"Oh, you too?" Maybe I could join her on her way. She seems like she has a group of well-armed individuals. Safety in numbers, and all that. Kemras grins, but swiftly grows serious. "That was what I was going to do, but I stumbled across a mystery that caught my attention."
He pauses, considering his words carefully. "I'm sure you're aware that many of my people wear tattoos, yes?" The half-elf gestures at his own tattooed skin. "Well, some of us invest magic into our tattoos. I saw one such tattoo on one of the residents here."
"Normally, this wouldn't be much of a mystery, but what was was that the tattoo was an old Thassilonian rune - the sihedron." He draws it in the air. "A seven-pointed star. Now, I'm a scholar of Thassilon, so of course I asked about where the person in question got it."
His lips twist in a thoughtful expression. "I learned that it was a symbol of status - a mark that meant one could enter into very high stakes gambling areas at Paradise." Kemras looks at the others to see whether they recognize the name. "This means that there are multiple people with such tattoos - there were more, but apparently they went down with the ship."
"The mystery is severalfold - first, why would a gambling den use the sihedron as a symbol, rather than something more appropriate, like a coin or a symbol of good luck? Second, why would they enchant such a symbol? Third, what did they enchant it to do?" He sucks on his teeth. "I could not discern the nature of the enchantment myself, and I'm not sure if the one who was tattooed knows it is enchanted or not. I intended to speak to the mayor about it - I suspect that it would be of interest to him. But, as you know, he's..." The half-elf gestures airily at the church. "Busy."
Cleo smile creeps into a frown "The star..." she fiddles around for the amulet she has and shows it to him, a silver disk with the seven pointed star on it. "This one?"
Assuming he nods "It seems to be everywhere. In Sandpoint, it was a runewell of wrath under the city followed by a murderer carving the star into the chests of greedy people. In Magnimar it was a murder cult killing the greedy, backed by a coven of witches. Now here, in the middle of nowhere people are accepting it willingly, and why... to gamble. Greed again it seems." the little woman sighs. "I guess the fort will need to wait some more." she looks to Wabbit and Furnock to see if they disagree.
"I'm Cleo Gingerberry, by the way, and you are?"
Kemras' eyes widen slightly when Cleo produces her sihedron. "It seems," he says, "that you are no ordinary priestess of Erastil. Nor, indeed, an ordinary adventurer." He inclines his head nevertheless. "That is indeed the symbol in question. The rune of Thassilon, if you will."
Isn't Sandpoint where they have that Thassilonian tower? Hm, never got to visit it after I got an interest in Thassilon. Should make a journey there myself sometime soon. Abruptly, he realizes she's talking about a murderer there, and he frowns again, dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Greed was represented by one of the Thassilonian schools of magic... transmutation, I think?"
"Perhaps someone else should look at these tattoos, too... if they're being used in a similar way to the ones you've mentioned, that would mean someone's planning murder here. How many bear the tattoo?" Kemras sucks his teeth quietly, before looking up. "The person I talked to wasn't terribly forthcoming, but he did mention that many of the people with the tattoo are already dead - as I said, they went down with the ship."
He falls silent, considering the facts. Maybe the tattoo is a part of a greater enchantment? It would explain why I couldn't identify it, possibly. What sort of magic would use the death of greedy people marked with a sihedron? Surely there's another rune that represents greed more directly? Too obvious? Hm...
"Oh," he shakes himself from his deep thoughts, extending a chilly hand to shake, "I'm Kemras Iuvescanu, as I said before. I'm a scholar of Thassilon and other parts of Varisian history. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gingerberry."
He looks to her companions, expression politely inquiring.
"Oh, I'm nothing special." Cleo dismisses, as she takes in all Kemras's is saying. "The ship went down." her tired voice tinged with regret as she finally gets it "A mass murder of people marked a magical rune of greed. So many... at the coven, we found a letter. One sister talking to another gloating that she was creating a harvest of souls here at Turtleback, that half the town bore her mark, and they would 'flood' their Lord's coffers." she shakes her head sadly "We were too late, busy with..." orphans and temples, but still "... other things." looking to her friends "We shouldn't delay any longer to get to the fort. We should gather supplies and leave as soon as we can."
Name's Furnok. Been living around Sandpoint my whole life and been raising pigs and keepen any threats like the Thistletop Goblins from harmen the townsfolk. The last year has been pretty rough with attacks by undead, ogres, thieves and other nasty folk that lead us to Magnimar where this cult was causing trouble. So now we're back and hopefully putten and end to all of this ruckus.
nothing special Wabbit laughs Cousin... I beg to differ. Kemras, my name is Wabbit. I'm a Chaldiran wanderer. We're about to investigate the fort thinking it's tied somehow to these thasilonian runes. Since you seem to be interested in and have knowledge of the runes, would you care to accompany us and look further into this mystery?
Kemras frowns slightly, confused, before speaking again. "Well, technically the sihedron represents all of the schools of magic, or sins, but... now's not the time to discuss the particulars of Thassilonian rune magic, I'm sure."
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Why do you believe that Fort Rannick will be important to this mystery, Miss Gingerberry? I don't quite see the relationship." Does she think the Black Arrows will help them with the threat?
"A pleasure, Furnok, Wabbit." He shakes each of their hands politely, before continuing his questions. "Why would Fort Rannick be tied to the runes? Does it have some relationship to Thassilon?" He ponders this, considering the matter. Well, safety in numbers, indeed... and I was planning to go to Fort Rannick anyways... but will it really relate to the sihedrons here?
"While I wouldn't mind going to the Fort with you, especially if there are ruins or runes involved - I was headed there myself, as I said - I don't see how it is relevant to these tattoos - or, indeed, your cultists and covens of murderers." He arches a dark brow inquisitively.
Maybe they got some sort of information from the coven. Well, Miss Gingerberry did say that they found a letter mentioning a flood of power to their master... I wonder who that could be. Some sort of neo-Thassilonian cult? A breakaway order of the Cyphermages? I wonder if they're as fond of wordplay as the ancient Thassilonians... No, put that aside. Too little information to go on, can't start making conclusions yet. Kemras shakes his head, sending his hair fluttering, before focusing again on the present.
"The letter from the sister said when she was done with Turtleback she was headed to the Fort. So no great insight from us, just following the map we were given." she frets for a moment in thought. "I should wait until Ferrus is done, it would be impolite to not, and he should know all we know in case we fail and they try to do another harvest here." she comes to a decision "I am going to stay here for the moment, a half-hour delay can't mean more... hopefully."
Acoris forces herself to be quiet and listen to Cleo and Kemras's exchange, not wanting to jeopardize the extended offer for her to accompany them. With Kemras talking about the tattoo mystery and Cleo discussing runewells and murder cults, her eyes widen in excitement. Even the rarely speaking Furnok mentioned undead and ogres. "'Too many' monsters indeed," She mutters to herself, echoing Cleo's comment from earlier, amazed (and jealous) at just how much the halfling had brushed off.
"Perhaps we should ask around about the man with the tattoo?" She finally offers. "The priest was able to discern things about us, perhaps he could of that man as well?"
Kemras frowns slightly at the revelation. ”Wait, the coven sister is going to Fort Rannick? Do we know that she’s done here?” Partially, his objection comes from a rational place. Mostly, he has to admit to himself, it comes from his unwillingness to believe it.
I hope he’s alright… I don’t have many friends to begin with. I would really rather not lose ones I do have. The half-elf considers for a few moments.
”Given how autocratic the priesthood seems here, I wouldn’t be shocked if the priests were able to command their people to reveal their tattoos… and then they would be able to examine them.” He agrees with Acoris. After a moment, he realizes that he could be taken as insulting the priesthood in front of one of their members - or at least associates. "Apologies, Miss Gingerberry. I mean no offense."
But I want to know what’s going on there! A part of him silently complains. But if there’s some danger at Fort Rannick - well, unusual danger - then Kaven will probably be in the thick of it. Well, assuming he believes in his comrades… His expression falls into neutrality as he wars with himself.
”Well, if you’re going to Fort Rannick, then I would like to join you. I’m not wholly comfortable heading into potential danger alone. Supposedly the Kreegwood has some wild beasts I’d rather avoid fighting with, and with company, they’re less likely to be aggressive.” He says after a long consideration. ”In the long term, half an hour is unlikely to change anything. I don’t think that the Fort is within a day’s travel, anyways…”
Kemras knows that the sihedron rune represented the seven schools of sin magic within Thassilon. Envy (abjuration), Sloth (Conjuration), Lust (Enchantment), Wrath (Evocation), Pride (Illusion), Gluttony (Necromancy), and Greed (Transmutation). Each runelord specialized in a specific form of sin magic. Runelords were wizards of immense power, with arcane secrets that have been lost to time. Current wizardry is but a shadow of what the Thassilonians commanded. One of the many capabilities of Runelords were to create runes, carvings in stone that radiated magic. These runes were integral to society, and used both for convenience and warfare. They were incredibly versatile.
"Um... I have the letter, or at least a copy from the guard, somewhere..." she fishes through her pack and pouches until she pulls it out and offers it to Acoris and Kemras to read.
She nods to the suggestion to talk to the priest about the tattoos and shrugs off the perceived offense. "All families are different. answering simply with a slight smile, remembering briefly her own horde. She sends the smile to her cousin and then continues "Okay, we'll wait, then go buy supplies for the trip. Have either of you been to the Fort?" she asks their new acquittances.
Kemras examines the letter carefully. "Hm." He ponders the words silently for a time.
I'm not aware of any associations that witches or hags may have had with Thassilon, so why would they be associating with the sihedron? Simple power? The letter implies a patron of some sort... are hags so willing to kneel before others? Strange, nevertheless. He hands the letter to the gathlain, thinking hard.
"Well, based on the letter, it seems that our interests most certainly align, in that I am preparing for a journey to the Fort as well as the fact that I hold a deep interest in Thassilon. If the letter is correct, and its author is not exaggerating, than this is a greater mystery - and possible tragedy - than I'd thought."
The scholar sucks on his teeth thoughtfully. "With this, we can safely assume that Paradise was associated in some way with the coven you fought in Magnimar, as well as with whatever 'master' they were serving." He looks at Cleo and the Shield gravely. "The Father will definitely want to know about this, especially given how strict he is about the security of his town."
Shame the letter doesn't show any name for the sender. Not surprising, given the personal tone, but a shame nonetheless. He only pulls himself out of his deep thoughts when Cleo asks him and Acoris a question. "I haven't been there, no. I'm reasonably certain I could figure out where it is and get there from here, but I don't know the way for certain."
Cleo nods along, then looks over to check to see if the sermon is over.
Wabbit looks over as well ;) Yup it is lol
Furnok suddenly wakes up!
The group enter the church just as the sermon is concluding. The dozen or so people who were attending get up from the pews to leave. As they do, many of them take glances at the adventurers.
Cleo: Worshipper of Erastil, but also hanging out with a freaky armed Goblin. Kind of cancels each other out.
Wabbit: Neutral impression
Furnok: Looks like one of the townsfolk. A few nod or smile and say hello.
Kemras: Neutral impression
Acoris: Oh gods, it's THAT fey creature. The one who never stops asking questions... Ignore them, and maybe they won't talk to you...
Brother Henric nods to the group, then takes his leave. Only Father Ferrus remains. He's currently standing next to the altar, as he picks up his notes for the sermon. When the group approaches him, he says
"Welcome to the house of Erastil, young adventurers. I am Father Ferrus. What can I offer you?"
Father Ferrus looks to be some sort of mix between Chelish and Varisian heritage. His brown hair is shaved at the top, creating a ring of hair that will soon look like a horseshoe as his hair recedes. His eyes are a deep brown, and they carry far less judgement than Brother Henric's piercing eyes, they still carry a quizzical look. Father Ferrus wears a brown monastic scapula, which features an embroidered large house, a scroll, and a gavel. Cleo is pretty sure this functions the same as a Cassock of the Clergy.
Father Ferrus is wearing a Cassock of the Clergy. The cassock shows the domains that he's attuned to, which are Community (home), and Law.
Furnok gives some hellos back and makes small talk about the weather, pig farming and air speed of swallows.
Cleo greets the man warmly. If there is no one else about, she'll tell him their tale and their worries about the tattoos. "We have the letter pointing to something in the town and Kemras' discovery that the tattoos are enchanted. It is not clear proof the gambling boat was a harvest for their lord, but it does point that way."
The priest of Erastil listens intently, and reads the letter himself for proof. "Were this message from anyone other than one of the cloth, I would not put much stock in it." Father Ferrus says, narrowing his eyebrows in a stern gaze. "I knew from the beginning that Lucrecia was ill-fortune, but this suggests she was more than a wealthy investor. A true temptress, not of sexual desire, but that of greed. Are you certain she is a hag? She sounds more like an outsider from the pits of Hell."
Kemras looks on silently as he allows the others to speak first - they had, after all, arrived at the church before him. He offers a charming smile to the congregants as they shuffle out the door into the chill, though it fades as he contemplates what brought him here.
I wonder how many of them bear the tattoo that marks them as prey… A part of him is inordinately pleased with the discovery of these people’s secret. While the fact that he might be able to help save lives is nice, it somehow doesn’t appeal quite as much as unraveling the mystery. That should worry me more than it does. Mother would be disappointed.
I suppose that means that Lucretia is the one who wrote the letter... Kemras muses silently, though his eyes narrow slightly. So If I'd ben the one to report this, he'd not have believed me? No wonder I dislike this place.
Cleo shakes her head "No, not certain. She could have been using the term coven as a jab at her 'sister'... at least we have a name now. Lucrecia. Can you describe her for us, just in case?" she then will pause to let anyone else ask questions.
"If she is a hag, she probably wasn't wearing her true shape." Kemras points out. "But it is a good idea to have how she might appear to others in mind."
He pauses, considering. "What happened to Lucrecia? If her ship went down, was she on it?" The question isn't directed at Father Ferrus in particular, but rather simply thinking aloud. "If she wasn't, where was she? If she was, did she survive? I suspect it is likely she did, if she were aboard and a hag."
Kemras gets the impression that Father Ferrus would normally need significantly more persuasion, but having someone of his own faith, who themselves carries divine power , is enough to put his trust in them.
"Lucrecia..." Father Ferrus mutters as he tries to recall her. "Long, red hair. She would wear very expensive dresses. She was slim as well. I only met her in person once. She was a master of charm, likely used to manipulating others to do her bidding. Brother Henric and I saw through her guise, but many did not."
To Kemras, Father Ferrus replies "Lucrecia would have been on her ship that night. We assumed she had perished along with the others. I pray their souls were not somehow corrupted, that this letter is more metaphor than reality."
Kemras nods gravely. "We can investigate the tattoos more thoroughly, to determine whether this is literal or metaphorical. I would need to see them, myself, but perhaps others have access to magic that would allow them to determine the tattoos' nature more clearly..."
What manner of ritual could they be performing that would need so many souls - specifically greedy ones? Something to do with transmutation, I have to imagine... which schools opposed transmutation in Thassilonian magic? Was one necromancy?
No, illusion and enchantment. Hm... so it could be necromantic, I suppose... which might involve the souls more directly. Kemras sucks his teeth. "There are too many unknowns. I need more information to make more accurate conclusions." He mutters to himself.
Can you tell us more about the Fort? It appears as if that's our next stop. I'm sure you and your Inquisitor whom we just met can figure out how pervasive this "greed" influence and tattoos are in your town. I fear whatever has happened in town, it's likely MUCH worse at the Fort .
"I'm sure you could find someone willing to show you." Father Ferrus says. "When she says half of Turtleback bears the mark, she is exaggerating only slightly. It has been a long-fought war between the teachings of Ol' Deadeye and Lucrecia's extravagance and riches. Many, perhaps a third of town, has accepted the tattoo. The only ones who've refused are the pious, and those too poor to get on the ship."
To Wabbit, he says "There is not much I can tell you about Fort Rannick. I traveled there to consecrate the keep when it was first constructed, but never again. The Black Arrows only come into town once a month for the supplies they can't make. Do you need directions?"
"Our friends here think they can find it, but any pointing to the right direction would be lovely, sir." Cleo says yes to the directions. "Thank you for your time, and good luck in all your endevors." Cleo will bow and give a quick prayer of thanks for the grandfather for leading them to the path of friends and family, then will start to say her goodbyes so they can start the process of getting to where they need to go.
To Wabbit, he says The Black Arrows only come into town once a month for the supplies they can't make."
before Cleo finishes up the conversation, Wabbit asks one last question
Are they due in town anytime soon?
"Um... I have the letter, or at least a copy from the guard, somewhere..." she fishes through her pack and pouches until she pulls it out and offers it to Acoris and Kemras to read.
She nods to the suggestion to talk to the priest about the tattoos and shrugs off the perceived offense. "All families are different. answering simply with a slight smile, remembering briefly her own horde. She sends the smile to her cousin and then continues "Okay, we'll wait, then go buy supplies for the trip. Have either of you been to the Fort?" she asks their new acquittances.
Acoris reads the letter in silence, her brow furrowed. Something about it unsettles her, but she doesn't offer further information. When asked about the fort, she shakes her head. "No, I never had reason to go there, and it's further than I've traveled in a long time."
Stepping outside with Cleo, Acoris shakes her head. "I fear that what he wishes is wrong. Someone with such a talent for manipulation and sweeping diabolical plans would not likely drown in a shipwreck. It may have been part of her plan, though."
"I have known Fey like her, agents of chaos. Beings that seek only to amuse themselves. I fear that she has been toying with you, is toying with us even now."
"What more can you tell me of her sister? Was she the same?"
Kemras ponders the priest's words carefully. He doesn't intend to investigate on his own at all? That seems... absurd. Perhaps he's less bright than I gave him credit for, impossible though that may seem. But, well, perhaps these adventurers are correct - if this Lucrecia is responsible, we can find out more from her directly. Assuming she lets us... He shakes his head slightly, setting the thought aside. Besides, Kaven might be in more danger than usual. I should check on him.
"Thank you for your time, Father." The half-elf says, finally. "I suspect that these fine adventurers well help avert the possibility of tragedy, but I shall endeavor to aid them, as well." He bows his head politely, and leaves the church.
Outside, Kemras listens to the two small women speak, his expression contemplative. "I agree. I strongly suspect that Lucrecia survived the sinking of Paradise. While I do not know whether she caused it, I think it a reasonable assumption. However, I don't know that Lucrecia could have anticipated being discovered like this - perhaps it is possible, but..." He frowns faintly. "It's not terribly plausible."
"I don't know their schedule, but I haven't heard of them coming into town recently."
"One more thing." Father Ferrus says. "Sister Gingerberry, I believe you should take this on your travels. I made it specifically for visiting priests such as yourself. May it be of use to you." He gives her a brown monastic scapula much like his own, which he assures her will shrink to fit her if she puts it on.
Cassock of the Clergy
Aura moderate abjuration; CL 1st; Slot body; Price 4,600 gp; Weight 1 lb.
DESCRIPTION
This brown monastic scapula bears the holy bow of Erastil. If the wearer is a worshipper of Erastil and has the domain class feature, it bestows the following:
The wearer may command the cassock of the clergy to display the holy symbol of Erastil or hide this symbol. At the most basic level, the garment functions as a divine focus. Also, the wearer may use each once per day, and may prepare as a bonus orison.
"Oh! This is lovely, smells of... Tea? And honey." she beams up a thanking smile, then after a moment's pause gives the larger man a small hug. "Watch over your family sir, so many vile things have been happening lately, we can't afford to lose many more."
Outside... "A villain meeting an untimely death? Yes, we've never been that lucky, so I doubt that will start happening now."
At Acoris' question, she thinks "The sister was..." Cleo pauses trying to remember enough details "She started off looking like a young aristocratic woman, but when she died she reverted into an old woman barely anything more than bones."
Didn't she have more than two legs? Hmm..Been a while.
Father Ferrus receives Cleo's hug with a small and gentle smile. "I fear there is not much I can do, but I will do my best to ensure the safety of Turtleback. May you tread safely, and return with more clarity about this mystery."
Once everyone is outside, they all hear a peal of thunder from the North. Grey clouds have quickly formed over the mountains, though rain has not reached Turtleback.
"Well... I don't like the idea of going out into that." Kemras looks to the others with an arched brow. "Should we go to the Taphouse to wait out the storm, or is there something else you all would rather do?"
Cleo looks out at the dark clouds, and sighs "Yes, that makes sense."
a warm dry bed sounds much better than the wet cold road
The group starts heading back to the Taphouse, when they see an old woman buckle over in the street. Her beige linen robe gets muddy as she falls into the street, and she cries out in pain.
A few townsfolk spot this at the same time, the vast majority of them immediately hurrying over to help.
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Wabbit is slightly dismayed to hear that the Taphouse only offers a straw mat by the hearth as "lodging". The innkeeper, a friendly man called Galt, says "It ain't much, but it's the only place in Turtleback that a stranger can pay for a warm place to sleep. I was thinking of putting another floor on here and making it a real inn, but with Paradise gone, well I'm having second thoughts. We don't get many travelers out here, and they usually have friends or family to stay at. I just ask two coppers for a mat, and your name, of course. If it's not to your liking, mayhaps I can call on a friend to give you a place."
There are eight straw mats available, each about six feet long and a couple inches high. One of the mats is already taken by a homeless-looking Varisian with only a handful of teeth. Theedor's holding a clay mug that's been glued back together, which he's drinking out of.
Traveling in the rain is for only when you are desperate. So a warm bed is good.
"Oh goodness, are you alright." Cleo rushes over to the woman "I'm a cleric, is there anything I can do to help."
Wabbit rushes over with "Cinnabon" ;) to see if the Lil ol lady needs help crossing the street
Kemras watches curiously as the halflings rush to the old woman's side, before sighing inwardly and glancing at the storm clouds approaching. I suppose helping her up won't hurt... With a resigned shake of his head, he approaches the old woman, offering his help to Cleo in assessing any injuries.
Kemras nods his appreciation to Galt, smiling cheerfully as he places his bag by the mat he has decided to claim for his own. Casting a brief glance at Theedor, Kemras grants him a smile, too. It never hurts to be friendly with the locals.
Though there are already a small handful of people running over to help, none of them are capable of really doing much. Cleo, declaring herself a cleric and obviously bearing the cloth of Erastil, gets everyone to take a step back while she looks over the old woman. She learns the woman's name is Jira, or Mrs Helens. She's well into her 70's, and wears her white hair in loose braids.
"Storm's comin, miss Cleo. I feel it in my bones. Nought like anything I ever felt before. My legs, they hurt so bad."
Mrs Helens lives in Kreegside, which is the north-west side of town (pretty much the opposite side compared to the Taphouse). She lives with her eldest daughter.
Cleo can tell that Mrs Helens is suffering from Dexterity damage and a pain effect. Lesser Restoration and Delay Pain will solve the issue, but otherwise she'll need time to rest.
"My Nan used to feel storms this was too. Her joints would swell. pain would come, and my normally unstoppable nan would need a little help." Cleo concentrates whispering a pray to the grandfather, and lightly lays her hand on the woman's arm.
"We'll see you home. Furnok, would you mind giving the lovely young woman a lift while I carry her things?"
More than happy to. Furnok lets her lean on him.
Though there's still some lingering pain, Mrs. Helens feels much better. "Thank you sugah. So nice to see young folk still carin about us old fogies." She holds onto Furnok's arm to stand up and steady herself, and lets Cleo hold her burlap bag. As they slowly walk, she says. "Back when I was your age, t'was expected to look after your elders. Not just your ma or pa, but everyone in the community. Nowadays, our kids are all travelin to the big cities. Too busy lookin for gold or education to care bout even writin us. I had me seven kids, y'all know. Five of em left me, an only one of em writes. If it weren't for my eldest daughter bein... different, I would of been left all on my own. I always thought absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it don't matter if they don't care."
During this time, some of the locals catch sight of Cleo, Wabbit, Kemras, and Furnok walking this old woman. It's clear they like what they see, as some of them smile or give a thumbs up.
Finally, they reach the edge of Kreegside, where a simple wattle and daub hut stands with smoke wafting out the chimney. It's outside of the wall, but there are anti-cavalry spikes and a simple wooden fence about 10 feet away. Mrs. Helens lets go of Furnok's arm to knock a specific pattern on the door. "Claudia, I'm home darlin." Before she takes an iron key from the bag Cleo's holding, and unlocks the door. Turning back to the group, she says
"Thank y'all again for helpin and listenin to this old girl. I don't have anythin to offer, but if y'all come back tomorrow evenin, I'll have somethin for you. But I'm gone rest now. I'm plumb tuckered out. Good night Miss Cleo, an Misters Kemras, Furnok, an Wabbit. Be safe out there."