Vandy's demeanor becomes serious. "Yes, it is true. Though it is not immediately evident, the Swardlands are slowly failing. The few droughts we have experienced over the past few decades have been minor and relatively short, and the climate remains mild, if winters are perhaps somewhat longer and colder. Yet there has been definite change in the fecundity of the Swardlands. Crop yields are down among even the most profitable farms along the Verdant Passage, and loggers of the Immenwood are finding trees slower to grow and previously harvested sections recovering only partially or not at all. It is said that Aroden blessed these lands, and since he is no longer with us, it seems his blessing is fading.
"Our people have worked harder, become more efficient, and come together for common cause. The Kerrick Grange was established a generation ago to unify the efforts of the growers and give them collective influence and resources in the greater politics of the Isle of Kortos. We have thus far managed to stave off disaster, but things have taken a downturn of late. Within the last year the sweet water spring at the base of the Wellspring Tower has gone dry and a mysterious blight has begun to spread from that location, ruining crops and water sources in an ever-widening expanse around the site. Where it was once safe to take offerings and pay homage at the other aeon towers across the Swardlands, now folk who do tend to disappear or are frightened away, telling tales of strange creatures or lurking marauders. Dark times are descending on the Swardlands, friends, and it is likely that worse is yet to come."
Vandy takes a moment to sip his wine before continuing. "If you're looking to visit the aeon towers, there are three in our area. The Wellspring Tower stands to the north near a road called the Verdant Passage, the Liferoot Stone stands near the Sulwen Hills to the southwest, and the Old Forest Tower stands within the Immenwood to the east."
Grelda gives Ashlion a look of irritation, but then she smirks and whispers something. The barbarian feels something crawling up his leg, and he looks down, he sees the witch's familiar, the winged snake Basil, grinning up at him.
Grelda giggles and whispers back, telling Ashlion just what she wants him to do with his snake later tonight.
When talk turns back to the circus, Vandy recommends that the circus would have the greatest exposure at the four principal settlements of the Swardlands: Kerrick, Matten Cleave, Castinlee, and Turpin Rowe.
As Vandy predicted, during the course of the meal, the bell on the front door rings as townspeople occasionally arrive to view the deceased, a man named Homber Huttonfell. On each of these occasions, Vandy quickly excuses himself and sees to the new arrivals. He ushers them into the viewing parlor, where he leaves them for a few moments to privately pay their respects to the departed before showing them out when they are through. As soon as the townspeople have departed, Vandy always returns and resumes his infectious good cheer; he has done this for many years and is quite accustomed to the practice.
Soon enough, the evening grows late and the conversation begins to die down. The mood at the table palpably dampens as Vandy takes a moment to swallow a bite of food while apparently lost in thought, his face marked by previously hidden lines of worry and exhaustion.
“You have all been such fine company,” he begins, “and I am so thrilled that you have brought your circus of wonders to the good people of the Kerrick Grange. But I suppose I must level with you.
“As I mentioned earlier, times have been hard of late for the Swardfolk. The grange has come together to try and ease everyone’s suffering as much as possible, but the weather has been poor and the crops aren’t growing like they used to; there’s lean times ahead, I fear. But that’s not all. There’re things happening at a much more personal level for me, yet that also seem to be afflicting my friends and neighbors. So you should probably know the truth of it.
“I think that I’m being haunted… and I think that whatever is haunting me is murdering folk of the grange to torment me. It has brought me to the brink of despair, and I admit that I find the thought of your wonderful circus a welcome distraction. Truth be told, though, I doubt it will help in the long run. Even with your circus here, I fear the hauntings—and the deaths—will continue. But I find in your company that you are much, much more than simple circus performers or business managers. You have in you the stuff of heroes, I believe, so I can’t help but allow myself to feel a little bit of hope. Hope that you might be willing to help.”
"Of course we will be willing to help." the cleric offers without thought, "It's become our mantra, it would seem. As we make our way through the towns and bring joy and wonderment to all, we have been spending our days eradicating these unnatural and evil forces that have seemingly overtaken what would have normally been happy lands with gloom and dismay."
Squeezing Tasha's hand, she says "While we make no promises, try to take comfort in the fact that we will do what we can."
Vandy relates the gist of the situation to you. For the last 14 months, he has been experiencing what he believes to be vivid nightmares or actual hauntings. Since the deaths of townspeople have occurred in conjunction with these terrifying visions, he believes they are more than simple dreams. The nightmares always start the same: Vandy awakes late at night—or at least believes he awakens—to find a hollow-eyed young girl standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She wears a funeral shroud, though he does not recognize her as any person he’s ever tended. She always stands for a moment and then leaves the bedroom, disappearing from sight.
On the first few occasions, Vandy was too frightened to follow her. After multiple occurrences, however, he worked up the courage to follow. Each of these times, the girl has always descended the stairs to the viewing parlor, where she stands beside the empty catafalque, silently pointing at it. Vandy always comes awake standing before the catafalque in the viewing parlor, drenched in cold sweat. The young girl is gone, and he is never sure if what he saw was real or if he just sleepwalked there. In any case, the next day there is always a death somewhere in Kerrick or the surrounding area; by nightfall Vandy has a new corpse for his catafalque.
Vandy has not been able to discern much of a pattern among the deaths that have occurred following his nightly visitations. The deceased are of all ages and walks of life, some have been ill, some old, some young and healthy—but all have died unexpectedly in their sleep. There has never been any evidence of foul play, and Vandy has never told anyone of his visitations, but some folk are beginning to talk, and Vandy himself is beginning to develop a crushing sense of guilt as he perceives that he is somehow causing the deaths of his fellow Swardfolk. He is at a loss as to what to do. He has considered going to the local priest, but with the grange already experiencing the stresses of the bad harvests he fears a loss of confidence in its leadership could cause an economic collapse among its members at a time when they’re already vulnerable.
”Please, my friends, if you would be willing to spend any spare time you have as you manage your circus and other affairs to look into the matter, I would be extremely grateful!” he finishes.
Not really knowing anything of the undead or related, Tasha turns to Ruinë to see if, perhaps, she can shed some light on the subject.
Ruinë listens to the man's sad tale, taking in all of the details before trying to place what she thinks this hollow-eyed girl might be or what the nightmares might mean.
She places a reassuring hand over Vandy's and says "Res assured, we will look into this."
The details of Vandy’s haunting aren’t distinct enough to make any conclusions as to the potential cause without other avenues of investigation.
”Thank you! I will assist you in any way that I can,” Vandy says with relief.
Grelda shrugs. ”We could try to stake out this house. We could also look around. Perhaps the culprit left some clues behind.”
Tasha nods at Grelda.
"We'll start by searching around for anything that may give us more information on whatever manifestation this might be. And then we'll stay here tonight to see if anything presents itself."
Ruinë takes Tasha's hand and says "Sounds good. Want to start in the back?" the cleric asks, walking around and beginning to take a look and see what they can find.
"Yes, let's start in the back," Tasha says with a smile. "Unless, of course, you're just trying to get me alone."
The cleric's face scrunches up in confusion "What? No. I was just suggesting we start there. Why would I-" Ruinë's face flushes with embarrassment, averting her gaze and looking at the floor. She whispers "Tasha!"
Searching around Vandy's house uncovers a few things of note. In the viewing parlor, a drawer in an end table contains a number of funeral service–related documents, including a letter from the Kerrick Grange thanking Vandy for his generosity in taking care of the burial expenses of a drunkard named Yungor Swinten, dated 7 years ago.
In the master bedroom, Ruine comes upon a of parchment tucked beneath the desk blotter. It is a handwritten receipt for funeral services for one Rogor Swinten dated 12 years ago and marked as "gratis."
In his office, in adition to years of mundane records, you notice a small tin box that is empty. There is also a large closet off of Vandy's office that is securely locked.
Tom, who has been skulking about, takes it on himself to sneak in.
Tasha chuckles and leans in to press a kiss against the half-elf's forehead. "You are adorable when you blush," she says.
~~~~~
"Yes, that would be a question to ask," the tiefling adds to Ashlion's 'subtle' questioning. She looks to Vandy for a response.
”Swinten? The name doesn’t quite ring a bell. I have been in this business for a long time, and I can’t recall every family that I have had dealings with,” Vandy says, though he seems a bit nervous.
Tom slips away without anybody noticing him, but the secure lock gives him some trouble. After breaking his first tools he keeps trying, eventually getting inside the storage room. Within, among boxes of records and valuables, the rogue uncovers a handwritten note dated 15 years ago that indicates a debt to someone named Rogor Swinten in the amount of 750 gp. The due date written on the note was 10 years past. There is no indication that this debt was ever paid.
Perhaps this will be enough to jog Vandy’s memory.
Indeed, once you show Vandy the notice of debt, he breaks down and confesses the last piece of his story:
Opper Vandy was the son of a gravedigger in Absalom. When his father died young with a broken body and almost nothing to his name after a life of hard work, the younger Vandy wanted more than simply digging holes. Having worked with morticians in Absalom in the course of helping his father, Vandy managed to pick up a bit of the funeral trade. Yet he soon realized that the market for such skills had been cornered in Absalom by the city’s many churches and well-established mortuaries. Without the means to buy himself an apprenticeship with one of the larger operations and no aptitude for the clergy, Opper looked outward beyond the city walls to the rest of the Isle of Kortos to find a locale that might need his services.
Packing his few belongings in his father’s funeral caisson, Vandy hitched an old mule and traveled northwest, eventually arriving in Kerrick. The town’s own undertaker had recently died and Vandy saw an opportunity to set himself up as the new mortician. With little to his name, however, he struggled to acquire the funds necessary to open his funeral parlor until a wealthy and kindhearted local farmer named Rogor Swinten stepped in and offered Vandy a loan. Swinten agreed to the loan privately, with a simple handshake and Vandy’s promise of repayment in 5 years’ time.
Before the loan came due, Swinten died in a farming accident. When the time came for repayment, Swinten’s wife and children knew nothing of the loan he had extended to Opper Vandy. Vandy’s own business was still new and struggling, and repaying the loan at that time would have seriously hurt his chances to remain solvent. When none of the Swinten family came forth to request repayment of the loan, the mortician reasoned that he could just keep quiet and delay a few years in order to pay it back later at even greater interest with no harm done. Unbeknownst to Vandy, though, the Swinten farm had fallen on particularly hard times. Vandy learned only a little of this 3 years later when plague took Rogor’s wife and young daughter and the farm came into the hands of the sole heir, Rogor’s wastrel son, Yungor. The farm went into arrears under Yungor Swinten’s mismanagement and ultimately had to be auctioned off, but Vandy didn’t hear of this until a few months later, when Yungor unexpectedly drowned while drunk. The Swinten line in the Swardlands had ended.
Sick with guilt over the family’s misfortunes and his own part in unknowingly exacerbating them by withholding payment, Vandy found that there was no one left to whom he could repay the money. Shame stilled his tongue. Even as he threw himself into efforts to better his community and give back by joining the local grange, he felt he’d never be the good, honest man he once was. He was elected as Master of the Grange 10 years ago, but carried his shame with him the whole time.
Vandy never met Swinten’s deceased daughter, and he fears that the hollow-eyed girl in his dreams might be her ghost, punishing him for not paying back her father’s loan. Vandy is stricken with guilt that she might be taking his secret sin out on his neighbors.
Ruinë keeps a stoic expression throughout the tale, but inside she feels the man's shame and tragedies that have occurred around him. When he concludes his story, she nods "Oh my. I'm so sorry this has happened.
That is a logical assumption that it is the daughter. Thank you for sharing this history, it will better position us to help you and the people here. We must find a way to quiet these unsettled spirits. We may want to make a visit to the Swinten grounds."
Tasha nods in agreement with the half-elf.
"Yes, we will visit what was their farm and then where they've been buried," she says.
"The Swinten farm was near the town of Matten Cleave," Vandy offers. "That's where they were buried as well. If they are haunting me, I hope you can put their angry souls to rest!"
You head back to your circus to rest for the night and plan your next move.
After consulting her star charts from the previous night, Grelda approaches the group as you are finishing your breakfast. "We have several routes of investigation open to us. The stars will guide us to success. Where shall we begin?"
Tasha announces to the family that they're heading first to the small town of Matten Cleave. They will be the first recipients of the Wayward Wonders form of magic.
"And while we're there, we'll take a look at the farm that was previously owned by the Swintens," she adds to the inner circle.
The people of Kerrick are understandably disappointed that the circus's first performance won't be in their town, but they wish you well as you gather your wagons and journey northeast along the Verdant Passage towards Matten Cleave.
You are a few miles away from the town when you hear sudden yells and frightened howling just over the next rise. A traveling group of small, furry humanoids has come upon trouble. A tipped handcart is surrounded by scattered turnips. Two of these doglike people—known as shoonies—cling to the side of this overturned cart and shout for help. Several shoonies scramble about, seeking safety, as the furrowed ground of the surrounding grasslands is periodically broken by great, finlike protuberances that rise up in bursts of loose soil and then sink again as they travel in ever-tightening circles around the terrified travelers.
Grelda casts haste upon Ashlion and begins moving towards the imperiled shoonies. "Get in there, husband!"
Before Ashlion moves off, the cleric casts guidance on him to help him on his next action. She then moves forward with the others, getting closer.
Tom runs into action, {A}{A}Double Striding up and unleashing a single knife at a landshark!
Tasha draws her blade and moves to defend the travelers.
Ashlion fails to hurt the land shark, but Tom’s dagger sinks into a gap in the fin’s scales. With a mighty roar, the enormous bulette bursts from the ground and leaps through the air, coming down next to Tom and raking him with its claws! The other three landsharks continue circling the shoonies...
Tom makes a gesture with his left hand and {A}Jumps back 30ft away from the monster, unleashing 2 knives mid-air!
Tasha remains where she's at, attempting to keep herself between the creatures and the travelers. If any approach, she stabs with her blade in an attempt to drive them off.
Grelda casts phantasmal killer on the bulette attacking Tom!
Ruinë attacks the bulette with a band of scorching flames.
Between Grelda's spell, Ashlion's attack of opportunity, and a fiery ray from Ruine right between the eyes, the first bulette falls! Tasha moves to defend the shoonies while Ashlion and Tom target a second land shark. Ash comes up a little short, but Tom lands two good dagger hits.
The landshark repeats the same mistake as its companion, prioritizing the foe that hurt it over the foe in front of it. It leaps out of the ground as it charges Tom, opening itself up to attack from Ash. Tom manages to dodge its initial attacks, but a follow-up claw rips open his belly!
Meanwhile, the other two bulettes emerge from the ground and chomp down on some of the turnips on the ground. They quickly spit them out in disgust, then turn their beady eyes on Tasha and the shoonies...
"SORA! My GUTS!"
Tom shifts his focus on one of the landsharks circling Tasha!
Tasha stabs at the nearest creature with her blade and then snarls at , baring her black teeth.
"I'm here, Tom!" the cleric says, the fire in her eyes fading as she takes note of more pressing matters. She slides in beside him and goes to work on his wounds as quick as she can.
You seem to be having a rough go of it. The bulette attacking Tom resists Grelda’s phantasmal killer, and while the rogue lands one dagger hit, Ash and Tasha both miss and the tiefling fails to demoralize her foe. Each bulette attacks with jaws and claws, Ash getting the worst of it,
Tom keeps doing what he does best and hurls his mirror polished knives!
Proving resistant to intimidation, Tasha settles for the expedience of simply stabbing the creature to death.