"I think we should head to the market."
"Get your equipment and be ready though, not everyone in this town is going to be friendly."
No one bothered the group as they made their way through Thrushmooor to the High Mart, but as the survivors approached the closest entrance to the covered marketplace they could hear people shouting.
"Get out of here, you crazy old fool!" A man's voice, sounding angry.
"You're just scaring everybody!" A woman's, also angry but a little frightened.
The group could hear a mumbled response but it was too quiet to hear from this far away.
Desdemona frowned, and glanced at John, mainly to be sure she wasn't too far from the burly protector. "Perhaps we should see what's going on. Anything unusual in town might well be of interest. Let's see what we can learn."
Quickening her step, she hurried on.
Reine frowned, but followed along, as ready as she could mentally make herself for anything they might encounter.
"Sounds like trouble." John says.
"At least they're angry at someone besides us."
"Let's see what is happening and if we can calm things down."
John leads the way to investigate the ruckus.
After breakfast was done, Broom cleaned her plate and cutlery before gathering up her belongings and getting ready for the market. She was a little excited to see what kind of things they had for sale. She didn't know anything about how much any of the stuff they had from Briarstone was worth, but trusted that one of the others would be more savvy when it came time to haggle.
She was disappointed when they arrived and a commotion was already threatening to ruin the morning. She nodded at John and Des and headed towards the crow to see what was going on.
The survivors quickly realized what was going on. The man they'd seen walking through town yesterday wearing a sandwich board was standing by the entrance to the High Mart and enduring the abuse of a small group of angry shopkeepers.
"I'm just trying to help! The Witch is back and she's going to take us all! We have to run! The whole town could disappear at any moment!"
"Now that's interesting," Reine said, interjecting into the conversation. "I've never been called a witch before. Something that sounds like witch, yes, but never actually a witch." She gave the best non-threatening smile she knew how to give. "And while I am back, I'm not planning to take the town anywhere. I have no idea how I'd even start to do something like that. So, I think you might be blowing things just a bit out of proportion, friend."
Nasmith and the group bullying him all turned to stare at Reine. The whole group looked unfriendly but no one was actively hostile. The man in the sandwich board responded first.
"No, the Briarstone Witch. She's back. There have been signs everywhere, haven't you seen them?" Elgrior Nasmith started slow, like he was explaining things to a child- or maybe he was just being cautious around someone who looked like Reine- but as he warmed to his subject his voice rose and he started speeding back up.
"The shapes on the walls, the lost priestess, the lights on the lake. She even walks among us at night, glowing like a beacon to lure us to follow her into Hell!" Nasmith was getting more animated, his expression changing from sullen and withdrawn to something almost illuminated as he began to preach.
"I'm sure you must be hungry," Desdemona hazarded. "Why don't you come with us to take a meal, and you can tell us more about these signs? I'd like to hear more about them."
She glanced at the others, adding in a lowered voice, "I'm sure just two of us could see to the sale of our things. Perhaps I and one other might hear this fellow out? Else, I'll go with him, and meet you all later."
"I'd be happy to continue the conversation somewhere else," Reine agreed, once again turning her smile on the rest of the "bullying" group. "Would any of you folks care to join us, or, the smile dropped like a guillotine blade, "do you have other things you should be doing?"
Broom listened with concern as the old man ranted, but perked up upon hearing about the glowing lady "Oh! We've seen the glowing lady! Just on the uh, oh, hmm." she quickly curbed her enthusiasm for sharing the tale as she caught sight of the disapproving looks from her friends.
Broom leaned over and whispered to the group "Have we heard anything about a missing priestess? That sounds important, like the missing magistrate and missing investigators."
"Indeed, we may even be able to trade information with you," Desdemona agreed, before excusing herself to have a word with the others.
"I do seem to recall Winter telling us something of the sort. I believe it was Winter, at least. The recent days have been... a strain." She whispered, and shivered momentarily. "I'm fine leaving the shopping to John - if you believe you aren't in any danger doing it, John. The three of us could find out more, if this man can be lur... er, convinced to come with us."
"I'm good." John says.
"Take the nice excited man somewhere and see what he can tell us about Briarstone's misfortunes."
"I'll see what the trading looks like."
To Broom he says: "Let me borrow your magic sack and I'll try to lighten our load by a bit."
Broom froze for a moment, a look of worry crossing her face "Our pack? But all of Our stuff is in it."
She hesitated for a moment more, fidgeting with the straps before reluctantly taking it off. She unstrapped the broom from where it was secured along the side of the pack and handed the magical container to John.
Having no where else to keep the household tool, she settled on simply using it like a staff, bristle side up.
The group hassling Nasmith looked thoroughly intimidated by Reine's unsettling smile and they immediately started heading back inside. "Well... just make sure he doesn't come back," one of the men said lamely over his shoulder as he ducked through the door.
Elgrior looked at Reine and the others suspiciously but eventually nodded. "Um, alright. I can tell you about the signs. Maybe you can help convince people we all need to leave." He looked up and down the street. "Where do you wanna go? They won't let me into the Stain or the Silver Wagon anymore."
Taking a moment to lay a comforting hand on Broom's shoulder, Desdemona offered her a sympathetic smile before turning back to Nasmith. "Perhaps the dining room of our accomodations would be a better choice. More quiet, so as to be conducive to private conversation, and less threatening. I'm sure that together, we might convince the cook to offer us a meal."
The wild-haired man nodded at Des. "Okay. Maybe you can convince people to take this seriously, my lady. I'll explain everything. Where are you staying?" Nasmith gestured for the Briarstone survivors to lead him where they would.
John, meanwhile, followed the thoroughly cowed merchants back into the High Mart. He found that the city's upscale market was a large building laid out like a traditional market square, only covered with a protective roof and indoors to ward off inclement weather. There were stalls for a variety of items, from snacks to eat to upscale ingredients, from a custom shoemaker to a cobbler, from outer wear to underthings. John found a prominent stall for another bookseller, this one also closed down.
It was a cozy, busy place.
Well! Taking strange, disheveled men "home!" Her family would-
Desdemona frowned as she led them back to their quarters. Family? What family? If she had family, why hadn't they come for her at the asylum? Why hadn't they taken care of her instead of dumping her in the asylum?
This time, she didn't suspect Reine's rage of being infectious - she was quite certain it was her own.
Striding through the fish-smelling town, she straight-armed the door open and marched to the dining area to find a servant she might instruct to give Nasmith a meal.
John was able to find a weapons dealer, though his wares ran more to fancy and decorative than utilitarian. There wasn't an armorer, per se, but there was a caravan outfitter who sold armor.
The prominent bookseller's stall was closed and empty of books, much like the bookstore the survivors had checked out the night before. But John found several stalls to buy and sell general items.
They'd only been gone a short time, so breakfast was just beginning to wind down when Des stormed into the dining room. One of the waitstaff took a few steps toward them- toward Elgrior Nasmith, more likely- and quickly decided to keep it to himself when he got a look at Des's face. Whatever he'd been about to say, instead he said "Ah. Will you be needing service for your guest, lady?"
"Yes. Prepare something hot and filling. We'll need a bit of privacy in the dining room after Mr. Nasmith has been served," Desdemona instructed, without it occurring to her to thank the man. The closest she got was a distracted, "Well done," to the server after they'd delivered the meal to the waiting Elgrior.
She didn't concern herself with his eating, either, instead diving right into her questions as soon as the doors were closed. "When did the town disappear, exactly? How do you know it was the witch who did it? Who is the witch? Why do you think she's returned?" She bombarded him with questions, seemingly unaware of her shadow slowly creeping up the wall behind her. At least it was mirroring her for the moment, rather than turning into a spined thing.
brain-shaped sculpted wooden box 70% x 50gp = 35gp
brass sculpture of an Osirian pyramid 70% x 50gp = 35gp
bookends depicting twin screaming and crying figures 70% x 50gp = 35gp
paintings of the haunted city 70% x 100gp = 70gp
zandulus's sketches 70% x 100gp = 70gp
On the Treatment of Ambitions, Disappointments, and Regrets by Doctor Beaurigmand Trice 50% x 100gp = 50gp
signed copy of Ailson Kindler’s Galdyce’s Guest: Feast of the Nosferatu 50% x 100gp = 50gp
On Violent Sands by Doctor Henri Meirtmane 50% x 100gp = 50gp
Boot's from Angier’s 50% x 200gp = 100gp
gold signet ring with a holly-and-hawk, Millair family. Out of Redleaf lake 50% x 50gp = 25gp
+1 Heavy Steel Shield 50% x 1180gp = 590gp
+1 War Razor 50% x 2308gp = 1154gp
Total = 2264gp
John spends a a couple of hours talking to merchants and haggling over prices. He parts with a number of items, surprised by the interest in some of the bizarre items and books.
He hands over the enchanted shield to a merchant, glad to be rid of the weight and to exchange it for a sack of gold.
Then he sells the Tatterman's war razor to the same man, careful not to handle it with his bare skin in case there is a residual taint on the weapon.
He walks out of the market with Broom's satchel and a sack of gold to spend.
Instead of catching up with his companions, he strikes out across town to visit Binter's Smithy and see what is available in terms of arms and armor.
She didn't concern herself with his eating, either, instead diving right into her questions as soon as the doors were closed. "When did the town disappear, exactly? How do you know it was the witch who did it? Who is the witch? Why do you think she's returned?" She bombarded him with questions, seemingly unaware of her shadow slowly creeping up the wall behind her. At least it was mirroring her for the moment, rather than turning into a spined thing.
"Why do I think the Witch has returned? Everything! What else could it be!?" Elgrior mumbled around his food, which had been served with a general air of disapproval but no verbal objection. He poked his fork in Des's direction with every idea.
"These black paintings on the walls are obviously dark magic. Literally dark, you see. Because they're like shadows."
"All these strangers coming into town, too- obviously witches in league with the Witch herself! Doesn't make sense they'd just show up at the same time as all of this and not be involved."
"And all the people going missing? They're a harbinger of what's to come. Where's the Pharasmin priestess? Where's the magistrate? Where's the COUNT!? All dead, I'll bet! The Witch is probably building up her power before finishing her evil ritual to take us all!"
"Nobody's looking into it! It can't be a coverup, it goes too high! It's got to be magic keeping the Prince's people out of town. And who can do magic like that? Only someone like the Briarstone Witch, back from centuries of undeath!"
Broom regarded the ranting man with her black veined eyes. As he spoke she reached for a cloth to wipe the table where the exuberance of his storytelling had left bits of his meal. She paused awkwardly remembering that she didn't have her pack any more. That also meant that she couldn't offer the man some clean clothes while she washed his.
"Can you tell us what the witch looks like?" she asked before settling on casting her cleaning cantrip to take care of the crumbs. She also considered asking her invisible friend to sweep the floor with her broom, but decided to wait until after Elgrior had finished eating.
Desdemona turned white as a sheet and didn't hear register anything said for several seconds after Elgrior mentioned shadow paintings.
black paintings what shadow oh no paintings witch shadows
After a few moments to review her short-term memory, she pulled herself together and asked faintly, "Yes, very compelling. Tell us about the witch's appearance, of course, as Broom has asked, but also please tell us about the missing people, the strangers who have arrived... and... and the black paintings. What are they? Where are they? Have you seen them?"
She managed to stop spewing questions about the paintings and grit her teeth, holding back her fear. Behind her, her own shadow loomed large on the wall.
Nasmith shook his head. "I haven't seen her, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here, would I? She floats through the town at night, snatching people off the street. But Toli's seen where she lives, seen her glow coming from the shore just outside town. Probably where she does her foul rituals, preparin' to take us all into the shadow world of witches and demons."
"She's taken dozens, maybe more, and when she takes some she shows the rest of us what we can expect on the other side- those paintings, those, those murals, thrown onto the walls of buildings like shadows, not paint like a mortal would use. A gloomy, haunted city where no right minded man could live, where things lurk in the dark and no mortal dares to walk the streets."
"As for the strangers, there's a pair of nobles staying at the Silver Wagon. Been there for weeks. What's there for them to be doing here in Thrushmoor, huh? Leading a witch's coven, is what I say! They're up to no good, they're in cahoots with the Witch!"
John walks the streets, headed to the smithy in no particular hurry.
He is bothered by how familiar everything seems, but that he doesn't have clear memories of the place.
He keeps an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
In broad daylight, nobody seemed to want to give John any trouble. Nobody seemed to want to talk to him, either. It didn't take long for him to get to the smithy- he heard the ringing of hammer on metal before he saw the workshop. Oddly, the smithy had a well watered lawn out front, on which were an assortment of vases and decorative ornaments displayed on the manicured grass.
Through the open front wall of the building, John saw that there were multiple anvils inside, with one half of the workshop dominated by creative metalworks like what was on the lawn, and the other half displaying the usual blacksmithing works- utilitarian metal items along with weapons and armor.
Only one anvil was in use at the moment, on the utilitarian side of the shop. While a heavily muscled male dwarf was working the forge, his back to John, a female dwarf was sitting in the front of the shop, head down and sketching in a book with a mug of some steaming liquid close to hand.
"Good morning my friends!" John says.
"I am looking for Binter's Smithy. Is this the place?"
"I am in need of weapons and armor."
The woman looked up from her sketchbook. John could see that she was planning out some sort of sculpture like what was out on the lawn. "Weapons and armor?" She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, looking John- and more to the point, his visible gear- up and down. "Sure, we've got some. What are you looking for?"
An impossible, alien landscape, miscolored clouds scudding across the sky and painting the world below in somehow threatening dappled shadow; something enormous moving on the horizon, large as the moon.
Desdemona's gaze sharpened, and she pinned Elgrior with it. "Show us these paintings. Do they seem centralized somewhere in town? Then we shall confront the nobles at the Silver Wagon. Give us their names and descriptions."
Blinking, she realized she'd made the statement without consulting her allies. Suddenly in doubt, she glanced at Broom and Reine questioningly. "Once John has returned, we might take a look at that shore as well," she added, the uptick in her voice making it a question.
"I can't help but admire the craftsmanship of the artwork here." John says.
"I'd heard tell that other craftsmen might be sufficient for common items, but that for truly exceptional pieces you were the right person to talk to."
"Seeing your work first-hand, it looks like the talk around town was right. This is all exceptional work."
An impossible, alien landscape, miscolored clouds scudding across the sky and painting the world below in somehow threatening dappled shadow; something enormous moving on the horizon, large as the moon.
Desdemona's gaze sharpened, and she pinned Elgrior with it. "Show us these paintings. Do they seem centralized somewhere in town? Then we shall confront the nobles at the Silver Wagon. Give us their names and descriptions."
Blinking, she realized she'd made the statement without consulting her allies. Suddenly in doubt, she glanced at Broom and Reine questioningly. "Once John has returned, we might take a look at that shore as well," she added, the uptick in her voice making it a question.
Nasmith nodded eagerly. "Finally someone wants to do something! Of course, of course, lady!" He scrambled to stand up, leaving half his plate unfinished. "I think there's a mural not too far from here!"
The dwarf woman smiled at John. "My friends do good work, that's for sure. Better than what you'll see at a human blacksmith, no offense. We're just built different. More focus, you see." She shook her head and sighed. "That's why dwarfmade gear commands a premium, you understand. You look like a man who values the quality of his gear. Lives and dies by it, I'd wager. This is the best you'll find this side of the Hungry Mountains."
Broom looked quizzically at Des "We are interested in the paintings as well, but what do nobles have to do with anything? Shouldn't we go look for the glowing lady we saw last night? She seemed witch like."
Reine had just been listening. When the man stood up, she merely looked at Des. When the latter seemed determined to check out the murals, Reine nodded.
"People aren't always what they appear to be, Broom," Reine said, "We'll probably check out all of it, just to be safe."
"If there are oth... um, strangers in town, we should leave nothing to chance. I don't believe in coincidence." Desdemona smiled at the two. "Let's gather our things. I'll leave a note for John with the butler."
Nasmith stared at Broom. "You saw the Witch and lived?"
***
Once they were done in the Sleepless Agency, Elgrior Nasmith led the trio to a mural. It really wasn't far, only four buildings away to the east. The mural wasn't painted. It was more like shadows had somehow been imprinted on the wood, like a brand without fire.
There, on the side of a house, was a black, shadowy image of hauntingly familiar buildings. They had all seen this city before, in their dreams back on Briarstone. They'd all died there once before.
"This is nice work." John says as he looks over the weapons available.
He selects a specially crafted breastplate and a well-wrought spiked gauntlet out of her stores.
Then he pulls a longbow with an especially heavy draw off of the wall.
"I think these will do to fit my needs."
He pays the dwarf 1260gp to cover the cost of the goods (+10%)
"I just got back into town after being gone for a time." John tells the dwarf.
"Any trouble around here lately?"
The woman snorted as she counted out the coins. "Nothing but. People just disappear off the streets, the Count abandons town, our militia quit... Luckily we dwarves can defend ourselves."
Desdemona was fascinated to the point where she nearly forgot to breathe. Was this where her curse had come from?
"We really must find this Witch," she murmured, fingers tracing the buildings as she peered at them from inches away.
"I wonder... if things like the... the thing in tatters that we all saw, if it's a thing that comes from this place?"
Eventually she allowed herself to be torn away from the bizarre murals, but it took an effort of will. She walked as if in a daze, completely distracted by her thoughts.
"Planar alignments. Suppluxation of the dimensions. What does it all mean? Hmm? Oh, yes. The nobles. Let's see what they know."
Broom fell silent as she peered at the scene depicted on the wall. She carefully poked at the cityscape trying to determine if the picture was charred into the wood or of it was some kind of pigment. "When did this appear here?" she asked quietly.
Nasmith stared at Broom. "You saw the Witch and lived?"
"That's been a theme lately," Reine said. "People with a reputation for being badasses keep not killing us, and we keep killing them, instead. Not a great career path, I guess, but it beats the alternative. Come on," she gave Nasmith a smile, "let's go look at this mural."
*****
"Still looks like a lousy place," Reine said, her eyes narrow as she looked at the mural. "And why do I think we're going to have to kill someone again?"
John nods along with the dwarf.
"Any idea why the militia quit?" he asks.
"Do you know if the fort is recruiting? I'm pretty handy with a blade."
John nods along with the dwarf.
"Any idea why the militia quit?" he asks.
"Do you know if the fort is recruiting? I'm pretty handy with a blade."
She shook her head. "I heard they hadn't been paid in months. Makes sense to me- mercs, right? I don't know anything about them recruiting, but stands to reason if they hadn't been paid they wouldn't have anything to pay you, either. Guess it couldn't hurt to ask, though."
Broom fell silent as she peered at the scene depicted on the wall. She carefully poked at the cityscape trying to determine if the picture was charred into the wood or of it was some kind of pigment. "When did this appear here?" she asked quietly.
Nasmith shook his head. "This one? I don't know. But people started seeing them... two weeks ago? Something like that. They're all over town." The mural itself was strange. It wasn't painted or drawn, it was just a discoloration that happened to be in the distinct shape of a city skyline.
"Two weeks ago?" Broom pondered this for a moment. "Well, this is the Tatterman's city, where he killed us about that long ago. But then uhhhh... something happened to Zandalus and the Tatterman got free, but we managed to defeat him so We don't think any more of these should be showing up any more. Right?" she said, turning to Des and Reine for confirmation.