The Sergeant scratches his notes into his notepad, looks up at Hob at the mention of a ghost, then scratches again.
He looks up again as Mitchell addresses him, straightening up, "Yessir, a bit irregular, this business....but seeing as you're in charge, I can leave satisfied it will be taken care of."
He tucks his notebook away, then addresses Mitchell's second request, "Town records should have all of the owners of this piece of land all the way back to the city's founding..." the Sergeant suggests, then with a sharp salute to Mitchell and a nod to the others, gathers up his guardsmen and departs.
The noise of the renovation begins again as all of the workers who'd been watching suddenly get back to work.
"I can look into that, I'll have the information in no time.... depending on bureaucracy and how far back we want to check."
"You know technically on those 42JR forms unless you answer yes in part two you really don't need to fill out part five and seven." Hob made a handy point to save the clerk from needless bureaucracy.
"Thank you Sergeant. I'll be sure and let your superior know of your sound judgement and efficiency". Mitchell opens the doors for the departing guards with a smile and a slight bow of the head. "Tally Ho Gentlemen".
Mitchell goes along with Hob to help push things through the sometimes convoluted process of gathering information.
After the excitement of a visit from the Watch dies down, the guildsmen get back to work, the only disruptions the occasional near violent argument between apprentices; the older guildsmen seem to have more sense.
If there were any qualms about working in a building the supposedly had ghosts, none was evident.
Taliree finds a quiet spot to watch to goings on while Hob and Mitchell run off to the townhall to procure title documents on the Manor. As she was watching the too and fro, she noticed an apprentice carrying a wooden container full of mortar towards the tap room fireplace. He jammed his foot on a piece of wood and began to teeter towards the wall, where a number of panes of glass had been leaned against. Acting quickly, she grabbed the boy before he crashed into the glass. The boy's master...and father was grateful enough that he offered to reduce his fee by 50 gold.
Returning to her spot, Lif , who'd otherwise been quiet, sat noisily beside Talliree and kept her company; he seems to approve of the improvements.
At townhall, Hob's knowledge of the intricacies of municipal recordkeeping helps keep the civil servants on their toes and it only takes two hours for the clerk to hand over the requested document.
When they return, the find the workers cleaning up for the night. The thought of night brings back the events of the previous evening...
For this evening, the kitchen is unavailable as the oven is in the process of being rebuilt. The fireplace in the taproom is usable , as it those in the upper floors.
Talliree's mood lifts somewhat after saving the apprentice from himself and having Lif keep her company. However, when the tavern empties except for her and her companions, she becomes far more skittish.
"Do you think something'll happen again tonight," she asks the others as they cook their supper.
Despite Talliree's misgivings, the evening and night pass with no ghostly events. All, however, do have a disturbing dream wherein the dreamer is a little child, running down an endless corridor from what appears to be a bubbling, frothing cauldron floating through the air behind. The cloying smell of stew fills the dreamer's nose and when they awoke a hint of the smell stayed with them
The day dawns grey and cool, workers arriving in groups and setting to the day's work.
Hob finds one guildsman muttering angrily to himself on the steps. Seems that a few of his helpers had neglected to arrive that morning. Various curses and admonishments about youth today serve to have Hob step up and volunteer his magical assistance. Conjuring his unseen servant, he help the tradesman carry loads of bricks up to the upper stories for work on the chimney's there. In gratitude, the guildsman lowers his fee by 50gp.
Later, a dispute between two guildsmen brings work on the walls on the second floor to a halt. Mitchell hears the argument and steps in, hearing both sides and convincing the guildsman in the wrong to admit his fault. The other guildman in gratitude lowers his fee by 10gp.
At the end of the day, the Manor is mostly dismantled. The kitchen oven is still laying open and unusable and the taproom has become a storeroom for building materials. Tonight, the others will have to join Mitchell in the upper stories for a place to sleep.
"I'm going to ask around with some of the neighbours and see if they can remember this Esther Greybrow. It's thirty years back but some of the residents might have lived in the neighbourhood around then, especially amongst some of the longer lived races! I'll try the Book Wyrm's Treasure first."
Hob sets off with any who want to dig up some more details! He'll ask around with a few of the locals but will definitely be swinging by the Book Wyrm's Treasure to gather a few more details. Hob knocks on the door when he enters. "Hello I'm looking for Rishaal?"
Needing to get out of the house after the nightmare, Talliree tags along with Hob. While out and about, she decides that she might be able to pick up some information from people talking.
The Book Wyrm's door opens and the warm dry air from within, redolent with the scent of books , greets Hob and Talliree as the enter.
Rishaal himself greets you, "Hello, my friends, how goes the renovations?"
Talliree nods a greeting, but otherwise keeps silent. The events of the past couple of nights have unnerved her and brought back memories that she would rather had stayed forgotten.
Mr. Whiskers huddles next to Talliree, bringing her a little comfort with his warm, fuzzy body and tickling whiskers. He gladly accepts the petting that Talliree gives him, and is thankful that the melancholy that has taken hold of her doesn't have too firm a grip on her.
Seeing that things seem to be progressing and fairly, Mitchell decides it is time he devoted some time to Waukeen. He will spend the day serving at the temple to his patron deity, and making contacts among the local clergy. He will return to the manor by nightfall feeling better about his soul.
"Largely well, these things take time. A few ghosts knocking about the place but these things happen! I really think leaning into it and coming up with a name involving spirits is the way to go."
"On that note though were you here a few decades back when it was an orphanage or no any locals who would have been? We're trying to track down details about an Ester Greybrow who ran it."
Hob can't help but examine some of the books surrounding them with interest.
Rishaal looks over from where he was placing a book on a nearby shelf, "Ghosts , you say? Sounds like the beginning of a good story!" the dragonborn chuckles, then listens to Hob's question.
"No, I only opened my shop 6 years ago...Hmm, one of my regulars, Owein , he's been living on the Alley for sometime, apparently. He might know aught of this Ester you mentioned. He lives in 524, apartment C, I believe. " he says, then thinks a bit, "Ghosts...orphanage. Sounds like the story might take a grim turn."
"I'm afraid you're right," Talliree says softly at Rishaal's observation.
Hob nods after Talliree's statement. "Still a bit of investigation would be best. For later on though do you have any spellbooks that can be rented so to speak to gain access to them? When time and funding allows it might be best to consider expanding my repetoire."
Once they were done there Hob intended to track down this Owein.
Rishaal gives Talliree a look of concern, but is then distracted by Hob's mention of more commerical activities, motioning Hob deeper into his store, "This way..."
He leads you to an alcove blocked by an iron gate, within the walls are lined with books bound with exotic leathers. In the middle of the room a table, with ample ink and quills for scribing. "When you wish to copy a spell, let me know and I will allow you within..." Rishaal says, looking upon his little magical repository with pride.
He then looks at Hob shrewdly, "Remember I will give you a discount if you can solve my paper problem..."
"I don't think Mitchell'll let us," Talliree says, a small, but genuine, smile touching her lips and lighting her eyes for a moment.
"I have some notions but they are quite long term, for now our current enterprise deserves my focus."
"What's that. Oh he believes in robust trade. I'm sure he'd be pleased."
"Which is why he won't let us forget," Talliree chuckles as her smile turns into a grin. "Did I speak elven or something and not realize it, Hob?"
"We should seek out Owein, keep focused on the task at hand. I can get a bit caught up. You've got a lovely selection."
"It was nice seeing you again," Talliree calls out, managing to sound a little more like her normal self, as she and Hob leave.
Mitchell returns just before dark almost glowing with the effects of spending a day devoted to Waukeen, and socializing with those of similar beliefs.
"So What's for dinner? Looks like some progress was made today. What did everybody else do?"
Hob and Talliree find number 524 tucked in beside the Steam and Steel , one of the owners Embric waving hello as they walk by.
The apartment building is tidy and well kept, apartment C places at the top of a very, solid set of stairs.
Knocking brings a very old man to the door, "Yesssss, can I helpsss you?" he says, one side of his mouth droops lending his voice a slurry sibilance.
Talliree steals her nerves and answers the man.
"Hello, we're the new owners of Trollskull Manor, and we'd heard that you might be able to tell us more about the previous owners. C-could we come in and talk," she asks in a voice that tremors with just a hint of fear.
The old man blinks at Talliree for a moment, then nods , "Yesh, yesh....The Manor wassss there before thissss ssssstreet was named after Trollsssssh!" he sputters, waving you into the apartment.
The apartment is neatly organized, if quite dusty. The old man putters around, talking the entire time, "Wasss a time the Alley was called Lormaundeir's Sssskulk, after a nasssty piecssse of busssinesss ...a ssssmuggler I think. " he pauses, thinking, then continuing, "Way back in the 1260ssss, after the Shadow Thievesssss guild collapsssssse, some wizard magicked in some trollsss to sssstir up trouble. A nice wizard burned them Trollssss up, but left the bonesssss. Ssssome youth'ssss took to rolling the skullssss about....people called it Trollsssskull ever ssssince!
He pauses in the middle of the room, wiping spittle from his lip, looking at you in confusion for a moment, then his eyes brighten, "But, you were wondering about the Manor's old ownersssss...any of them in particular?"
Hobs eyes light up like a dwarf who has found a vein of gold... this man clearly new a thing or two about local history. "Ester Greybrow who ran the orphanage if you'd be so kind!"
"And if there were any children that went missing in the manor," Talliree asks after a moment of hesitation.
Mr. Whiskers nuzzles the young woman's neck with a comforting squeak as he hears the trepidation in her voice.
Owein's bushy eyebrows rise up, "Old Esssster, eh? Powerful perssssonality in that one! Had her over for tea a number of timessss....if we'd both been 40 yearssss younger! HAHHHAHHAH" he laughs, then takes a seat in a dusty chair.
His face takes on a more sober mein, "Of course....the children. No one had any idea, of course, she hid what wasss going on ssssso well" he says, then in a fake 'old lady' voice, "Well officsssser, they must have run away!"
He shakes his head, "Eventually, ssssssome enterprisssssing do-gooderssssss caught on to her and one night a crowd pulled her out into the sssssstreet and...well, there wassssssn't much left of her after that!" he says with a shrug.
He leans back in the chair, causing a puff of dust to rise up , saying as he looks at Hob, "Now, laddie, what in the world would get you to come lookin' for me to talk about ol' Esssster ?"
Talliree shivers as Owein relays what had happened when Ester had owned the manor. She was still young enough to imagine what kind of hope such a kind-looking woman would have offered to someone like her, and the thought that such hope could be turned on its head is nothing short of terrifying to her.
"We might have ummm found some of the kids, whats left of them you see. Do you remember any more details, who were the do gooders, what time of year was it? We can tell the year obviously." He licks his lips and pauses before leaning in closer. "Was there any kind of funeral for her, her spirit isn't exactly resting easy and the more we found out the more unsettling having her linger isn't too nice what with what she was up to."
Owein purses his lips in thought, then shakes his head, "Naw, they were adventurin' types....like yourself. A dime a dozen in this town, then and now!" he exclaims, laughing.
He shakes his head, "No rites for one such as that, cursing an' swearing till the end she was! Not surprised if her ain't resting true...wasn't the nicest of deaths, I figure, however deservin'!"
He then turns his eye on Talliree, "Yer a quiet one, eh? Quiet as the mousy there hiding in yer collar! You gots any questions for ol' Owein?"
Talliree nearly jumps out of her skin when Owein addresses her, and it takes a moment for her to compose herself enough to not let her voice turn squeaky.
"D-did any of the children survive," she asks quietly.
Owein gives Talliree a wide, crooked-tooth smile, "Ah, she speaks...good...good! Not to worry, many children were taken from the orphanage when Ester was killed. Hmmm, I think fifteen....maybe twenty all told! " he crows, face alight, as if remembering freeing those children himself!
The lines on his face then deepen with sorrow, "But, how many perished at the hands of that b$@&!? We'll never know..." he says, his shoulders slumping, as if in defeat. You're fairly certain that despite his earlier deflections, Owein was probably one of the do-gooders that took Ester down, and now his old self-recriminations are coming back to bother him...
"I'm sorry," Talliree says quietly, not meaning to have aggravated old wounds.
"Thank you this could really help. Is there any chance you recall where any of the children went or their names... they'd be older now of course but they might have useful insights. If you can't recall I understand. What you've told us so far will really help and once we've got that and the other things sorted I'll have to pay for a meal and a drink for you at our new establishment!" Hob smiles broadly even the dour discussion can't keep his spirits down for long.
Owein waves away Talliree's apology, "No need...no need. I'm just an old man wallowing in what may have's and might have been's..."
He perks up at the mention of a free meal, unconsciously licking his lips, "The orphans....they scatter'd to the winds, those that t'wern't put up at some of the other orphanages, " he says shrugging, " I was just glad to have got them away from Ester....at least they had a chance..."
"If Ester's g-g-ghost is still around, how, uh, how mean-spirited is she likely to be, from not at all to dragon looking for the thief that stole its horde?"
"Talliree, settle your nerves. If her spirit is likely to go after someone it's likely myself. I'm the only member of the group with the appropriate stature." Hob says half soothingly and a bit absentmindedly.
He blinks as his own observation settled in before turning to Owein "That said there's no harm in you speculating... also is there anything else she was attached to?"
Owien ponders for a moment or two, then says, "The old hag lived for the children, even when she was eating some of them! Can't say she didn't give them a roof over their heads and a place to lay their heads....but the price...oh, the price some of them paid!"
"Can't say I ever heard her raise a hand or voice against anyone...until we came fer her that is. Kept on about coming back an' getting us...we kil't her quick then, to keep her from cursin' us and all..."
After rambling on so, he settles back into the chair, his head nods, chin resting on his chest and a gentle breathy buzz begins to rise from his mouth.
Hearing that Ester ate some of the children doesn't do Hob's attempt at calming the increasingly jittery half-elf.
Fortunately, the shock of learning that fact made Talliree sit stock-still as the color drains from her face.
"I don't think I'm going to be sleeping tonight," she whispers to Hob after a moment.
"We'll definitely be keeping watch, the construction work may have disturbed her. If not then once she figures out we're evicting her to the afterlife she surely deserves will rouse her to action." Hob considers how best they they can fight such a creature with their current resources. "Thank you Owein, we've got a better idead of what we've got on our hands... now when you say hag, I really hope you don't mean in the academic sense do you?"
"I think he fell asleep, Hob," Talliree points out before starting to make her way to the door.
Hob looks up and then his eyebrows dart up. "Oh, yes you're right. Lets leave him sleep so." Hob gets a nearby blanket and puts it over Owein's legs to keep him from getting cold.
"We should head back and tell the others about everything we've found out. I mean it's not much but it's grim and important."
"Grim's right. Honestly the idea of a sweet person taking me in then eating me for supper is worse than just about anything else I've ever seen on the streets."
Talliree shivers and draws her cloak tight around her to ward off the chill as she nuzzles Mr. Whiskers to let him know she'll be alright.
Hob and Taliree step out of the apartment building, their cloaks are swept up by a gust of wind....seems it might be a cold night.
In fact, seems that your conversation with Owein took longer than you thought, daylight was already dwindling, the shadows growing longer along Troll Skull Alley...