"Not a bad plan," Milo agrees, setting the bread down and going to wash his hands at the sink.
Emm waves away the brandy. ”I shall have to make it from scratch. When I make it with wine, kykeon requires a dry, austere dark red.” She gathers a bread knife and begins cutting slices for all who want some. ”The sheriff first sounds fine. Do we even know where Antrellus lives?”
House Lorrimor becomes hive, busy bees seeking sustenance, and finding it, in both super-solid and pressed liquid forms. And what bees' breakfast is complete without honey? From the cupboard, and from Draznoi personal stores, you leverage additives to more thoroughly enjoy porridge and bread.
When breakfast is finished, the Bereaved come to an understanding. Antrellus is an intriguing pursuit, and what better way to begin an investigation than with the local law enforcement agent? Locking up Lorrimor Place, you depart for Ravengro Jail, hoping to speak with Sheriff Caeller.
For Marinus's late morning rise from bed, you are well into the farmers' day as you approach the Town Square. The buildings welcome you with various facades. Remembering Councilman Hearthmount's visit the previous day, you acknowledge the Silk Purse to your right. Its sign is the best kept of those along the Town Square, a golden spider suspending a purple purse from its six spinnerets. A couple of older women stand on the stoop, reviewing a single piece of parchment.
The Silk Purse is run by Luramin Taigh and Quess Yearburn, human experts skilled in moneylending. They are protected by eight mercenaries.
It is known locally that the partners occasionally sell farmers' collateral to make good on loans which fall through.
To your left, you all can hear the pounding of an anvil, indicating the building's function as Forge, though it has no signage on any aspect of its exterior.
The owner of the Ravengro Forge is a middle-aged female dwarf by the name of Jorfa. She is more of an institution than a neighbor. She is a tightly-guarded secret asset of this little village.
Crossing the Square, you can hear the sound of a teacher's calls, and the children's responses. It comes from the Town Hall building, which currently functions as schoolhouse. A familiar-looking dog reclines just to the side of the front doors.
Next to the Town Hall is last night's accommodations for Elsbeth Bicknell, the recently departed... from Ravengro. The Outward Inn is a rustic two-story construction, its first floor walls made of stone, the second story made of wood. The sign above its front doors sports the Inn's title swaddled in a winding blanket.
The Outward Inn is owned by Sarianna Vai, a human singer, now retired, who once sung in the grand halls of Caliphas. She is known to perform from time to time in her common room, given enough encouragement.
Across the main vein from the Jail stands Ravengro's General Store. A bold wooden board sports its name, the letters styled as various sundries. The letter 'G' is an odd-looking scythe, while the letter 'S' is winding hemp. It is commonly known to stock all the essentials. A teenage girl is currently sweeping the porch. She looks up from her chore, regarding you for a moment, before remembering herself.
The store is owned by Luthko and Marta Avenaki, and run with the help of their five daughters.
As you pass the central gazebo to the left, you also spy Jominda Fallenbridge's Apothecary. A mortar and pestle is twice painted on each side of the front door.
Entering the Jail, you find yourselves in the middle of a conversation.
"I'm telling you, it was blood, Sheriff. You only have to take a walk yourself to prove it to your own eyes." A young man presses his hands onto the desk, his face imploring the man behind it.
"Calm yourself, Mellum. You sure the blood wasn't just thumping behind your eyes, so late at..." The man behind the desk stops talking as you enter and approach. The young man follows his lead, and stops talking himself.
"You folks need something?" The man must be either Sheriff Caeller, or one of his deputies. Milo can confirm that it is the former.
Passing the teenager, Marinus waves. Outwardly, he seems to be showing signs of bashful attraction.
Entering the sheriff's office, he eyes the young man with naked interest. He waits for his adult-bodied colleagues to speak up.
Millicent smiles, restraining a joyful laugh. Marinus is still a teenager in some ways, perhaps. As for her, her interest was more in this matter the young man is reporting on. "We do require something, but I would not presume to interrupt, particularly whatever bloody business this young man is reporting."
Mellum takes his hands off the desk. "I was just leaving." The youth makes good on his declaration, and works his way through your crowd, intent on exiting the Jail.
Sheriff Caeller doesn't bid the young man to stay and finish, while he looks back to you, his eyes a mixture of interest and mistrust.
"Well, looks like you're no longer interrupting." The Sheriff realizes his poor form, and stands, removing his hat. "Oh, and sorry for your loss."
Marinus collects himself, wiping away psychic drool as Mellum passes.
"Um, Mellum, maybe we can help. Once we're done talking to the sheriff, I mean. Or now, if you like."
He winces at himself for seeming overly eager.
Mellum gives Marinus a brief look-over, before moving past the teenager. "I've told all I know to the Sheriff. If you're curious, you could do worse than stroll out to the Town's Memorial, and see for yourself." Mellum shoots Sheriff Caeller with a withering glare, before leaving the Jail.
The Town's Memorial is located along the riverbank towards the south side of town.
Other than the looming ruins of Harrowstone on a nearby hill, Ravengro’s most distinctive landmark is a 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue that overlooks the river. The statue depicts a proud, muscular human man dressed in leathers and wielding a truncheon. The memorial is a popular meeting spot for late-night trysts among Ravengro’s young lovers, for it has just the right mix of tragic romance and spooky ambience.
Ajir notes the presence of The Outward Inn as he walks by.
Content to wait, Ajir is surprised that the Sheriff takes the party's calling over the business at hand.
"Thank you for seeing us, Sheriff. We appreciate your condolences. Honest truth as to our visit, the Professor was in good health last we saw, and we realized none of us were informed as to the means of his passing. Could you tell us what he passed from, and the means by which he was found?"
Sheriff Caeller looks to Ajir. He waits for a moment to answer, before nodding to himself. "She didn't tell you then. Kendra came to me, concerned her father hadn't returned home at nightfall. Said he'd been observing Harrowstone's surrounds for some research, so I took some men up to look around, and we found him." The Sheriff looks Ajir over, weighing his next words. "Some stone fell on him. His visit was closed-casket, if you know what I mean."
"Mister Sheriff, sir, did it strike you as strange that the stone had fallen? I've heard Harrowstone's abandoned, but it seems pretty rare for stones to strike a man dead of their own accord. Well, rock slides happen, I guess."
"Sure. But he was old. Probably couldn't hear his death falling." The Sheriff regards Marinus, and his youth. "Rock slides happen, of course. Just strange that the only bone broken was his skull..."
Millicent nods respectfully as Mellum leaves. They shall have to investigate this memorial later on.
"Not that old, I assure you. Did the stone, by chance, damage his jaw?"
"If you're being specific, then yes. The whole head being crushed would include the jaw. Of course, I'm no doctor..."
Sheriff Caeller seems a little irritated by Milovic's presence.
Millicent is focused too intently on her current line of inquiry to make notice of much else. She straightens her back at the man's tone, but she restrains herself. "Thank you. I merely wanted to be specific. The vagueries of language can cause misunderstandings, and I wish to avoid them." It's certainly a convenient injury for an accident.
"No. Of course not Millie!" Sebastien replies. "There is certainly nothing wrong with using the tools available to you to make one's life easier. I just meant as, Ajir pointed out, that it's better not to create a dependency that isn't necessary."
Sebastien shrugs as Mari helps himself to a second cup. "Sure. Go for it. I won't be needing it."
Sebastien keeps quiet through most of the conversation leaning against the wall by the door but pipes up at the mention of a rock slide. "Out of curiosity, did you see any other sets of footprints or indication someone else might have been out there?"
"Interesting. I'll have to ask Milo about that after we leave." he thinks to himself.
"Where in Harrowstone did you find him?"
Someone seeking knowledge, dark or otherwise, from the lips of the dead, do require an intact mouth to functionally communicate, odd as that might be for a corpse.
"Out of curiosity, did you see any other sets of footprints or indication someone else might have been out there?"
"Where in Harrowstone did you find him?"
"The Courtyard. And no, the rains confused any sense of the scene of the accident." Sheriff Caeller falls back into his seat.
"You mind if I ask my own questions? I'm starting to feel like I'm being interrogated over my work. Petros is buried, I hear you've already poured over his will, and here you are, trying to establish something to your satisfaction. What exactly are you getting at, with all your questions?"
"Well, mister sheriff, sir, we feel a duty to make sure Ms. Kendra is safe. With all the rumors about Harrowstone being haunted, we want to make sure nothing dangerous is out there. That there wasn't foul play."
His voice grows quiet in a ploy to draw Caeller's attention in. "My nana once said that priests can talk to the dead, but not if the head's been crushed. Maybe someone was making sure he stays quiet."
Milo is once again quiet and content to let others do the talking. He hadn't had his stammer as a boy, and he's reluctant to show it off more than necessary.
Or perhaps it's just that seeing all these old stomping grounds from his youth has him in a pensive, melancholy mood.
Sensing nothing amiss, Milo only looks up uncertainly at the invocation of 'I'm not a doctor', before returning his gaze to his feet.
When the sheriff says his bit about feeling interrogated, Milo twists his hands before him in an apologetic way.
"We... we don't mean to make you fuh-feel questioned, Sheriff Caeller. It's only thaa-at, corre, correspondence from the late professor indicates he did feel there might be a-- a threat, you see. Isn't it a little-- convenient that a man feels-- a danger-- and then shortly thereafter turns up d-dead?"
It's too bad he couldn't have seen the body, he thinks to himself.
Sheriff Caeller gives Marinus the same regard he gave Mullen. Very little. He instead turns to Milo. "You've got the correspondence?"
Ajir produces a piece of parchment from a pouch.
"I took the liberty of transcribing the relevant notes from the other many studies of our prestigious academic. His words, but in my hand."
When Ajir hands the sheriff the note regarding The Way, he watches his expressions carefully, while trying to mask his own interest in the sheriff's reaction.
Caeller considers. The paper rests on the table for a pregnant pause, before the Sheriff reaches across the desk, and picks it up. He starts reading. When he's finished, he sets it back down on the table within Ajir's reach.
"So we're fools, huh? At least we don't trifle with things best left undisturbed. No one goes up to Harrowstone, if they know what's good for them. We retrieved his body in the light of day, and even then, it felt like we weren't welcome."
Sheriff Caeller stands. "Now, I just hope Kendra doesn't call on me a second time, asking someone to retrieve your bodies from Harrowstone."
A faceless voice calls from the cells beyond.
"Send them packing, Sheriff. They ain't nothing but trouble."
You recognize the voice, as soon as the Sheriff responds. "Not another word, Percy. You've got your own company to keep, so keep your voice down, or you'll wake him up."
Sheriff Caeller turns back to you. "Anything else you need? Otherwise, I've got my rounds to do."
He's interested in what's produced, but it's difficult to know what fuels it.
Ajir reclaims his notes, an eyebrow raised at the sound at the voice of yesterday's scuffler.
"May I speak with the prisoner Percy?"
Millicent does all she can to keep herself from rolling her eyes at the sheriff. Maybe if they told him someone was threatening private property and the production of capital and rent collection he’d do something. Useless. Perhaps even more than useless if he’s a part of the conspiracy. She restrains her rancor, though, recognizing it would be of little use here.
”We were also curious about that Antrellus fellow. Do you know much about him? Perhaps where his abode is, if any?”
Caeller frowns. "Don't you think you've said enough? No, I think you're better off keeping to yourselves. You've stirred the pot enough, with your visit to the Laughing Demon." When Millicent asks another question, the Sheriff regards her, his face failing to register the librarian's distaste.
"Antrellus? Oh, the homeless guy. I've never tracked him out of town. He seems to respond to folks thumping him when he gets grabby, so we leave him alone."
By his tone, Sheriff Caeller is among those thumpers.
Millicent flattens her lips as she picks up on the subtext of the sheriff's information. She is hardly surprised that a "law enforcement" officer would beat up homeless--and likely mentally ill--people. Disgusting. She may have been jocular to the man's ramblings, but that hardly compares to beating the poor man. Her Desnan friend would always say that "we have more in common with any homeless vagrant than with any king or merchant prince," and Emm could not agree more. Anyone that would beat a homeless person would just as well beat anyone else, if they thought they could get away with it.
She does not say any of that though. She bows her head in a curt, but polite, nod. "Thank you for your assistance." She turns to leave. "I have what I came for. I will meet the rest of you outside."
Milo narrows his eyes at the sheriff's response..... and the implications that he sees nothing wrong with a 'thumping.'
"I think we've taken enough of your time. G-good day, Sheriff."
Although oblivious to the unstated implications of the sheriff's words, Marinus gathers enough from his overt attitude. "You're no fool, Mister Sheriff, sir. Sounds like you know just what you're about. This town couldn't deserve a better sheriff!"
He says all this with cheer and apparent innocence. Nope, no sarcasm here.
He follows Millicent out, openly fuming when he thinks the sheriff can't see him anymore. He gives his new companion a look that reads, What a vile scumbag.
"Shall we pack a picnic and head to the Town's Memorial?"
Also unaware of the underlying tone of the Sherrif's comments Sebastien nods in agreement with Milo and Mari as he files out of the jail.
"Sounds like a plan. Let's check out the monument."
Once outside....
"It's as g-good a place to start as any," Milo agrees, hands jammed again in his pockets and shoulders hunched to his ears.
"Per-- haps I should not have brought up the-- Professor's fuh-fears. He seemed-- interested. And, and it's-- disheartening, to know the, the supposed lawman of my hometown sees nothing ill with ss-striking a fellow such as this Antrellus..."
Sebastien falls into step alongside Milo. "Hey Doc, before I forget what's the Sheriff's issue with you? He didn't seem to happy to see you."
The Bereaved take their leave of Ravengro Jail.
The return to the Lorrimor Place is uneventful, for the most part. Classes are still in session, dog still lazes about, and girl still sweeps, though this time, you see Mellum standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the General Store, talking with her. She suppresses a smile when she sees your group passing through the Town Square.
You find various noshes to fill a basket, and so armed with sustenance, you set off for the Town's Memorial. It takes very little time, though the way is somewhat circuitous, as you respect property lines making your way to the river bank.
A 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue stands on a stone pedestal, adjacent to the river. The statue depicts a proud, muscular human man dressed in leathers and wielding a truncheon—a depiction of Warden Hawkran. A total of 25 names are chiseled into the statue’s stone base. You can easily recognize two of the names, as they both end in Hawkran. Lyvar and Vesorianna Hawkran.
These are the names of the 23 guards who died in the fire of 4661, as well as Lyvar and Vesorianna Hawkran, warden and wife.
Across the Warden's back and pedestal is a single letter "V" painted in red, on stone. There are red droplets about the area, as well.
It is, in fact, blood. What kind of blood is nigh impossible to ascertain.
Beyond the Memorial Statue is an overgrown garden and fountain, as well. The garden’s hedgerows of white roses have become wild and half-merged with the surrounding undergrowth from lack of tending, but lend a fey beauty to the memorial park, and it is popular for romantic rendezvous with a hint of danger. The pale gravel of the footpath is half-overgrown with grass, weeds, and wildflowers, while fountain and memorial alike show marks of weathering to accompany a patina of dirt and clinging moss.
The fountain itself is in two parts, a lower cruciform basin with four pools surrounding a central pillar. The 4-foot high pillar supports an upper basin 8 feet across and ringed by four stone gargoyles which support the basin’s fluted lip. Water spills between the gargoyles into the lower basins toward a central drain and thence into the nearby river. Water burbles a few feet in the air from the upper bowl, from which clean water can be drawn for drinking while the lower basins can be used for bathing or washing. The fountain is in disrepair, with several of the gargoyles having suffered large chips and broken stonework, though the basins are intact.
The fountain is known locally as The Murmuring Fountain. It is so named for the strange, susurrant voices intermixed with the gurgling of the fountain water. No two persons listening to the strange murmurings ever agree on the words that seem to be spoken by the just barely indecipherable whispering voice. To one, it may seem the voice of a lost love, to another the voice of a hated rival. Despite local attempts at repair of the stone gargoyles, they quickly crack or suffer some sign of damage. Locals have given up trying to repair the fountain and nearly all believe it is haunted in some way.
Welcome to the Town's Memorial.
"Oh...?" Milo says vaguely. "I, I didn't notice, I'm afraid. I don't... I don't know... perhaps there's just the general...."
He trails off, distant a moment, then shakes himself. "A small town. Someone goes away to bigger and, and better things-- some people, some people consider that-- uppity."
Milo walks a few paces in silence. "If there's some other reason, I don't know it."
He throws glances at people as they pass, noting Mellum, and then lengthens his stride somewhat when he sees the red spots. Crouching down to inspect, Milo's face draws into a frown.
"This isn't paint," he pronounces gravely, his stammer nowhere in evidence for at least a few seconds. "Absolutely, blood. That doesn't, however, mean it's human. We should ask Mellum what more he knows about this, if anything."
Standing back up, Milo looks to see if there are any sort of tracks or other signs on the ground.....
Marinus nibbles on some burnt bread as he walks. Taking in the statue, he intones somewhat haltingly, but with growing confidence. "The guards who died. The warden and his wife."
He sniffs at the red stains. "You're right, Milo. Yes, let's ask Mellum later!" He says the last with an eagerness that seems out of place in this somber place.
He gestures beyond. "That's the Murmuring Fountain. It, well, murmurs. Listen for a while. You're hear your gran, or maybe your greatest enemy. Your first love who broke your heart."
He approaches one of the gargoyles and runs a finger along initials carved into its left leg. A.F. His hands dart about, speaking their silent truths.
You were here. You lost your beloved. A.F.
"The sheriff seemed none to pleased at us, but he did give us some direction. We will have to check out this Courtyard in Harrowstone.
As the party arrives at the Memorial Statue, Ajir takes in the area. "Scenic. Would be prettier if they kept it managed."
He listens to the doctor and the child, nodding along. "I wonder what the V represents. Is it a townsperson? Some sort of call to violence? A warning against vampires? Maybe someone in town knows more about this V, it seems silly to go through the effort to mar property without a purpose.
He ponders a moment, "Maybe it's an arrow?" he says out loud as he lays on the ground and looks to see where the point of the v heads.
Perceptions begin to pour forth, as the gathered search both Fountain and Memorial grounds. Milovic trains his educated eye on the grounds, finding several footprints of varying sizes.
Two of the sets suggest a lighter set of boots, the third is markedly heavier.
The overgrown grass and countryside dirt keeps the tracks Firm, but you can follow them away from the Town's Memorial towards the heart of Ravengro, depending on which sets interest you. One set is an individual pair of boot prints, light in weight. The other set is a couple strolling together.
The 'V' is draped across Lyvar's backside Though it does point south-ish, it veers south-westish, not directly at Harrowstone, and not in anything's direction, particularly. The countryside is more forested, further south.
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Emm takes a soft, meandering stroll around the statue, investigating it thoroughly. ”I think you are overthinking it, Ajir. The monument depicts a Warden Hawkran and the ‘V’ is written upon him. The monument also names two Hawkrans: Lyvar and Vesorianna. Marinus has helpfully pointed out that they are husband and wife. The ‘V’ in almost all certainty refers to Vesorianna. This of course leaves the question of why, but that is to be expected, as it is the most important question at the heart of all supernatural investigation. My arcano-forensics professor, Dr. Lucien, said that the ‘why’ of any case in this magic-infested world is far more important than the ‘who.’ I can still hear the exact timbre of his voice saying ‘whydunit.’ Regardless, the point is that we should focus on understanding the ‘why’ as our first priority. It is the key to unlocking any supernatural mystery.”
Ajir notices Milo looking at the ground and peers at his target. He offers a response to Emm while doing so.
"Why does this mark's cause have to be supernatural? More likely an angry villager is the culprit than a supernatural mystery."
Emm waves her hand in a circle to indicate the whole town. ”Read the room, dear. This is Ustalav, the ‘Land of Gothic Horror’ in all the almanacs. I have a feeling we will not be finding anything so mundane here. I also suspect that Milo will confirm that villagers here are not wont to write mysterious letters in blood on statues unbidden and unconnected to some sort of supernatural power(s).”
The scent of the blood immediately catches Sebastien's attention.
Noticing Milo's interest in the ground around the statue Sebastien spots the tracks and begins carefully following their trail around the grounds with his eyes.
"There are three sets of tracks but only two trails to follow. One set of lighter prints and a couple walking together."
Marinus' attention lingers on the memorial. He probes psychically for signs of psychic significance on the V, as well as the statue itself.
"I don't know about that," Milo demurs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Even in Ustalav, people still sometimes play stupid pranks. Perhaps this is supernatural. Perhaps it's Mellum and friends with pig's blood. Marinus... can you tell anything with your.. your.. g-gifts?"
He nods once at Sebastien's mention of tracks. "You have a guh-good eye, Sebastien."
The bloody V does, in fact, radiate with psychic imprint. It's relatively fresh, too. Hasn't had time to fade... Not even a trace on the statue itself.
Sebastien is the only one who will be able to follow whichever tracks you decide to study.
"There is some import to the V. Trauma, perhaps. Murder...?" Marinus looks to Sebastien. "Let's see where the tracks go."
Sebastien flashes Milo a smile. "Thanks, Milo! I try to remember the tips the senior Inquisitors have given me. I'm glad to see it's paying off."
Turning to Mari, he continues. "Sure Mari. Who do we want to follow? The single set of tracks or the couple? My first instinct would be to follow the single set of tracks as the paired set could just be a couple out for a walk, but then the first set could belong to the young man we met at the jail."
"I think the couple. What say you all?"
"If you believe the single set of tracks to belong to the young man, we should follow the unknown set." Ajir concurs with Marinus.
"I'm not saying I believe that. I'm just saying it's a possibility." Sebastien says turning to Ajir.
"It's just as possible he was here with someone else and the pair of tracks will lead us to him. There's really no way for me to tell which set of prints we should follow. I was just thinking out loud really."