"I hate to leave you all hanging,"says Alison, pulling on her heavy gloves,"but I'm losing my patience with all these suspicious hayseeds. I get the feeling I'll be chased with a pitchfork any moment now."
She looks around with her different colored eyes, shrugging in her heavy coat despite the relative warmth of the day.
"I'm gonna go talk to that Jominda we met yesterday, talk shop. I'll check in with Kendra, maybe do some research if I can. But I think i'll decline Harrowstone. I don't want to give these people any more reason to look at me funny."
You guys heading to Kendra's to examine your haul?[/ooc]
You part ways with Alison for now, heading down the path from Pharasma's cathedral back across the river. You notice that the statue of Warden Hawkren is once again spotless. Back at the Professor's home you find Kendra sweeping up and going through her late father's clothes, books and other personal effects.
"Ah, you're back! How did it go?", she asks.
Trevor trails behind the group as they move back to the professor's house. They didn't mind walking back and forth, back and forth he thought. Suuuure, they didn't walk around carrying forty pounds of armor and the rest on their shoulders. Plus he had crappy shoes that became slightly too short a few months ago...
"Weren't we supposed to go to the prison this morning? I'm just saying..."
"The day is young yet, but before we go, i'd like to know what we found."
Kendra examines your haul from the crypt, chanting a familiar incantation. While she works, Arasmes occasionally picks up an item and scrutinizes it... a shudder briefly passes through his body and he thereafter matter-of-factly describes the object's importance and powers. In total, you have in your possession:
- 10 +1 arrows
- 5 +1 ghost touch arrows
- 2 +1 undead bane arrows
- 5 potions of cure light wounds
- 2 potions of lesser restoration
- a scroll of detect undead
- 2 scrolls of hide from undead
- a scroll of protection from evil
Within the darkwood case decorated with the scarab seen on the Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye you find three interesting objects- an ornately painted spirit board containing letters in the Taldane alphabet along with the phrases "yes" and "no" along with a triangle of brass with a hole cut out of the middle: this is a brass spirit planchette that can be used to contact the dead. Next to the spirit planchette are ten indentations in the velvet of the box- six of these are missing, the four remaining hold iron and glass vials containing tiny, churning clouds of vapor. These, the scholars explain, are haunt siphons used to contain and remove fell spirits.
Brass Spirit Planchette
To use a spirit planchette, you must rest your fingers lightly upon the planchette’s surface and then concentrate on the planchette (as if maintaining a spell with a duration of concentration) for 2d6 rounds while the planchette attunes itself to the ambient spirits of the area. After this time, the planchette begins to slowly slide in random patterns across the board—at this point, questions may be asked of the spirits by any of the individuals involved in the séance. The consequences of each question asked of the spirits depends upon what type of planchette is used for the divination, as summarized on the tablebelow. The spirits reply in a language understood by the character who asked the question, but resent such contact and give only brief answers to the questions. All questions are answered with “yes,” “no,” or “maybe,” or by spelling out a single word from the letters arranged on the board. The spirits answer each question either in the same round the question is asked (in the case of a yes, no, or maybe answer) or at a rate of one letter per round (in the case of a single word being spelled out). A spirit planchette may be used once per day—the maximum number of questions you can ask with it depends on the type of planchette being used (as detailed on the table below).
Communication with spirits can be a dangerous task, for many spirits are jealous or hateful of the living. Every time a spirit planchette is used, the user must succeed on a Will save to avoid being temporarily possessed and harmed by the angry spirits. In some areas where the spirits are particularly violent or hateful (such as in Harrowstone), this Will save takes a –2 penalty. The DC of this save depends on the type of spirit planchette being used. Anyone who fails the Will save becomes confused for a number of rounds (depending on the type of planchette being used), and no answer is received. The spirits in the area are not omniscient—the GM should decide whether or not the spirits would actually know the answer to the question asked, and if they do not, the answer granted is automatically “maybe.” If the GM determines that the spirits are knowledgeable about the answer, roll d% to determine whether the spirits speak truthfully or whether they lie.
This brass planchette can contact lesser spirits to answer one question per use.
Haunt Siphons
To capture a haunt’s energies within a haunt siphon, you need only twist the metal casing to open the vial in the same round that the haunt manifests (a standard action)—this can be before or after the haunt has acted. You must be within the haunt’s area of influence to use a haunt siphon. When you activate a haunt siphon, it deals 3d6 points of positive energy damage to a single haunt. If it deals enough damage to the haunt to reduce the haunt’s hit points to 0, the mist inside the haunt siphon glows green—if it does not reduce the haunt to 0 hit points, the haunt siphon is still expended and becomes nonmagical. It may take multiple haunt siphons to destroy powerful haunts. A haunt that is neutralized by a haunt siphon takes a –5 penalty on its caster level check to manifest again after its reset time passes.
A haunt siphon that neutralizes a haunt can no longer be used to harm haunts, but it can be used as a grenadelike splash weapon that deals 1d6 points of negative energy damage with a direct hit. Every creature within 5 feet of the point where the haunt siphon hits takes 1 point of negative energy damage from the splash.
Trevor crashes loudly in the best chair when they finally get to the Professor's house. He grunts as he removes his boots and moves his toes for a while, as if pumping blood back in them.
As some of his companion turn and look at him, frowning, he bursts: "Ah! Ah! Ah! I know! Sorry, but my boots are old and I stepped in a puddle of water on yesterday. They're still wet. I need a new pair, but my feet are too big and they always try to charge me extra."
As the group concentrates on the newfound items, Trevor thinks to himself, looking at Evelyn: And I don't have a bow... He tenses as Kendra and Arasmes explain the functioning of the Planchette: I could use this to speak with Rafan. I miss her so much! I could ask if she's forgiven me...
"I've never seen so much wealth in my life! This is powerful magic!"
Luka watches while Kendra and Arasmes work, content to let them identify the items. As they finish, a satisfied grin spreads across his face. "That's certainly a useful cache. I wonder why Father Grimburrow didn't know about it?" he muses, before taking a seat and smiling at Trevor. "We'll get you some new boots young man, afterall, you have an inheritance coming to you." Turning back to the others, he looks to each and asks, "So how should we go about this? Any particular items anyone wants to claim?"
"Well, I have no expereince with that creepy board or those vials, but i am a fair shot with my bow, and those arrows would certainly help."
"I don't have a bow. I guess you should keep the arrows..."
Trevor looks a tiny bit disappointed.
"You can carry the potions," Arasmes suggests as he picks up the Spirit Planchette and Haunt Siphons. "Does anyone mind if I fidget a bit with these? I guess I could also take these scrolls. I have a feeling I can use them."
"So, what's our next step. Do we need to do some more research, or should we head to the prison?"
Trevor smiles to Arasmes: "I'm not complaining, really. I think we should share the potions. I'll take those."
He stands and puts a potion of Cure light wounds and Lesser restoration in his pack, then crashes back in the chair, looking through the window to figure out how late it is.
"I would suggest we each take a healing potion," Luka says, "and I have a bow as well, although I don't use it much. Evelyn is welcome to the arrows. If I think I might need some, I'll ask. As for the scrolls, that's fine Arasmes. I've always some ability with detecting undead."
"I would suggest we each take a healing potion," Luka says, "and I have a bow as well, although I don't use it much. Evelyn is welcome to the arrows. If I think I might need some, I'll ask. As for the scrolls, that's fine Arasmes. I've always some ability with detecting undead."
Luka:
Trevor stands up once more: "That's a good idea!" He hands a potion of Cure light wounds to each and gives the Lesser restoration to Luka.
"All right then! Are we all set? Is it time to go to Harrowstone?"
He goes to the window to look at the road. His feet were killing him and he just hope it won't be a hot humid sunny day, with a dusty road and loud cicadas...
Evelyn sorts the arrows and places them in her quiver. "I'll try to use these only when we need them. And luka just grab what ya need, they'll be right here."
Taking a few moments to arrange her gear, evelyn then shoulders her pack and bow.
"So harrowstone anyone?"
"Let's get going before it gets any later."
Arasmes shrugs and begins to gather his gear. "I hope our strength in numbers makes up for our lack of knowledge."
Kendra wishes you all luck as you depart once more, bags heavy with the tools scavenged this morning. You head south from the Professor's house, past another message post and further out of Ravengro. By now it's early afternoon, still hot and sticky as summer reluctantly releases its hold on Ustalav. You follow a partially overgrown track south out of town toward a barren hill crowned by the brooding remains of Harrowstone. Through a gap in its crumbling and ivy-choked stone walls, you can see the stark sagging roof of its central structure. Your path winds around the hill, affording a view of Harrowstone from every side. The eastern portion of the stone wall enclosing the prison grounds has sunk into the hill top, since filled in with muddy water to form a large pond.
The birds that sang so merrily in Ravengro seem to have forsaken Harrowstone- the hill is silent, your every footstep an intrusion on the hush that surrounds the ruins. The path finally deposits you at the south facing entrance to the grounds. A sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
Trevor was happy to get moving, but the heat of the day caught him by the feet and his resolve drained away as they walked towards the prison. As Harrowstone slowly showed itslef in all its gloom, a sense of dread slowly crawled up his mind, replacing the feet-focused thoughts.
He takes in the sight and sighs. He is not as sure anymore. "We're going in that place?"
His thoughts wander as he scans the area: Why don't I have a bow?! And decent boots!?
As the make their way up the path to the old prison, Evelyn looks about, for signs of recent passage
"Well, shall we head in," Arasmes asks. "I suppose I'm as ready to die." Arasmes gazes at the gates, listening.
You find no signs of recent passage in your quick glance around, nor any traces of magic.
Trevor turns to Evelyn for instructions: "Do you prefer me covering the rear or the front?"
Standing just beyond the guard towers inside the gate, it must come as a surprise to hear someone clear his throat to get your attention from within one of the towers. A man's soft voice remarks dispassionately, "You are blocking my view."
Just inside the remains of the southern watchtower a slight almost delicate man with a tangled nest of brown hair framing a face lost in concentration is sitting on a stone slab with an open book on his knees and a quill in one hand. He stops to take a sip from a steaming mug with his free hand then placing the mug back on the slab beside him glances at you briefly with wide green eyes and shoos you to the side.
He could be a native of Ustalav, but there is something exotic about his features at the same time. For one thing his thin mustache looks to be about all the facial hair this young man is ever likely to grow, whereas the average village boy of Ustalav could begin growing his first beard by seventeen. And the eyes are both large, intense and almost entirely green with the white barely showing in the corners.
The stranger goes back to sketching something in his book. His clothes are frayed and wrinkled, but are (at least when they were new) too nice for Ravenegro. The burgundy vest trimmed in gold is stained and unwashed and his loose black leggings have seen better days. He doesn't appear to be armed other than the knife at his belt, but an open pack lays on the ground next to him.
Stepping aside then slowly approaching the stranger, Evelyn peers down at him.
"interesting view you pick to sketch"
"Indeed, it's no business of mine, but people have been known to die here at Harrowstone. And those folks that don't, they're usually up to something depraved. So which one are you?" Arasmes says harshly to the stranger.
The artist purses his lips and absentmindedly taps one ink-stained finger against them. "Only two choices? Hmmm. Well... I didn't come here to die, so mark me down for some kind of delightfully wicked depravity. We all get up to a little of that sooner or later if life is good, but I suppose I'll have to think of something suitably exciting to mark the occasion..." Aldous trails off there for a bit obviously considering various scenarios with a queer little half-smile playing over his face. After a few seconds he looks up and seems almost startled to see you still there staring at him, "Oh my! Where does that leave you all? Tragic love quadrangle in a suicide pact? Or maybe you came up for a touch of the ole depravity as well? Ohhhh! Could I be sitting in your little opium den without realizing it?! The place could use a little work. Some pillows at least!"
From the back of the group, Trevor's head keeps popping up, as he can't really get a good look at the stranger. His heart nearly jumped when the artist cleared his throat.
As the conversation goes in directions he finds hard to follow, he relaxes somehow and takes a look at the shoes the stranger is wearing... If he attacks us... No, he's way too small!
Finally catching on about the opium: No, no, nothing like that! We are here to investigate. There is a mystery to be solved here. Say, do you come here often? ... I mean, do you know your way around this place? We are looking for the place where they found the good professor's body."
Trevor's face blushes somewhat as he realizes he might have said a tad more than necessary to a perfect stranger, perhaps even the murderer! He concentrates for a second, and invokes the Lady's blessing to see the man's heart.
Walking in through the rotted gate, the lead adventurer feels a peculiar sensation...
First man (or woman) in:
A short overgrown track leads from the hill to the prison itself, forking around a knotted and drooping tree in front of the prison's entrance. The crumbling stone walls form a hexagon around the prison, the eastern side caved in under a sinkhole and subsequently filled with brackish water. Only two guard towers on the walls remain standing- both of them on your left as you face the prison, spread out corner to corner.
A small brick manor house sits off to the left of the track, between you and the prison. It is overgrown with thick sheets of grey-green ivy, the roof sagging ominously and the front door hanging askew.
The prison is a two-story stone building looming in the center of the grounds. Ivy and moss cling tenaciously to the walls, while above the wooden shingles of the roof are often missing entirely, exposing the wooden rafters of the upper structure to the sky. Here and there, leering stone gargoyles perch on the eaves, once functioning as drainspouts and decorations but now seeming almost to serve a more ominous role of sentinels. Many of these stone decorations have crumbled away and lie in ruined piles on the soggy ground below. Windows in the building's facade are narrow and blocked by grills of rusty iron bars. Stone columns support a slumping wooden balcony over the building's front doors, both of which hang askew and reveal dark glimpses of chambers within.
On the west side of the building is a large, rectangular block of stone resting on a weather-beaten stone balcony, while ruined wooden benches line the eastern wall under a row of tiny, barred windows above. A stout wooden door sits in the wall near the northern end of the balcony and stone stairs climb the westernmost side to access the grounds.
On the east side of the building is a matching balcony, the northernmost end partially collapsed into the sinkhole: a pile of rubble amid the gently rippling pool of dark water. Ivy hangs down the wall in thick, matted lengths, while dense tangles of vines decorated with deep red and violet flowers adorn the balcony's edges above.
From the back of the group, Trevor's head keeps popping up, as he can't really get a good look at the stranger. His heart nearly jumped when the artist cleared his throat.
As the conversation goes in directions he finds hard to follow, he relaxes somehow and takes a look at the shoes the stranger is wearing... If he attacks us... No, he's way too small!
Finally catching on about the opium: No, no, nothing like that! We are here to investigate. There is a mystery to be solved here. Say, do you come here often? ... I mean, do you know your way around this place? We are looking for the place where they found the good professor's body."
Trevor's face blushes somewhat as he realizes he might have said a tad more than necessary to a perfect stranger, perhaps even the murderer! He concentrates for a second, and invokes the Lady's blessing to see the man's heart.
Trevor:
** spoiler omitted **
"Well, since my young friend spilled our plans in this place, care to share what you are doing here? I'm afraid that he believes you killed our friend and those fellows with swords can get a little careless. Personally, I don't think you have it in you yet. You have a touch of the ivory tower about you, but you are too young to have really developed the killer instinct one needs to get ahead in academia." Arasmes seems a bit friendlier; a certain glint in his eyes indicates that he's enjoyed Aldous' jokes, or perhaps he just enjoyed Trevor's reactions.
When the young paladin blurts out the intentions of the group then seems to blush and give Aldous the evil eye, the scribbler laughs, "Sorry Trevor. This is my first time here so I don't have any special knowledge about the place. I do have my suspicions though and primary among them is that the Professor did not get himself killed by a randomly falling rock. Completely out of character!"
Aldous offers Arasmes a mischievous half smile then pulls the book up close and blows on the ink to dry it a little, sets it aside still open and stands to stretch and yawn. "Me? Nothing particularly exciting I'm afraid. Researching for a book about," he gestures sweepingly at the foreboding prison ahead, "Harrowstone, its history, the grisly end, the lingering curse... bah I don't know. It's all tentative at this point depending on what I turn up, but... you felt it didn't you? When you came through the gate? That my friends- was not natural. About as unnatural as Petros Lorrimer's death I'd wager."
Standing Aldous is only average height for a man, but quite slender. He wipes his ink-stained hand on the dark leggings and offers it to shake, "Aldous Helmsley- adjunct professor of Ustalavic myth and lore at Lepidstadt University. And you must be Arasmes. Pleasure to meet you."
Trevor is paralyzed with fright at the darkness that reveals itself through the Lady's gift: "B-By the Lady, this place is... this place is... v-very bad..." His forehead fills with sweat beads and his whole face turns white, drained of blood. His axe head lowers to the ground and seems heavy now. "I-I... 've never seen anything... so..." His voice trail off, cracking almost.
When the vision resumes, he shakes his head. Oh Rafan... I make a poor champion so far. I hope you still have faith in me.
Aldous' words spark him out of his gloom, though. Recovering, Trevor is all curiosity, if still drained, as he asks: "You knew him!? How? When?"
Evelyn finds this an unexpected shock to her system- she is shaken for minutes.
"He taught my undergraduate course on the history of Ustalav at Lepistadt. I've followed his career from a distance with some interest since and as I say his death was quite a surprise." Aldous takes up the book and seals it with a clasp then slips it into his pack. Cinching up the pack he eyes you all with a bright kind of intensity, "So- I know you felt it Evelyn. Like you were trapped and burning just for a second as you stepped into the prison grounds. Don't you find that a remarkable coincidence considering the history of this institution?" He shoulders the pack and picks up his mug taking a sip. "I'm going to find out what that is all about. You are welcome to come along of course."
In the brightness of the day, Luka is uncharacteristically quite, although he does take notice of Evelyn and Trevor's reactions upon reaching the grounds of the old prison. He keeps quite once they make contact with Aldous, but then grins at Aldous' invitation for them to join him.
"We're welcome to join you, is it? Safety in numbers there is, but I feel you would best be helped by joining us. As somewhat prepared as we may me be, I still hope our numbers are enough to do what we must, and I would fear for any man to enter these grounds alone. As young Trevor said, we are here to look into the professor's death, and I, for one, am happy to have any additional company. Despite our focus in being here being rather narrower that yours, will help you as we can to uncover what secrets there may be. Be warned, though. We have reason to believe it's not just the undead that are to be feared here."
"Where should we begin? There's a door, some steps. I'm afraid I really can't make out much beyond that." Arasmes squints at the world around him, shuddering at what he sees. He then begins muttering to himself.
Not prepared for the magic, Evelyn drops to one kneel, as she desperately gribs the hilt of her sword. She tries to tell herself the walls aren't closing in and theres no fire, but it dopesn't work. Slowly the fires fade and the walls recede, leaving a very shaken young lady. Rising to her feet and retreating a few steps, she turns and looks at their new aquaintance.
"I have no idea what "it" is, but one thing is clear, we are not welcome here. If you'll excuse me i need a moment."
Evelyn walks off to the side and composes herself, while making a quick prayer to Desna. "Godess hear me, I am in need of your protection and guidance. These magics are beyond me I fear, but I must go on. Please wtach over me and guide my aim."
Luka moves to Evelyn's side. "Are you all right my dear," he asks. "You seem shaken up? What was it?"
Aldous grins at Luka's distinction, "Bah! Semantics! I'm with you, you're with me, either way we can walk the place together. You have it right though. I wasn't relishing the thought of going it alone. Quite a happy coincidence you came along when you did." He trails off in a strange little half smile that makes you wonder if it was a coincidence at all.
The writer looks concerned when Luka mentions 'more than the undead' here. "Interesting... have there been any confirmed sightings of the undead here? And what exactly do you mean by "more than the undead"?
While Luka checks on Evelyn Aldous stares off into the distance at the prison, "It's this place. Echoes of the past bleeding into the present. If you didn't feel it, be grateful. What I don't understand is why now?"
All around the visible rooftops Aldous can see points where the weathered stone gargoyles have fallen off, crashing to the grounds below. It's difficult to see where to start.
Aldous:
All this talk about 'undead' and 'more than undead' makes Trevor only more nervous. He grabs a javelin in one hand, with his axe in another, and looks around, trying not to concentrate on the erudite discussion.
"What's that over there?" Aldous points into the distance where the foundation meets the ground. It is a bit far from here to make out the details, but it looks like some of the ivy and weeds have been cleared along the edge of the foundation. "I think we can rule out some erratic landscaping." The scholar slips past Arasmes with a wink and strolls further into the grounds to get a look while sipping his tea.