Utho will make sure he is in his more human form before entering town. He stops before the ominous temple. The Pharasmans always make their buildings look so beautiful. he thinks to himself sarcastically.
He walks up to the large doors. If there is no attendant, he walks in.
Ezebelle meanders into town looking for the local tavern, Upon finding it she will walk in and take a seat at the bar, ordering whatever local ale they have.
Sitting back in on her stool she will attempt to listen to the conversations around her, see if anything interesting is said.
Ezra nods at the bookish young man. I believe that is something we really need to look into, but if they are long dead and causing problems, they are likely undead. We really should look into getting those tools."
"We need Ezebelle.
Inside the air is musky and there are a few patrons and a single man behind the bar, moving his large stocky body about cleaning and delivering drinks to those at the bar. He has a round nose, a large dark brown mustache and a full head of hair, apparently beyond his age. His cheeks are flush and he seems quite merry. None of the patrons mind your entrance and when you sit at the bar.
You overhear a conversation, mid-story: "said that a scarecrow turned and winked at him and then when he came out half a mile over moor, he swore he looked back and saw the thing just fifty feet behind him, standing like it was there all along. I tell you what though, that Hersh is a fool and I'd bet bullocks to a barn dance he was just drunk. He said it was haunted. I say there ain't no such thing as ghosts." The man finishes and takes a long swig of his cup. "Nah, people around here are just afraid of something, but it sure ain't no undead spirits."
The man working the bar lumbers over. "Get you something, friend?" His eyes squint above his smile and he seems genuinely pleased with your presence.
Cassiel pauses, letting Edwyn & Ezra's words sink in.
"Okay... from what I've been able to piece together, the Whispering Way commonly sends necromancer agents to areas with high-profile haunts & undead menaces to do field research or to capture unique monsters. They're typically looking for ingredients or formulae to create liches. Their current goal is to bring back their most notorious member, known as the Whispering Tyrant, or Tar-Baphon to his buddies." Cassiel says. He appears to be shaking off his fatigue.
"If they're trying to bring someone like him back, they'd likely need some pretty damn powerful--or rare--ingredients. If they were at Harrowstone, it'd be to collect the soul of someone important there, likely the one of the most violent criminal." He continues, taking Edwyn's & Ezra's research into account. "Why else would you go to an old prison?"
"And, if anyone had any ideas about speaking with Petros' spirit, sorry to disappoint you, but if the Way did have him murdered, they'd likely have also busted his mouth up to keep him from talking." He finishes. His hands clench into fists.
"Edwyn, you mentioned that there were five dangerous crooks in Harrowstone when it burned down. Do you think you & Ezra could perhaps do some research on them tomorrow?" He asks.
Ezebelle displays a strained smile as the barkeep wanders over.
"Something strong. It's been a long day, filled with crazy people." Ezebelle sighs placing her head on the countertop.
Ahh crap. Sheriff asked us to not mention today didn't he? Okay think quickly.
"I mean... Who really finds enjoyment staring at a book? That Lorrimor place is like a horror story, books wall to ceiling. I swear everyone that went to that funeral prefers a dank musty room to the open air. Just doesn't make any sense. Give me a rumour and a trail to follow over those forsaken books any day of the week." She proclaims, tapping the warhammer at her side lightly.
While waiting on her drink Ezebelle listens more intently to convesation behind her, as she hears some of the details Ezebelle's head perks up.
If only they were right about undead spirits not existing. I envy their naivety.
Ezebelle glances back to the bartender.
"Any idea what they are talking about over there?"
He turns and takes a bottle of amber liquid from the shelf behind him. He pours it into a glass about two fingers high and slides it over to you.
"Those drunks? Sounds like Elvar is going on about Hersh again. Elvar and Hersh have been friends since they were lads. You wouldn't think it by the way they come in here and spit about each other. With friends like these, you know. Excuse me one moment."
He picks up a handful of small black seed like objects from a jar on the serving side of the bar and walks through a back door. You catch a glimpse of a kitchen behind it and the orange glow of a cooking fire. After a short moment you hear a crackling noise and then the smell of cloves drifts out into the common room. The bartender returns and sets about washing some mugs in front of you.
"I recognize you from the funeral. I was there, too. A damn shame about old Petros. He was a good fellow. I admit I couldn't hear much of your words on Petros. Did you say you were employed as a hunter? If you don't mind me asking."
Ezebelle looks at the barkeep with a look of intrigue glittering in her eyes.
maybe he wants someone found?... and that smells amazing. Ezebelle thinks to herself, her stomach growling. Did I eat today?
"You could say that. My main employment is as a guide to help take those less combat capable through the wilds of Ustalav. The hunting is something I do in my spare time. There is no small amount of evil that lurks in wilds of this country, I just try to do my part to help keep it in check. If someone pays me to do it, all the better. Why do you ask? and what are you making back there? It smells amazing."
"The t-temple should have still have the list the Professor m-mentioned," Edwyn replies, nodding slowly. "Of the people that died in the f-fire. Narrowing their identities down may be d-difficult, but..." The wizard pauses, as though just now remembering something. "D-didn't Utho say he was heading there earlier? Perhaps we c-can find out before it gets late."
Ezra nods to the young wizard, and walks outside mounts her tiger, and spurs the beast towards the temple and, hopefully, Ultho.
"Have fun, you two. I'm going to stick around here a bit." Cassiel says.
He takes a seat in the Lorrimor home's common room.
"F-fair enough."
Returning Ezra's nod, Edwyn tidies the research materials up a bit before joining her outside.
@ the Temple.
Utho returns the smile to the acolyte. "Sir, I am here to speak with whoever is in charge of this temple. I am investigating some strange things that I not only think he will be interested in, but that I believe he can help me with."
"Simply curiosity, but it's good to know someone with your skill set is around. It's easy to forget we're out on the fringes of civilization and when I'm reminded it bothers me to know we're just a fire away from chaos and us versus the wild. But ah I'm just babbling now... that smell? The cloves keeps the stirges away. Few of the damn things were hidin' out up in the attic a week ago. Or you could be referring to that rich savory smell. And that is my specialty: Corpse Stew." At the last remark the bartender grins slightly and his eyes light up - that may have been a joke.
"Ah, very good. That would be Father Grimburrow. Come this way, he is out in the chancel."
The acolyte leads you out of the vestibule and into the main nave and sanctuary. The ceiling of the temple reaches some twenty feet above you, buttressed with light grey stone and thick ionic columns, the indicative spirals where the cylinders meet each buttress. The light is a brilliant array of colors from the stained glass. A large spiral laid in sapphire spans the width of the sanctuary between concentric semicircles of dark brown wooden pews facing the far side, where the acolyte leads you. A wooden door is to the rear and left of the room. A half circle chamber that extends beyond the sanctuary with a domed ceiling is void of all things save father Grimburrow, whom you recognize from the funeral, kneeling before a black plane of glass set into the floor. You can see a mirroring black pane fixed into the top most point of the dome ceiling. Grimburrow's eyes are closed, his hands folded together before him, and his head slightly bowed. A very thorough silence becomes the place and you notice again how this temple seems to be somehow colder than the dim Lamashan air outside.
"Corpse stew you say? Sounds absolutely delightful." Ezebelle laughs. "Though now that you mention a stew, if you have something to eat it would be positively amazing. I seem to have forgotten to eat today in the excitement of.....umm....hmm...."
"walking."
Okay that was less then smooth. Ezebelle stares at the cup of liquid in front of her suspiciously. How strong is this stuff? don't think about that...okay damage control. umm, Divert topic!
"Surely I can't be the only one with this skillset near here? So close to the wilds, and no one that can protect the children? How have you survived this long?"
As far as you can tell, the corpse stew is a joke and is likely not actually made with corpses. The bartender lacks any hints towards a seriously deceptive or demented disposition.
"Well Sheriff Caeller takes good care of us. He's got just the right amount of gumption to search out danger, balanced with a little bit of apathy to make sure he's not chasing around every pickpocket and vandal kid. Him and his deputies can deal with anything we've ever seen and we trust them to tell us if they can't.
I'll get you some stew." He disappears again through the door behind the bar.
Utho stands politely and waits for the priest to finish his prayer. if it seems to be taking too long, he will subtly clear his throat. Once he has the priest's attention, he will regale him with the information found in Professor Lorrimor's book and ask about the store of ghost fighting weaponry, and permission to you use it. "Also, I wonder if you might have any information on the Whispering Way? They seem to be stirring up trouble around here and my companions and I are failry interested in trying to stop them. I thought that if anyone around here, other than a member of the cult, would know anything about these necromancers, it would be a devoted Pharasman such as yourself."
Father Grimburrow stands shortly after your arrival. He seems to notice your presence before you give any indication that you wish to talk to him. He turns to you, processes your face for a moment and then smiles, seeming to recognize you. His face is covered entirely in wrinkles, his eyes squint underneath bushy grey eyebrows and his chin juts out like the peak of a sideways crag. After a greeting and exchange of pleasantries he says, in a voice that cracks with scratch and phlegm. "I do not know of any such stash, although it is possible that it was hidden there long ago and we simply have no record of it. Such is the nature of The Lady of Graves: to hide away forever that which is no longer needed. But I do not doubt her intuition. Perhaps these tools were put away for a reason. As such, I will not give you permission to search for them. It also occurs to me that the others in town would not appreciate visitors looking through old tombs. Such places are sacred, as I'm sure you are well aware.
"As to your inquiry of the Whispering Way, I have not been alerted to their presence in the area recently. I know that they are necromancers, quite dangerous ones at that, and we would surely oppose them, should they appear. What trouble do you speak of? And why do you think they are responsible?"
Feeling that there is no more information to be gained from the tavern Ezebelle heads back to Lorrimor's house, exhausted from the days adventure.
When Ezebelle arrives back at the Lorrimor home, Cassiel is slumped down in a chair in the common room, snoring.
His hat is over his face.
Ezebelle quietly opens the door, and enters the house.
Looks like Cassiel at least had the good sense to stop reading before he passed out this time. I wonder if he learned anything?
Not wanting to wake her snoring friend, Ezebelle sneaks up to her room, and passes out, the alcohol expediting the process.
Utho seems somewhat confused. "Your Grace, it seems odd to me that you would bar us from using tools meant to destroy the worst of all abominations: the undead. We are trying to stop the Whispering Way from gaining a foothold in this area, and you would stop us by denying the tools that we need? Why? Is not undead and the manipulation of the undead the very worst of sins in the eyes of the Lady of Graves?"
Cassiel snores.
And shows no signs of waking as Ezebelle creeps past him up to her room.
Your intuition tells you that Grimburrow is speaking the truth. He is perhaps a bit dismissive, but speaking his mind none the less.
"The undead are a great transgression against Pharasma; however, I see no evidence that they are present. I will not allow any grave site to be looted because of mere suspicions. It's not that I wish to bar your way, but it is my duty to preserve the dead. Entering a tomb weakens the barrier between this world and the worlds beyond. In some cases simply opening the wrong door can trigger a bridge and bring lost souls into our world.
"Also there is the matter of the others in town. If they hear that our visitors are exploring tombs, they might start to believe that the dead may rise. This may cause dissent or even panic. Part of the prevention of the undead also lies in the certainty that spirits of the dead depart this world never to return.
"I will look into our records to see if I have missed something about this cache you mention, but until I find something, or more convincing evidence presents itself, I ask that you leave the Restlands alone.
"Utho, may I ask you why you believe that the Whispering Way is near? Does your God guide you in this matter?"
Utho is still astonished at this man's unwillingness to help. In response to the high priest's last question, he will tell him what they have learned and the evidence they have found that points to the cult. "To be honest, I have not been guided by the Inheritor in this matter. I most ashamedly admit that I have not found the time to ask her yet."
On their way to the Temple of Pharasma, Edwyn struggles through the awkward process of asking the deaf gnome whether she knows any kind of sign language.
"Perhaps you should. I can see you are eager to root out evil, but it is times like these that it is important for men such as us to keep a calm hand. Those who do not align themselves so closely with the divine look to us for guidance when mysteries loom beyond the light of civilization. They need to see that we still adhere to our traditions and our sacred ways even when it might be gratifying to put them aside.
When the time comes, you and your companions will have mine and the Temple's full support."
"As you wish." holding his tongue.
Utho will take his leave and return to his companions, telling them of the conversation.
Grimburrow speaks calmly and keeps constant eye contact with you as he does. He seems concerned with your displeasure, but is confident of his words. He bids you goodbye before you leave.
Evening is falling as you leave the Temple. You arrive at Lorrimor Place and fill the others in on your conversations with Grimburrow.
Some time after Utho arrives, Kendra appears to see how you are all doing and asks if you need anything. Her eyes are puffy, with heavy bags underneath and her scleras are laced with thin red lines. Her hair is let down stylishly, if a bit Laissez-faire. She has changed since you last saw her from the dress she wore at the funeral into a casual olive green dress with a double breast and a large collar which is turned down. The dress reaches just beyond her knees and her feet are bare.
Cassiel finally wakes with a start.
"Zz-Huh?! Wha--"
He sighs. He stands up, rubbing his neck.
That's what I get for falling asleep in a chair instead of a bed.
Cassiel looks Kendra over with a smile.
"Nice outfit."
He turns to Utho, listening to how Father Grimburrow wouldn't allow them to investigate the ghost-hunting stash.
"Figures. Can't exactly blame him, though. Not much evidence of undead activity so far."
Ezebelle awakes upon hearing the others come back, and quickly dresses and heads back into the common area.
"Damn rights I can blame him. What good is the equipment if you only have it after the fact. Not like I go out into the woods without arrows, figuring I can go back and get them after I spot the deer. Stupid, shortsighted father." She exclaims, walking down the stairs into the common room.
"Cassiel we'll have to discuss this later." Ezebelle whispers.
Cassiel sighs. "Fine." He whispers back.
He turns to everyone. "Well, I spent the entire day learning more about the Whispering Way than I ever cared to remember. They're a cabal of necromancers that have been around for thousands of years, they're fond of allying themselves with intelligent undead, are known to have undead members, and their most notorious agent was known as the Whispering Tyrant. Or Tar-Baphon, but I'm pretty sure only his wife was allowed to call him that in bed." Cassiel says.
"The Whispering Way itself communicates its plans and philosophies via whispers. Yeah, I know. Revolutionary. I think they tried calling themselves the Whistling Way at some point, but nobody in the group could whistle. Probably because they didn't have any lips." He says in a wry tone of voice.
His face turns serious. "Now, here's the meaty stuff. They're primarily interested in discovering ways to create liches. They typically dispatch agents to haunted locales to conduct field research or to bring back unique specimens. Their symbol is a gagged skull, and they're known to kill off those who know too much about them and mutilate their mouths to prevent anyone from speaking with their souls."
"I think they're also trying to bring their Whispering Tyrant back." He finishes.
"That is grave news." Utho says, clearly not catching the pun. [b["As for the Pharasman, I could not detect any deception, but I can't help but feel he is hiding something. It seems strange that a follower of the Lady of Graves be so passive, even with a lack of evidence. I must pray on this."[/b] With that Utho returns to his quarters.
In his room, he prays. "Oh, Inheritor of Aroden, my lady Iomedae, hear my supplication. I seek wisdom in these dark times. I pray that you would show me some sign of the direction we would take to stop the Whispering Way if they are indeed involved..." he goes on about asking for help. He asks for proof of undead and the necromancer's cult. When finished, he takes out his copy of The Acts of Iomedae and begins reciting the text as he awaits an answer.
Once Utho returns to his room Ezebelle looks at the rest of the group. "I like the man but this is something I don't think he can partake in." Ezebelles states, pausing for good measure before continuing. "I'm pretty sure I know where that stash is hidden."
"And as much as I want to leave a perfectly good weapon just sitting rusting in a crypt, nope can't even pretend, I don't want to do that at all. If the church honestly doesn't know where the stash is, then they aren't going to know if its gone either." Ezebelle not so subtly hints.
"There is s-still information I require of Father Grimburrow," Edwyn says, frowning at the prospect of robbing the Restlands. He knew that it seemed necessary, but... "We have a p-possible motive, but we still d-don't know exactly who the Way is after..."
Ezra passes a note to Edwyn, "I don't really speak any sign languages very well, but I read lips just fine. I will continue to work on talking better. I am deaf after all, not mute."
Cassiel sighs at Ezebelle's hints.
Something tells me I'm not going to like this...
"Then again, there's always the possibility that the church does have records on that stash, and now they'll send a couple of acolytes to safeguard it." He says.
"But I think you do have a point, Ezebelle. The two of us should at least take a look at the place where the stash is hidden."
"It's g-getting late," Edwyn remarks while getting up. "I m-must be getting to bed. I bid you all a good night." The wizard hastily leaves the others, pausing only to bow to Kendra before returning to his room. All the while, he is quite noticeably clutching his amulet.
No, no, surely there has to be another way! I know the Professor sought the tools out... and perhaps we need them. But... if the others must take them, then I...
"I suggest we go tonight if we plan on venturing into the mausoleum while it's still dark out. If you just want to scout out the location then let's do it in the morning." Ezebelle discusses with Cassiel.
Cassiel nods.
"Fair enough. Might as well get going now. I need the fresh air anyway."
He steps out the front door.
"Coming, Ezebelle?"
Finally!
"Not like you could get there on your own. Damn rights I am." Ezebelle calls out following Cassiel out the door. "We need to head to the restlands, the mausoleum was hidden away in a corner of it. Probably should try to not be seen on our way, not sure how receptive these villagers would be to people in the graveyard at night."
"No need to tell me twice."
En route to the mausoleum, Cassiel appears to be stepping on every twig & leaf on the ground.
He cringes. "I knew I shouldn't have spent all day in the library--I'm getting rusty."
When it came time to petition the Church of Aroden for support against the witches, there became a divide. Although the church did staunchly oppose the deeply corrupted coven, they lent not their hand to Iomedae. "Ask not," the presiding priest said to his audience, "for the hand that gives is the hand that takes away of honor. The man who stands for himself is the only one who knows how to stand at all. Only by conquering your own demons do you stand in the glory of Aroden."
Upon leaving the church, Iomedae was approached by her best scout. He reported having found evidence of the witches through his own volition. Being that this scout had earned Iomedae's company, he felt obligated to spend the previous night among the wanton company of bars and gambling houses gathering information. Iomedae saw the honor in that and rewarded her scout with double his pay.
Outside Lorrimor Place the air is crisp and biting. The sky is clear, save a few clouds obscuring a waxing moon. A very light breeze blows, increasing the bitterness and tossing about dead leaves. You can see light radiating from the town proper to the north. Across the river a blue light glows from the belfry of the Temple. To the south the sky is a purple that is nearly black.