On the walk to Harrowstone, Luka offers his shortbow to Trevor, explaining that he has doesn't use it much anyway, preferring to rely on his magic.
Once at the Wardens house, he notices the crumbling structure, and nods in affirmation at Arasmes' warning. Despite it, however, Luka shrugs and says, "it's lasted this long, shortly it can last another half hour or so," and he enters the house.
Back at the library...
Aldous accepted the box with a curious smile. "Ahh Kendra. I have to admit I was needling her a little last night for old times sake- I love seeing her a bit flushed and excitable- but now I can't help but consider her fiery response a challenge." He looks down at the box turning it around from various angles while frowning before cracking the lid, "And thank you for bringing this."
Back at Harrowstone...
Aldous stands outside the crumbling structure apparently hesitating while staring off into nothing.
"Thanks for your bow Luka, I'll make good use of it, I hope! For now, I'll carry the magical arrows and one more potion of curing wounds (2 total). Aldous, on your signal..."
"Just a moment... I think I see something..."
Aldous can see that the inside of the Warden's house has been picked bare. Beyond some torn up floorboards on the ground floor, some scraps of blue cloth and other refuse on the second and a lot of dust there doesn't seem to be much of interest. Everything of any value seems to have been taken out.
At the last moment, Luka holds back, waiting for Aldus to finish his sentence.
Trevor looks at the house, thinking about Arasmes' warning: "From what you say, there is little to find here... Should we risk it anyway." The sound of his voice clearly state that it's not his favorite option...
Luka's eyes scan over the doorway and the broken, crumbling stones as he says, "Perhaps you're right. It doesn't look like we would find anything of value, and we best make use of the day light we have."
"Hmm. Just some tatters of blue fabric. Grab a piece of that if you don't mind. Perhaps it could come in handy as a spirit focus if we attempt to establish contact with the ghost of the warden at some point."
While waiting for one of our bolder party members to make a move, Arasmes gazes past the eldritch abominations that float at the boundaries of his visions, trying to discern any traces of power that have settled around the house. He listens intently, hoping that the voices might whisper any secrets of the old building.
The whispers can offer Arasmes no guidance- nothing with magical or spiritual energy lies within the decrepit house.
Aldous eventually realizes no one is volunteering to fetch a scrap of blue cloth from a dangerous ruin for him and sighs. With a few words of warding and a traced rune through the air in front of him, he steps in lightly and heads directly for a scrap of the fabric he had seen from outside.
Aldous carefully picks his way through the ruined building. The floorboards creak and shudder under even his light footfalls, kicking up clouds of dust.
DM Screen:
Despite some ominous settling, Aldous successfully retrieves the scrap of blue cloth and returns outside unharmed- if a bit dusty.
Aldous tucks the cloth scrap into a leather scroll case and places it back in his pack while retrieving a savory breakfast pastry he'd picked up from a local baker early that morning. "I suppose a map would have been entirely too easy. So where were we..."
The foolish or fearless scholar takes the lead heading back into the prison complex. From the entry hall he deliberately heads in the opposite direction of yesterday's hauntings while rattling on in a belated response to Trevor's question about his lodgings earlier that morning. "Ahh yes. It is comfortable enough and the food is certainly decent. At the moment there are only two other lodgers- a couple of troubadours." A momentary frown crosses his face, but its hard to tell whether that had to do with the troubadours or was in relation to the door he was inspecting. "The innkeeper, Ms Sarianna, seems honest enough and the sheets are clean."
Trevor froze for a moment while Aldous decided to step in the house. He cursed as he couldn't conjure the will to follow up. Come on... Remember the Lady! Show some!
"Good job Aldous, I wanted to follow, but weren't sure if you preferred to move more nimbly. With all my gear, I might have broken something..." His weak attempt doesn't even seem to convince him, as he adds: "I'll follow closely from now on."
At the prison, he moves to guard the bold wizard: "Be sure to step back if something pops up Aldous." He keeps his axe in one hand and a javelin in the other.
Near the door: "Well, I was thinking we have been long enough at Kendra's and should perhaps move to the inn... See anything?"
Finding no sign of traps or any lingering screaming spiritual faces, Aldous opens the door with a creak. You look down a fifty foot stone corridor. On the right hand side, there are four wooden doors and another sturdy wooden door at the very end of the hallway. The corridor itself makes a turn to the right at the end, so there may be more out of sight.
"Let's see how things are at the heart of the prison."
Trevor does is best to stay concentrated, but eventually can't help himself: "Are we gonna do this for every door? What? I'm just asking!"
"Perhaps if we all shouted loudly, we could attract something for you to fight Trevor. Give you something to do while Aldous stares at doors."
Trevor turns and blushes violently, his lips forming a silent "Sorry..."
Aldous simply shrugs with a sly smile, "Well- no. We don't have to."
He steps back and with a flourish shows Trevor to the door. "It is certainly more exciting this way, I'll give you that."
Once again finding the door safe, you push it open to reveal a small office with a table, a rickety chair, scattered papers, a dried up inkwell and a cabinet.
Peering over shoulders, Luka asks, "Do those papers look like anything interesting?"
"That, my friend, is a very good question." He steps in to examine the papers.
"I'll give you a hand, so we can be quick about it," Luka says.
Arasmes hangs back in the hall, rubbing his eyes while scanning the room for any eldritch energies.
Arasmes can find no trace of magical auras within his sight.
The paperwork appears to be day-to-day administration logs: prisoner write-ups and offenses, notifications to government and next of kin about executions/deaths and supply invoices.
"Nothing interesting," Luka says. "Should we try door #2?" After a moments pause, he adds, "and what exactly is our plan, should we come across a ghost or haunt as we did before?"
I've asked that same question about twenty times! I'm curious whether he'll get an answer...
"Are such things susceptible to magic or enchanted weapons?" Luka ponders.
"If I had to hazard a guess, there will be a lot of shouting and running around followed by a disorderly retreat. I thought today we might do well to chart a path around the ghosts as much as we can and hopefully learn something while we are at it."
Didn't get an answer... I'm not the only one then!
A small smile creeps up on Trevor's lips.
"Sooner or later, we are going to have to face what we find," Luka says as he exits the small office and opens the next door, with sword in hand.
You find all four rooms to be much the same- a series of offices, each strewn with paperwork. If you had a mind to, you could collate all the material and get a picture of the noteworthy prisoners and Harrowstone's operations in the final months before the fire. But it seems like information you've already got.
"Gentlemen, we are not hopeless around these spirits. Just horribly overmatched. There is a chance that, perhaps, Aldous or myself will be able to cobble together some sort of solution to whatever spirits we encounter. Remember, I did banish the ghosts that haunted that door. And you all did a fine job of bludgeoning that skull into the ground. We also have the equipment we, ah, borrowed from the Pharasmans. It is not all hopeless . . . and if it is . . . well, I think I might be able to outrun at least one of you. Shall we open the last door at the end of the hall?"
An answer!
Trevor looks at Aldous: "I guess that leaves the door at the end of the hall and whatever is around the corner..."
Luka takes the lead, heading down the hall and and taking a wide angle as he looks around the corner.
Around the corner, you see the hallway ends in a wall of bare stone. A wooden door is on the left wall, just north of the other door.
"So far, so good? Let me go first." Trevor moves in front of Luka and, slowly, walks to the end of the hallway.
"You know that spirits can be invisible . . . " Arasmes trails off as Trevor takes the lead, deciding to stop pestering the paladin for a moment.
Invisible...
Trevor's speed seems to slow down even further, but only slightly.
"Okay, Trevor, which door do you want to try next?"
Trevor looks back at Luka for an instant, blinks, swallows, puts his javelin back on his back, then slowly grabs the handle of the door to the left, at the end of the hallway, gripping with white knuckles his dear axe.
Trevor pushes the door open, trembling ever so slightly. The hinges rasp in protest- or is it warning? What fell horrors could await in this new room? What unholy terror from beyond the grave grips this cold chamber?
Inch by inch, the door creaks open until it finally reveals... a washroom! Not just any washroom, oh no: a washroom that has neither been USED nor CLEANED in nigh-on fifty years! A washroom for ASMODEUS HIMSELF! Wash basins sit in disarray, water-stained and forgotten. And the towels? On the floor, DISCARDED and UN-LAUNDERED with no regard for washroom etiquette!
At the far end is a privy stall door, standing ajar- truly an appalling sight.
If you ever wondered about the Gods, about the essential justice of the universe, this is a room to shake your faith.
Arasmes glances at the mess. "I'm surprised any of this survived the fire, or the passage of time." Assuming he finds nothing, Arasmes turns to the other door: "Would you care to do the honors again, dear Trevor?"
"So far, so good." Luka says, patting Trevor on the back.
"Ah! Just a bathroom! Maybe the ghosts are out today... Okay, next door then."
Trevor seems more confident, yet he pauses for a moment before grabbing the handle.
This spacious room smells of mildew and rot. A long desk and chair sit to the south, while to the northwest a narrow alcove contains a closed safe. Thick layers of dust cover everything in sight.
Luka steps into the room, looking around. "We should probably decide how thoroughly we want to search everything, or whether we went to move quickly to find those involved in the Professor's death," he says.
With that, he rummages through the desk, before moving over to inspect the safe.
It could fairly be said that Aldous was enjoying making a production out of gathering research materials from the found documents and other incidental items along the way. Aged paper was pressed between the pages of his book just so and closed carefully before being replaced in his bag. Bizarre, perhaps morbid knick knacks were bound in strips of fabric and dropped into his scroll case. At the sight of the safe his interest is especially piqued. "Mind if I give it a try?" Aldous kneesll down and opens his pack, rummages around for a moment and pulls out a small shaving kit. He sorts through it looking for something and finally settles on a small metal file and a very long thin pair of scissors.
"Hmmph. This old lock must be rusted. Give me a minute here..."