wheel, then busies himself with securing the boat to the dock.
The figure rises him its chair, pulling itself against the porch railing, "Visitors...it's been some time." The figure's voice seems odd, though you can't quite make out why, it's almost as if his voice is slightly out of synch with itself. "Tell me travelers, what brings you to the depths of the Shudderwood at this hour?"
Chester's brows furrow briefly and he twitches a hand in Aldric's direction, gesturing that the large man come just a bit closer. Just in case, of course. "We are merely passing through at the moment, my good man, but our group requires rest. Preferably within doors where it might be safer from the wildlife. May we speak inside where it is warmer and brighter, my good man? I do so hate being unable to look my hosts in the eye."
"Our business is ours. We are merely passing through, but need someplace to stop for the night. Is this dock open for such stops?"
"We've nothing to fear from the beasts here. You are welcome to moor the boat, but I cannot accommodate guests within my cottage. I would have once, perhaps again, but at present..." The figure raises its hands in an apologetic gesture.