Even Pip is a little disappointed to leave the silver behind - but perhaps Stephen had a point. He pats his dogs on the head with a smile. "It wouldn't be any trouble to stop in and inform them ourselves. Couldn't take more than a quarter hour, at the most. They might know something more about the daemons and dead things, too. Troubles from their past coming back to haunt them, maybe? At the very least, maybe they'll give us the a-okay to repossess some of their friends' things. For, you know, safekeeping. Or safe-finding. Or something."
"I'm with Stephen about the silver," Rafaello says, "but I agree with Pip that we should check in at the Inn first. I have a few questions for Verus and Branda. They might know more about what's really going on here."
He looks up at the rest of the group. "Galoria? Kien? What do you think?" And then, scratching his head, he murmurs: "Wait, are we missing someone?"
Galoria shrugs. "I suppose if you insist on leaving the silver here - not that there's anyone around to make use of it. I agree with Piper; seeing our errand-givers may give us more to this story than we have now. Perhaps they didn't trust us; with the fluid, they will hopefully trust us more - perhaps for some silver."
And, there may be a reward...
With little else to do within the Alchemist's abode, it was agreed that the next course of action would be to report their findings to the remaining members of the Golden Watch. Upon leaving the confines of Taergan's comfortable home, the Party returned to the sleepy neighborhood and bound for the Swordpoint Inn once more.
Several moments later, they had entered the expensive Inn and were about to make their way to the parlor until a curious voice caught their attention. Gerald who was the owner of the Swordpoint Inn was an elderly fellow who had welcomed the Party earlier with their meeting with the Golden Watch.
”Ah, you must be the individuals of whom the spoke about” said an older gentlemen who was situated behind a lavish counter. He traced a finger along an empty page and began to write a new entry as he addressed the group. The owner of the Swordpoint Inn seemed aloof as he handled his clerical duties. ”I'm afraid that you have just missed and , they had left in a considerable hurry. Such a shame really. They're probably my best patrons.” said Gerald who had occupied himself with the Inn's ledger.
Rafaello digs one of his bottles of fine wine out of his bag and hands it over.
"Enjoy it. Responsibly, of course."
Rafaello groans. "And I don't suppose you managed to catch where they were headed, did you, good sir?"
"Did they leave any sort of message for us?" And then, with a twitch of his eyebrow, he asks: "They told us they'd be waiting here in case Taergan Flinn arrived. Did he, perchance?"
Turning to his companions, Rafaello shrugs. "Now what? This is becoming quite the conundrum..." If my better half were here, perhaps she could sort all of this out, he thinks.
While still keeping his eyes focused on the ledger, Gerald replied in a casual tone. ”Afraid not, sonny. Something seemed to grab their attention, though I can't blame them, they're heroes after all. I remember they looked fully equipped and they seemed to be interested in acquiring horses.”
Allowing a small drip of saliva to moisten a quill, the owner of the Swordpoint Inn continued to make marks along the page. He continued this for a moment until he had drained his current amount of ink. ”OH! Forgive me!” he said while breaking focus with the book and ruffling through papers underneath the counter. ”Branda was kind enough to leave this for yall. I hope that it's of some use.”
Gerald extended a small sheet of tanned vellum, which was folded several times and bore the words To our aspiring heroes. It looked much like the same paper that Igneous had been sketching on earlier in the day.
”Oh, they had left their rooms , should you wish to stay there.” said Gerald as he refilled his quill.
|
"Great. Now we've got everyone running around in different directions. At least we maybe know Taergan isn't dead. 'Course, they're probably walking in to a trap."
He sighs and shakes his head.
"Quite unhappy about the...", he looks at the owner of the inn and lowers his voice, "escaped demon, but I don't want to spend a week hunting it down, either. Any ideas on that?"
The mention of the cacaodaemon sourced the excitement Galoria had at the news - Something curious...
"I'm not chasing after flying devils!" she snapped. "Besides..." She gave the letter another quick glance. "What better way to ruin a trap than to trap the trappers? Why won't we follow in Branda's footsteps and provide them the support they may need?"
Damned creatures getting in my head. And he wants to chase them?!.
"Great. Now we've got everyone running around in different directions. At least we maybe know Taergan isn't dead. 'Course, they're probably walking in to a trap."
At behest Galoria's small outburst, Gerald interjected with what he felt was appropriate.
”With that attitude sonny, you're allowing no hope at all. This is the we're talking about! They're the stuff of legends and bard's tales!"
Taking a sip from a nearby chalice, Gerald spoke once more, making eye contact with the party.
he said with his eyes wide from terror.
Gerald settled down after Stephen's quick interjection.
"Well...I guess that's NOT so bad. It'll be a shame if someone didn't get their letter.." he said while resuming his book keeping. As the group continued to talk among themselves, the owner offered a bit of advice while turning a page.
"Might be in your best interest to let the town know what's going on. I can't imagine how the youngsters would feel if they knew the Golden Watch wasn't staying in town" said Gerald with a small chuckle.
"Seems they want us to check in on Dern before we head out to meet them," Rafaello says quietly. "Whether or not we go pigeon-chasing or not, it's probably best if we make our way over to Mother's Care and check in on the poor fellow. In any case, we should be quick- even as experienced as the Golden Watch are, I don't love the thought of letting them face Flinn's captors alone."
"And if someone's after Flynn, it's likely that Dern's in trouble too. A shame they didn't leave a more specific note..." Pip shrugs, taking the communal note and stuffing it into his kind-of sort-of bottomless pack for safekeeping. "I am a little worried about our good carrier pigeon, but I think we can all agree we've got bigger problems."
Pipernortin turns to Gerald as his companions head out the door, offering the man a quick wink and a grin. "Besides, it wasn't a devil, demon, or pigeon. Just a little daemon... So don't sweat it!" With a laugh, Pip scoots out the door before the news can really sink into the poor innkeep.
As the party left the building, Gerald's face flushed at Pipernortin's comment. Doing his best to keep his composure, he puffed, and quickly fastened his attention to book keeping.
It quickly became clear that something foul has stricken the Golden Watch, as Branda and Igneous had left a note summoning their young wards to join them in the Verduran Forest. With their task clear at hand, the party decided that the next best course of action was to investigate the whereabouts of the Golden Watch's cleric, Dern Fosimuth, an aging man who was last reported in the next town over, Hope's Hollow.
Unaware of the events to follow, the party left with great haste. Bounding eastward from Cassomir, the party found Hope's Hollow with rather ease. At the town's limit stood a rickety old sign that seemed to look as beaten and derelict as the community that stood before it. Upon it's face bore red paint that read, “Hope is Hollow”. Just within range, it became clear that Hope's Hollow appeared to be a ghost town. In stark contrast to the livelihood and proclivity of Cassomir, very few souls walked the dirt roads of Hope's Hollow. Houses were boarded up, lampposts were either broken or missing, and a biting wind seemed to pass through the town knocking around any signs and boards that weren't secured.
Somewhere within this living ghost town was Dern Fosimuth, if he was still alive.
Pleased they were not following the "pigeon," Galoria was more than happy to head to find the other missing body ... er, person - even if it wasn't her suggested course of action. "Hardly anyone about. Shouldn't be difficult to find him. If, that is, he's alive."
She poked her head into a few establishments where the windows had not been boarded.
"I'm sure he's fine!" Although, to be fair, even the overly enthusiastic gnome was having a little trouble buying that. Daemons and alchemists and old guys, oh my!
There was a song there somewhere, Pip suspected. A song for another day.
For now, there was a song for this... Pulling his fiddle from his pack, Pipernortin plays the same tune as before, but a great deal slower, his words lacking the same playful emotion it had before.
"While once they were bold,
All end decrepit and old;
Their legend, all oversold?
Lo, the Golden Watch!"
With a pause, he looked at his two canine friends, who looked as depressed as the song. The gnome offered a shrug.
"Well, I'll be damned. This place'll suck the fun out of anyone. Let's make this quick."
Taking in the gloom of Hope's Hollow, Rafaello takes his holy symbol in hand and mutters a prayer. "Shelyn, bless this place without beauty. It could use your touch."
Rafaello begins looking around for Mother's Care, hoping to make this visit quick.
Allowing a quick moment to search your mind, you were able to recall some facts about Hope's Hollow, most of which were rumors and random facts that you learned during your travels. It seemed that at one point, Hope's Hollow was a thriving agrarian community that lived within the shadow of Cassomir, and that it's inhabitants were part of a tight knit society. Nothing remarkable comes to mind when thinking of this town, but judging by it's recent state, something terrible has happened.
While standing at the town's limits, you scanned the nearby buildings for any signs indicating Mother's Care Home for Invalids. Though few signs stood, you were quite certain that the large building striking the horizon may be where your destination lay.
When compared to Cassomir, Hope's Hollow seemed like a broken reflection of what a Taldan city ought to be. The once functioning town was bereft of any order as few souls walked it's paved roads and silence seemed to fill every niche. You did however managed to find perhaps..two establishments (if they were considered it). One was a small general store where a shopkeeper stood behind a broken counter with a heavy crossbow within reach. The shop's sign was broken and cracked, but at one point it read – Gibralter's Goods. It lacked any real supplies, perhaps only few items left. The other business was a chandlery (a candle store) whereby all their goods were locked behind panes of glass and the owner was a brutish looking man wielding a spiked club.
You quickly gained the impression that business was not a good thing around here...
Hope's Hollow at one point was a thriving agrarian community living within the shadow of Cassomir but has fallen to hard times recently. Due to it's size, the once great Taldan Empire had completely overlooked this small town, which probably adds to it's broken state.
Cattle wander, weeds grow all over the place, and every building looks like it weathered a horrible storm. You believe that this was a recent addition.
As the party was scanning the town for any clues of Dern Fosimuth's whereabouts, Pipernortin, Galoria, and Captain Andoran noticed something strange. There was a woman who was walking towards them, probably Qadiran by her clothes and dusky complexion, she seemed to be talking to herself with occasional sobs and angry outbursts. Interesting enough, she doesn't break her stride or state as she seems to walk straight through the “Hope is Hollow” sign and bounds for Pipernotin. Her face is tear stained and sorrowful.
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Fiddle still in hand, Pipernortin notices the approaching figure out of the corner of his eye.
He offers a quick bow, "Ah, a fan? And I've only just come to this lovely town..." She approached a little closer, and looked decidedly less happy than he'd initially thought. "Oh. A critic. Of course."
Clearly distracted by the state of Hope's Hollow, Rafaello is slow to react to the approaching woman.
Pipernotin 23
Drips / Pavlov 18
Kienyach 16
Monster 13
Galoria 12
Captain Andoran
Rafaello 2
The sad woman begins to float as if held by supernatural grace and rises to about 15 feet in the air before directing her attention upon Pipernotin, who seemed ever joyful and happy.
”He was lost to me...I couldn't pay for his debts..”
Her voice was as if someone caressed a stringed instrument with glass, her voice was a wail that seemed to penetrate the very fibers of the village.
- - - - - - -
Combat DMPC Priorities:
1. If there is a clean shot, Galoria would use her bow.
2. If not, she will move to an area where this is possible.
3. If neither 1 or 2 apply, then she will draw a blade and move into melee.
4. In the event none of the above seems effective, she will attempt to retreat or utilize the environment to her advantage.
Out of combat, she prefers caution and stealth to brash actions. More of a talker than a forcer, you will not find her breaking down doors. Lockpicking them, however, is another matter entirely.
Galoria took several steps backward as her mouth agaped.
”How! This is a settlement just out of Cassomir!” she said while reaching for her bow. The ranger wasn't quite sure what the crying woman meant until she had passed through the sign and the sensation had creeped her out.
First cacodaemons, monsterfied humans, and now this...emphermeral humanoid. Only Taldor...
Unsure if the humanoid meant harm, Galoria had prepared her bow should the situation go south. ”Can anyone reason with her? There has to be a reason why she's crying!”
Staring up at the now-floating woman, Pip swallows a lump in his throat.
"These critics are really getting serious..." Thinking on his feet, Pipernortin quickly tries to recall any stories he might have heard about evil, flying critics... but comes up a little shorter than he'd have liked.
Dropping back a few feet, Pip lifts his fiddle and watches the woman with a vengeful musician's glare. He takes the bow, takes a bow, and begins to play a quick tune at double-time.
"Well, how about this?"
Kienyach charges in, closing the gap and swinging a quick haymaker.
It was queer to her the shopkeepers remained at their counters without any real wares to sell. Or buyers to buy. "Something is afoul here," guessed the ranger. Not long after she made her conjecture though, it was confirmed.
"A GHOST!" The encounter with the cacaodaemon had already unnerved her. She assumed the woman's levitation made her part of the supernatural as well. This was not an encounter she wanted...
Pipernotin 25
Drips / Pavlov 20
Kienyach 18
Galoria 14
Captain Andoran 14
Monster 13
Rafaello 4
1. Doing his best to appease his audience of one, Pipernortin produced his bow, took a bow, and started his performance. Perhaps music would help cheer her up, he silently hoped.
2. Kienyach drove forth, and swiped at the ghostlike woman, knowing better than to allow the welcoming committee the first attack.
3. Captain Andoran moves infront of Pipernortin, shield raised, and freedom rising.
4. The ghost woman rose with supernatural grace, and seemed to smile as Pipernotin shuddered.
Despite being in the warm Taldan air, it felt as if a ray of frost touched your soul, sapping away your happiness.
5. Upon seeing Pipernortin's reaction, Galoria loosed her bow, but found that her shot passed through the woman.
- - - - - -
- - - - -
Upon receiving a sample of Pipernortin's essence, the ghost wails once more, speaking in cryptic verses.
”He used to call me his sunshine. How he loved his Sahba...but now...”
In a fit of rage, the ghost lady dives from the air, and homes in on Pipernortin with her hands outstretched.
”I COULDN'T SAVE HIM!!!!”
Kienyach flurries the ghostly woman. This is an abomination.
Perhaps the cacaodaemon from earlier had steeled her resolve; Galoria managed to fend-off her fear for now, taking a few paces and her bow back, notching an arrow, and letting it fly at the unnatural creature. Its levitation allowed for an easier target.
"Begone, specter!"
Pip's complexion grows a little pale as the woman's voice echoes through his ears... and almost causing him to miss a note! That was unlike him!
"The harshest of critics, I see... It pains my very soul!"
Letting the last few notes of his performance hang in the air, the gnome danced backward in a spin, rapidly playing a few broken notes on his fiddle. As he stopped another dozen feet backward, his form seemed to twist and blur, occupying more - or less - space than it should have.
The little master looked weary, and that was unusual. He usually had more energy than a pup! Drips and Pavlov slowly moved their gaze from the master, to the floating woman, to the master again.
Was the floating one hurting master?
Following at Pip's heels, the pair of dogs began to burst out, barking at the attacker.
Zinthar walks the road alone. His last adventuring group had worked well together, and had certainly had some laughs, but he never truly connected with any of them. So after a lucrative delve into a crypt and a few weeks spent in putting his new skills to use the elf is back on his own, this time bound for Casssomir. He has heard good things about the city and is ready to try his mettle there.
Approaching the city from the west he stops at a weathered sign announcing the small town of Hope's Hollow. The elf adjusts the shortbow on his shoulder as he considers his choices. The allure of Cassomir told him to keep going, that his destination is close at hand, but something about this sign catches his attention and will not let go. Before he even realizes it his feet have left the main road and he is walking up the street into the quiet town.
But all is not quiet. Just up the road, barely into the town itself, Zinthar sees a group of people. Their voices drift toward the elf and while he cannot hear the words the tone is very clear: there is trouble afoot and they are in the middle of it.
He starts approaching, cautious to avoid trouble himself but ready to help if needed. The group ahead continues to move as if in battle, the voices getting louder and now joined by the barking of at least one dog if not more.
The small crowd parts for a brief instant and Zinthar's elven eyes catch a glimpse of what they are facing. Even though he is at least a hundred feet away he can see the shimmering form just as he hears a voice shout "Begone, specter!"
If its a trap, they are the most creative brigands he has ever encountered and they probably deserve his coin. If its not, they need his help and soon. Zinthar reacts instantly, ignoring the bow on his back and falling into the rhythm of spellcasting. Finishing with a flourish he points his hand toward the melee and three glowing bolts shoot from his fingertips. They elongate in the air and take on the appearance of arrows complete with tips and fetchings, but as they streak through the air they weave a course through the embattled group to strike unerringly at the incorporeal creature before them. As soon as the spell is complete Zinthar continues moving forward to close the distance between himself and the battle.
HP: 27/27
Mage Armor active (cast earlier in the day but the duration is 6hrs)
Dancing Lights 3 of 3 remaining
Versatile Evocation: 8 of 8 remaining
Spells Remaining:
0-level (DC15): Ray of Frost, Detect Magic, Message, Prestidigitation
1-level (DC16):
2-level (DC17): Scorching Ray x2, Cats Grace, Burning Arc (DC19)
3-level (DC18): Fireball (DC20), Fly, Haste
Rafaello, startled at the appearance of the creature, raises his holy symbol high. Time to see how the undead creature liked the taste of the Eternal Rose's grace!
Rafaello, seeing Kien leap into the melee, hefts his glaive and jumps in to join him, catching the creature between them if possible.
Seeing the Magic Missiles slam into the ghostly woman, Rafaello glances about for the source, catching only a brief glimpse of the newly arrived wizard.
As the missiles come barraging out of nowhere Kienyach snaps his head over to their source. For your sake I hope you're on our side.
Pip ducks as an array of magical color goes flying over his head and crashing into the ghostly lady sapping his soul.
"By all the gods, please don't be another critic."
The cleric was not the only one surprised by the arrival of a mage.
He seemed to be attacking the ghost also - but the arrival time is too convenient.
"Here to clean up your mess, necromancer? This is what happens when you tamper with the dead!"
Galoria loosed another arrow at the specter.
Pipernotin 25
Drips / Pavlov 20
Kienyach 18
Zinthar 15
Galoria 14
Captain Andoran 14
Monster 13
Rafaello 4
Ephermeral Echo HP: (-3, -4, -3, -14 , -3, -5) 52 / 84
1. Pipernortin, realizing that this apparition was the most foul of critics had something prepared for such occasion. When a fan couldn't be reasoned with, they shouldn't be allowed t lay a finger, or in this case, an incorporeal hand. Taking a step back, it seemed as if the gnome was a reflection upon water!
2. Unnerved by the ghost's presence, Kienyach continued to lay into her, swiping each time with his seasoned fists!.
3. The newcomer, Zinthar arrived just in the nick of time! Producing forth several motes of energy, he fired them towards the apparition and watched her writhe in pain as something had struck her!
4. Galoria loosed another arrow, saw that it followed an arc, but seemed to disappear right through the ghost!
5. With his shield ever ready, Captain Andoran knocks some sense of freedom into the specter, by forcibly applying his standard.
6. The ghost comes upon Pipernortin after being assaulted by the team, and manages to strike him despite his current illusion.
7. And lastly, Rafaello channels the Eternal Rose's energy to bring light, mirth, and positivity! And swung his glaive as well!
- - - - - -
Pipernotin 25
Drips / Pavlov 20
Kienyach 18
Zinthar 15
Galoria 14
Captain Andoran 14
Monster 13
Rafaello 4
Ephermeral Echo HP: (-3, -4, -3, -14 , -3, -5) 52 / 84
As if some trickery from the gods, the ghost becomes solid after absorbing some of Pipernotin's life force of which she wails in pleasure!
”Thy flesh consumed has brought me closer to him! His touch I long for! His smile, the scent of his cologne!”
Ecstatic with newfound pleasures, the ghost turns and notices Rafaello.
”Honey??? Is that you...???” she said while swinging two very real claws upon the cleric.
"And here I thought woman stopped nagging after they died."
"Wha- Ma'am, we haven't even been introduced!" Rafaello stammers, half-jokingly, half-panicked, as the ghostly woman assaults him. "And for that matter, I am a married man! Behave yourself!"
Seeing that the creature has become corporeal, Rafaello attempts to discern its true nature.
Rafaello grits his teeth in frustration, twirls the glaive overhead, and brings it down toward the attacking creature with righteous fury!
"Er- right, then- yes, my dear! 'Tis I! Come, and if you truly love me still, hold there but a moment!" With that, he gestures toward Kien and Stephen to strike.
A little more color fades from Pipernortin's face, and his voice wavers a tad. His already blond hair takes a step towards the pale white of a bleachling...
"Ugh... not feeling too good."
Lifting his eyes to the woman, he sees the ghostly figure solidify slightly, her feet finally touching the ground. Practically growling at the creature that had sapped his vitality, he reached for a weapon he mostly just carried for appearances - his crossbow.
Hefting the weapon as high as he could, he took aim her head and fired.
With her feathered shafts seemingly ineffective against the poltergeist, Galoria set her sights on the wizard. While she did not feel the need to attack him yet, she wanted to keep the pressure on him lest he try anything harmful to them.
Zinthar continues to advance despite being surprised by the woman's reaction. Not only has he never studied necromantic arts, but why would he be attacking the thing if it was his creation? Deciding that the lack of gratitude can be dealt with after the threat is gone he focuses his attention on the creature.
"You have nothing to fear from me, worry about THAT!"
A wry smile crosses his face as he notices the thing solidify. Well now, that improves my options a bit doesn't it? He stops moving just long enough to cast another spell. This time when he points his finger a jet of flame arcs out over the heads of the beleaguered companions and streaks toward the now-less-ghostly woman.
You get...4 questions. Go ahead and ask away!
You get...4 questions. Go ahead and ask away!
2- do I know of any specific energy weaknesses she might have?
3- any special method needed to defeat her?
4- what.......is her favorite color?
2. Does it have any particular weaknesses?
3. What type of undead is it?
4. What creates this type of undead (because that might be important should there be more of 'em around)?