"His daughter, Kendra was the one who summoned me actually," Baradlon replies to Lament. "Presumably because he was my friend, and she knew he'd want me at the funeral."
The tall Garundi bows to the others, "Jaru Toth." Sitting, he sips his mulled wine enjoying the heat and sweetness. "Perhaps it is time for a Harrowing now, Lament. I feel the recent struggle has roused me somewhat."
The goth halfling gets excited again as the priest gives his name and asks for a reading. Yes. Yes, but only if we keep talking about the good professor. Cheers to our friend! Lament holds up her mulled wine to the others and then downs it.
She pulls an old set of Harrow Cards out of her backpack that are saturated with dried blood. You first Jaru.
Lament begins focusing and for the first time since they arrived at the inn she is deathly serious. She shuffles and lays the deck face down. Draw five cards. She fans them out in a semi circle.
Jaru gives a sad smile, "I feel any foretelling will likely involve the professor. Divination has become a rarer art in this Age of Lost Omens. It is one of the three pillars of the Pharasmin faith, but now far too many temples don't even have an oracle and among those, many have gone mad..." Jaru looks at Lament speculatively, but draws his cards without further comment.
Simeon sips some mulled wine, and smiles at its quality. Raising his cup in salute to the proprietor, he addresses 'Nighteyes' "Any summoning done by Kendra was at the behest of the good Professor, I'm as certain of that as I am of the nose on my face. We all know Petros invoved himself in inquiries that he may have been better to avoid. That he has now met his death..." his thought was cut off by his attention being caught by the Harrowing.
Leaning close, his eye flit from dealer to drawer, avidly noting every detail.
"I know very little of what you all know, actually," Baradlon replies to Simeon. "Just how aware of the Professor's less...scholarly...activities are the lot of you?"
Lament takes the five cards that Jaru selected and lines them up face down in a straight line. She places her left hand over each card one by one and concentrates with her eyes closed. Over three of the cards, her hand shakes. On the other two it does not. She opens her eyes and pulls two of the cards aside and then places them in the discard pile. She slowly turns over the first card...
The card depicts an Empty Seat. Hovering around it is a ghost.
"The Empty Throne...It signifies a great leader is lost...The professor perhaps...The ghost signifies that he is with us in spirit...guiding us...we are to carry on his mission now..."
The second card is flipped...It depicts a man wearing a red robe. His face is mostly hidden in the hood. He is wrapped in chains and holds a tome in his right hand.
"The Inquisitor...There is a hidden truth...Information that must be gathered to complete the mission..the knowledge will not come easily though...there will be much danger in its gathering...we will need the struggle...it will refine us for the end"
Her hand shakes violently as she reaches to draw the final card. When she finally places it face up, a supernatural chill fills the air. It depicts a large devil shrouded in flames. His head is tilted up and people are falling into his mouth. He dangles a man in his right hand over his mouth preparing to drop him. As Lament speaks, white vapor like fog leaves her mouth with each word as her warm breath mixes with the newly arrived cold. Each person sees his breath as the cold slowly creeps over them all.
"The Fiend...an evil sign...great evil is loose...each of us represents one of the bodies falling into its throat...Ustalav represents the man dangling...If we do not complete the mission, devastation will occur upon this land"
She leans back and takes a second to look each man in the eye." This is a group reading, not just for Jaru. Our futures have been intertwined through the fate of the professor. I pledge myself to each of you. Fate has decided." Lament slumps in her chair as if all of the life has been drained from her. She breaths heavily with her eyes closed.
Baradlon makes a warding hand gesture against evil when the devil card is turned.
"Fascinating." Simeon mutters, glancing at Nighteye with annoyance, then picking up the Fiend card and showing it to the Elf "'Tis but a card, the evil it portends is elsewhere."
Tossing the card back onto the table, he looks to the tiefling "Well, we've introduced ourselves, perhaps you'd do us the honor as well?"
Lament slowly sits back up, but it is obvious it will take some time to fully recover. Simeon...you of all people should know that evil is not far removed from the card. Divination magics can reach here to this table. Powerful, supernatural beings could be aware of this reading and who is in attendance. The elf is right to ward The Fiend.
She slowly collects the cards and looks up at the tiefling awaiting his response.
Jaru sketches a warding spiral over his chest and then scratches his chin as he sits back. "That was well done, Lament. I believe you have talent. Prophecy is never clear or precise. I don't think the fiend revealed has anything to do with our companion. I must say however, at the risk of offending, that in my land, the Church might well bar a tiefling from attending a funeral. It is well known that devils delight in misleading souls from their intended destiny."
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Lament slowly sits back up, but it is obvious it will take some time to fully recover. Simeon...you of all people should know that evil is not far removed from the card. Divination magics can reach here to this table. Powerful, supernatural beings could be aware of this reading and who is in attendance. The elf is right to ward The Fiend.
"Many believe so, but Theomanus was quite authoritative in his assertion that the danger was during the reading, once the Harrower has finished the danger has ceased." he waves his hand "'Tis no matter, a difference of opinion can be expected. That said, what Jaru said is true, I too recognize talent when I see it."
"So we are bound by destiny to thwart a great evil or die trying? Sounds like a normal day for me..." Baradlong mutters sarcastically, continuing to sip his wine.
Nighteyes...you spoke earlier about the professor's not so scholarly work. What do you gentlemen know about the things he was working on? We should be able to piece together some things by learning about each other's pasts and our relationships with him.
"I know he was particularly interested in the study of the occult, undead and supernatural evil. I have eliminated such threats with his assistance on a few occasions. Mainly lesser undead infestations caused by small time necromancers. You?"
"Well , those subject are a specialty of mine, so the fine Professor consulted with me on many an occasion. He found my opinion helpful in several of his investigations."
Vigilance's attention drifts until Lament brings out the harrow deck. He follows along with the rest and stares emotionless at the fiend card.
"Could have told this much just based on work done for Professor. Searched dark places for darker information. Professor not one to dabble with evil lightly."
The tiefling's yellow eyes glance over the others slowly.
"Also not one to seek darkness lightly. Corruption... too easy to come by. Like alcoholic offered a sip. One sip too much."
You turn in for the night, some of you falling asleep rapidly and some of you quietly talking for a time before you join the rest of your companions in sleep.
Around midnight the horses outside erupt into a cacophony of terrified neighs' with heavy kicking and stamping. The effect jolts you from your sleep, and sends your hands subconsciously grasping for weapons.
You find the coach driver adding wood to the fire, pale and shaking but with a look of determination.
Stay indoors. I'm not sure whats out there but for the moment? It troubles us not - horses, if those are its prey, well... they are replaceable in time.
We Ustalavs have learned at hard cost the safety afforded by the hearth and the wisdom of staying indoors at night, he says sadly.
He shivers, as the wind picks up without, becoming brutal gusts - howling and wailing... and then from some distance away, a thready scream that is cut short. The sound of pounding hooves rattles the very timbers of the inn, approaching at speed...
What do you gentlemen know about the things he was working on?
"I can add little more. The professor seemed interested in Ancient Osiriani secrets and we spoke some of the corporeal undead as well." Jaru finishes tersely. "I hope that his daughter will be able to tell us more."
Jaru stands wearily and wishes the others a good night. He then helps himself to a few blankets before he stretches out on a bench.
*******
At the commotion ourside, the foreigner looks to the others for an explanation.
Baradlon gets up and pulls out his blade, to be ready for anything that might come through the door.
Lament wearily opens her eyes at the loud, abrupt sounds. She had been resting quite well against her pack. She slowly straps her whip to her belt and then places a bolt in her crossbow. "It may be bandits. A show of strength and unity should dissuade them from attacking."
She moves over to the side of the bar and crouches for cover. She readies her crossbow just in case.
Vigilance awakes at the commotion and stands up slowly, grabbing his rapier in the process.
"Show of strength in beating them senseless. Much more effective," the tiefling says in a voice close to a yawn.
He then begins to move to put on his armor and head towards the door.
The thunder of hooves rushes closer and then past the inn... for a moment those closest to the inns door and the wall it is set in experience an extreme anxiety, manifesting and passing too quickly before panic can set in.
The horses sound like they are in a terror inspired frenzy.
Simeon sits up from a sound sleep , head cocked to the side as he listens attentively.
As the "riders" pass his mind works feverishly, rummaging through all the he knows to identigy the phenomenae they just experienced.
Knowledge (Arcana)
Knowledge (Religon)
So did the horses have riders or were they stampeding? Did anyone see?
Baradlon looks at Lament drolly. "We all saw the same thing you did. None of us went outside."
His face pale and lips quivering, Simeon runs his hands over his face and back through his thinning hair.
Taking a deep breath he says "And good that none did, I think. What passed, I know not, but it's passage was felt by us all.". Glancing at Lament, "You may in fact be more right than I gave you credit for, Lament. Your augury may have stirred the pot so to speak."
I was hoping someone was close to a window...
Jaru frowns at the conversation and pulls his blankets tighter. "I do not care to know where it came from or where it was bound. The driver offers good advice, there is no good reason to stir from the hearth tonight." So declaring, he returns to his bench.
Baradlon nods in agreement, sheathing his blade and laying back down, with the sword still held in one hand.
The horses settle but come dawn the coach driver can be heard praying fervently outside, words tripping over each other in a rush to get them out.
Each of the horses tied to the posts outside the inn, have coats damp with sweat, mouths flecked with saliva and stand trembling. The horses, Bays* all when he secured them there last, are now all grey-white...
* (light reddish-brown to very dark brown with black mane, tail, and lower legs)
Baradlon looks down to his own skin, and then at the horses. No, it couldn't be...we'd all be dead now it had been. Whatever his thoughts might be on the matter, he remains silent. An iron hard grimace sets itself on his face. "Let's be off then. I am eager to reach Ravengro."
The horses are nearly good for nothing.
It takes some time to get them into harness, tired as they are, they still resist, desperately trying to get away from this place.
And that's when you hear the screaming. A child's screaming. And it just keeps going over and over and over...
Baradlon's long ears perk up at the sound of the child screaming. He tries to locate its source, and then runs in that direction. He draw his curve blade as he goes. I'm sure the young ones will follow.
Jaru shakes his head as the weirdness continues. He follows the pale elf.
Glad to see the sky lightening as dawn broke, Simeon was visibly shaken seeing the condition of the horses, muttering to himself in a soft sing song voice as he circled one of the pitiful equines, noting any and all details of interest.
The screaming brought his head up suddenly, eyes wide, following Baradlon's figure as he ran off in the direction of the horrible sound.
Taking a faltering breath, Simeon steels himself and follows at a brisk pace.
With her light crossbow and whip at the ready, Lament follows the others.
You all run along... Up the road, beyond the scattered hovels that make up this place stands a girl near a fallen body. She screams over and over, barely able suck in enough breath but her screams lose none of their intensity for it.
You run closer.
The body is soon seen to be headless. The head rests several feet away. A peasant woman, the barmaid in fact, darts out wailing and gathers up the child - holding the small girl tightly to her body.
Closing on the scene you see the body sprawled chest down, congealed and, due to the chill still in the weather, partly frozen. That is bad enough. That its fingers are clawed into the earth, with other deep gouges hinting that the body itself was attempting to drag itself along is worse.
But what chills your blood is the expression on the face of the ring leader of last nights skirmish, whose head this is. The sightless eyes are stark wide, staring and the expression carved into his face is one of purest terror - some of the horror that the man felt in death crawls into your very bones.
Make a DC 13 Will check or lose 1d4 Stability (San)
This is an unadjusted horror check - the body and the gruesomeness of it is enough to trigger it for those not accustomed to such sights by combat and the situation, and the supernaturalness of the death, the messed up expression etc is enough to creep out those who may have seen beheadings in combat before.
Shocking
A more terrifying visage like that of a mutilated corpse, witnessing a scary supernatural event, or being in physical or mental peril has a DC of 13 and a stability loss of 1d4. This is the usual check for normal combat or being subjected to harmful magic. Large numbers of humanoid monsters etc, individual or small groups of corporeal undead, supernatural, hideous or large monsters may qualify for this category.
Lament looks down at the corpse. The freaky little halfling is slightly intrigued and amused by the sight (not that someone died, but that the death was so gruesome). She crosses her arms and rests her chin on one of her hands while she thinks. She asks nonchalantly: "You guys think he crawled before or after he lost his head?"
Baradlon twitches as he beholds the corpse. His mind flashes back to watching his father getting drained by the wraith when he was a child. His father's face had the same exact expression as the one on the dead man before them. Baradlon at first begins to giggle, then he starts to laugh, and within a few seconds is cackling madly while tears roll freely down his face. He sinks to his knees, picking up the head and staring at it intently as he laughs. After several ongoing seconds of this, he is out of breath and slumps forward, allowing the head to roll limply from his hands. He stands up wordlessly, wipes his face off, whips his hair back over his shoulders and strides back to the inn, still twitching a bit.
When the elf collapses laughing, Lament slaps him on the back and giggles with him. "I know right? Kind of tingles in my spine to look at it."
Baradlon ignores her. When he gets up to go back to the Inn, he spares her a glance full of madness and anguish.
Jaru jerks back from the horrible sight. There is so much death in this land. In Osirion it seems so ancient and honorable- bodies prepared for eternity and entombed in pyramids. Here blood spills so freely and unpredictably. He saved this man last night for nothing. The Garundi just stands sobbing for the dead.
Vigilance stares at the body in curiosity; his yellow eyes taking in the blood and gore without expression. Inside the tiefling's mind, however, a small crack starts to etch down the wall his will has made between the evil coursing through his blood and the humanity given to him by the church of Abadar.
"Deserved or not. Murder is crime. Perpetrator not normal criminal however. Easy assumption."
As he is looking over the corpse, a smile of joy begins to slide across the tiefling's mouth. It takes the detective a moment to realize this before returning to his normally taciturn expression. Those paying attention, however, notice a slight shudder arch its way down his back.
"Move away from crime scene. Need to look for clues and gawkers make for distraction."
Vigilance scours the body and the scene with vigor and thoroughness.
Vigilance
You can find foot prints leading from the mans hovel down the road, and then they turn back abruptly and lead back to the location of the body which is heading towards the inn. Normally tracking would prove problematic but the light dusting of snow makes it somewhat easy... so, walking out of home and 'town' for lack of a better word, at night. Gait of the man heading towards the Inn? Indicates he was running.
More impressive are the hoof prints of the horse... the start aways down the road before they are lost but the size of the hoof prints indicate a very large horse - skill at tracking or animal lore could tell you more. Maybe involve the others if they have the skills?
The corpse? He was hit from behind, the angle of the blow is TEXTBOOK for that of a calvary strike - very skilled. More telling? The edge of whatever cut him was razor sharp - it cleaved through flesh and bone effortlessly.
The hoofprints continue down the road and past the inn for maybe 200 yards before disappearing
Will Check
Simeon studies the tableau before them, stroking his chin. Raising an eyebrow at the elf's histrionics, and once again at the halflings inapproriate humour, he crouches down to examine the severed head more closely, only to be rudely moved aside by Vigilance.
A look of annoyance passes over Simeon's face,but quickly passes as he sees the tiefling seems to have some experience with this such scenes; his movements and attention focused and purposeful.
Watching, his eye returns to the face of the dead man Met something more evil than yourself? Or perhaps the fear we see, is that your own evil was mirrored in the face of your killer?
Jaru composes himself as Vigilance completes his investigation. There is a suspicious glint to his eyes as he addresses the tiefling. "The body will need a proper burial. The sooner the better."