The Horn of Aroden (Inactive)

Game Master Baerlie

"Excellent idea, Sir Vrald. Let's find the archives."

Once Vrald opens the gate the man in the Yard approaches you with an abruptly friendly demeanor. He drops his gloves, smiles, and reaches out a hand to shake those of his new friends.

"Hello, my Name is Deris Marlinchen. What brings you here?"

"Good day Deris. I am Vrald Sehir. We come on a number of missions. You look like a fellow who knows his way around. Could you provide us some guidance around the layout of the school and which buildings are where? Or spots that you know are dangerous and we should avoid?"

Maeron nods respectfully towards Deris. Allowing his more talkative allies to introduce them to the man.

Just checking in. I'm still hear daily, just Maeron is not big with the talking.

Jaegar got a pretty extensive look at the map. He will try to overlay his memory with the description from Deris.

Hopefully he can navigate the grounds without endangering the caretaker.

"Of course I can. Look. Follow this path and you reach the pond and the main building with the offices and classrooms. Over there is the sports ground. The residental wing is next to the main building. And at the other side of the property are the facilities for the gardeners and maintainance men." Deris says. "Are you looking for something or somebody? I can introduce you to Mrs. Heracks, she's in one of the classrooms."

Gilfroy pales at the man's words. "Excuse me, good sir. My name is Gilfroy. I know this is a strange question, but I just can't take anybody seriously unless I know how old they are and what year they were born. It's a gnome thing."

Bluff: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

Deris smiles at Gilfroy's question. "Of course, Sir Gilfroy, I can answer this question. I was born in 4659 and I'm 55 years old."

Assuming it's 4714 in Golarion today.

"Oh! Okay. Who's Mrs. Heracks, and why are the two of you here inside a ruined and abandoned school?"

"Mrs. Heracks is a teacher. She's still educating the children. I thought I’d tend the grounds while I wait for Cassiel."

"Educating... the children, you say? There are still children here? We were... under the impression that this place was abandoned."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (4) + 0 = 4
Also casting detect magic.

"Does your child attend here?"

A shiver goes down the back of Vrald's neck.

"Who is Cassiel? Do you remember the earthquake?

He smiles at Deris for a moment. "Gilfroy and I were comparing calendars, and years based on where we grew up. Did you know that some cultures name the years after major events - 'The year of the green Dragons Flight' for example. I'm not from Absalom, using the common calendar here, what year would you say it was?"

Kristen does not detect any magic at or around the man.

"Yes, there are still children. And I remember the earthquake, it was about ten years ago. My daughter Cassiel was in the building during the earthquake. I saved her and many others of them — teachers and students. Some still call me a hero. I never heard about a green Dragon."

The GM has no idea when 'The Year of the Green Dragons Flight' was, sorry.

Maeron finally speaks.

"Perhaps you should just show us to this teacher."

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Gilfroy thinks a bit more then relaxes. He turns to the others, and with a sad expression, reams his finger at his ear.

"Poor chap," he mutters.

"Yes, may we meet the teacher, please?" Kristen smiles broadly at the man, hoping he'll act as an impromptu guide for them.

"Ok, follow me!" the man says and runs away.

The ruined paths of the Tri-Towers Yard wind their way around black ponds and gray, shattered buildings. Powerful fragrances precede one roofless hall where a thin path meanders through an abundance of flower arrangements in wild bloom. These are the original funerary flowers from 10 years ago and growing into a small flower garden. Just off this path is the entrance to a small classroom.

Ten students dressed in checkered uniforms sit stiffly at wooden desks, staring straight ahead. No one moves. At the front of the class, a conservatively dressed woman leans against the wall.

Vrald stops to admire the flowers for a moment.

"Did you plant these?" he asks the groundsman.

Once he is shown the school room he looks at Deris.

"I'd not want to bother the children. Do you think you could ask Mrs Heracks to come and join us outside?"

The green dragons flight is just a random year I made up. I'm sure someone somewhere would use that as the name base for a year. IRL some cultures have used much stranger things!

"I did not plant these, they grew wildly." Deris says while rushing forward.

Once at the class room he says "I can call her, wait a minute." he says and steps into the room. After a few words with the teacher he comes back. "She will be with you in a minute."

Once Deris is out of the room the teacher silently gestures, the students nod and silently whisper to one another.

I automatically pass that Perception.

Maeron eyes grow wide as he realises the situation.

"These people are no longer of this world. They are but a memory of the dead."

The elf shakes his head at the situation, saddened for the man.

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Sir... come away from the classroom. Those students and teacher are not real. But it is alright, perhaps we can help put their spirits to rest."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

"Does anybody know how to put haunts to rest? Don't we need to know what's keeping them from passing on?"

Vrald shakes. "I have dealt with the dead before. But these...Those dead had bodies."

He thinks. "Maybe they need to have their bodies put to rest? Or to finish the class?"

He looks into the room, wondering if one of those spirits maybe the child they are looking for.

"Unfortunately, I don't have much insight on how to end their pain. We may need a cleric to weigh in."

"Why do you say they are not real? Look, the teacher is coming." Deris says, looking a bit angry. You can see the teacher coming out of the room, she walks a bit staggered.

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 16

Narrowing his eyes, Gilfroy nods. "Of course, you're right. Clearly they're there."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (14) + 16 = 30

Deeming it sort of safe, Gilfroy will suggest they look around for clues.

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"If we are here to investigate, I would certainly not turn down the assistance of such knowledgeable spirits. Deris, Mrs. Heracks, and any other individual willing to help us should be seen as a boon in our quest." Jaegar nods appreciatively to Deris and the spirits.

"By chance, do any of you know Junia Dacilane? Her mother asked us to check up on her."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

"Also, do you three mind if I peruse these Journals?" He gestures toward the three discovered memoires.

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 11
perception: 1d20 ⇒ 10

Vrald executes a courtly bow, somewhat confused by the situation.

"Good day to you Mrs Heracks !" he starts off.

"We are searching for a couple of things, well, one of your former students actually, as well as a ring."

Vrald continues to describe the objects of their quest.

"Do you know where we may find these?"

diplomacy aid: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

"I remember that my doughter once mentioned a girl with this name. She said that Junia was one of the studends who skipped lessons to visit a place they call The Crypt. My daughter never joined them. I'm sure, she told me." Deris answers to Jaegar's question.

You can see Deris talking to Mrs. Heracks, her mouth is moving like she's talking but you do not hear a word.

"Mrs. Heracks says that you can take the journals if you like, but she does not know anything about a ring. She says that Junia was a wicked girl. She was mean to other students and did not attend the lessons very often." Deris says after talking to Mrs. Heracks.

Jaegar thanks all four of them, "Deris, Mrs. Heracks, and girls, thank you so much for your inputs. I'm sure we'll speak with you again as questions arise. If you could so gently indicate where we might find The Crypt, we will be on our way. One more thing, do you know of any specific dangers we should avoid en route to The Crypt?"

After Jaegar politely listens to the response, he begins perusing the journals.

Jaegar wonders about the reports to Lady Decilane. If Junia was wicked, truant, and cruel how much truth should be shared with a grieving mother. Where does honesty meet social tact, and where does compassion meet duty?

"Thank you Mrs Heracks. That was very helpful."

Assuming that Jaegar also mentioned the box, and after we get the answers asked for above.

"May we take that box too?" he asks in a polite manner.

My Bad. Missed the box.

Deris talks to Mrs. Heracks again. "You can check the box, no problem. Take what you need, it's ok. Mrs. Heracks says that she knows where to find the place the children call The Crypt. It's a necropolis, it's entrance is sunk in a pool. You have to be carful, giant waterbugs breed at this place." Deris translates what Mrs. Heracks says.

The box is locked. The diaries all have the same handwriting.

"Thank you Deris, and thank you Mrs Heracks." says Vrald, bowing to the spirit and their guide.

Do we have time to scan the diaries now? And is anyone good with locks?

Yes, you have time. The dead will not run away ;)

Vrald looks at the diaries, reading it if he understands it, and passing it to the others to read if he cannot.

"Mrs Heracks, do you know where the key is for this?"

Gilfroy also peruses the journals, leaving the lockbox to the others.

After two sentences with Mrs. Heracks Deris answers "Yes she knows where the key is." He takes something out of his pocked and hands it to Vrald. It is a small metal key, about the size of the lock in the lockbox.

"Thank you Deris and Mrs Heracks."

Looking at the box suspiciously, Vrald pretends he knows how to check it for traps.

perception: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Then, if he doesn't find one, he opens it.

The lockbox contains several parchment missives that reveal Headmistress Kiwu as an Osirian spy. Mrs. Heracks’s diary plots the location of the black pool of bubbling water in the school yard. The diaries are all written in the same hand-writing.

"Should we make headway then my friends?" Maeron says, finally speaking again.

Tenderstump shakes his leaves, uprooting his feet from the ground.

-Posted with Wayfinder

"Interesting... this may be of value later."

Vrald nods to Maeron.

"Yes, onwards!"

He heads off. "Deris, are you coming?"

"Well then, let's continue on."

"Yes, sir! I'll be with you!" Deris answers to Vrald's question. He rushes out of the building to lead the way to the entrance of the necropolis. Also Mrs. Heracks follows.

After a few minutes you arrive at a wide, black pool with an occasional bubble percolating up in the center. The gently bubbling black water is waist deep.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Maeron notices the arm immediately, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not mean to cause alarm, but there is a human arm in that pool. This bodes ill."

Upon saying that the Treesinger draws his bow.

Vrald peers into the pool.

perception: 1d20 ⇒ 17

"I see it too. Does it look, ahh, 'fresh' to you?"

Vrald is curious about whether this is a modern body, or one that may date from the earthquake.

"What makes the pool black?"

And what is the last date in the diary?

The last entries are a few days old.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Just so I am sure. The diary's and the 'papers' that reveal the headmistress as a spy are in the same handwriting, even though they are supposedly from different people.

Also... the Diary is supposed to be from Mrs Heracks, and has up to date entries, but Mrs Heracks seems to be somewhat insubstantial, and Deris had the key to the lockbox they were kept in.

As he watches the pool, Vrald can't help but keep looking at Deris.

"I say Mr Marlinchen. You seem a educated man, and one that doesn't mind a spot of community service..." he gestures to the grounds around them and takes out some writing materials.

"Would you be so good as to scribe some words for me. I find it hard to be creative while holding a quill"

Vrald looks around the area of inspiration.

"Ahh, And Travelling within the ruined school, they came across a blackness pool. All about did seem dead calm, but lurking within was a dead arm."

performance-poetry: 1d20 ⇒ 3 :-)
The dice bot must have read that. I think a three seems appropriate

Mostly Vrald wants to get a sample of his handwriting, just to confirm that it has indeed been Deris doing the writing and not some third party.

Kristen wrinkles her nose at the mention of the floating arm. "Let's be cautious.... arms without bodies normally mean there are undead or other horrible things nearby."