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Nothing detects as magic in the records room. But you do find an airtight bone scroll tube that rests in a puddle. Opening it up you find the deed to the playhouse and even some of the surrounding neighborhood.
"Aha! Guess this is our home now..." Drizzic jokes showing the others the find.
Haechi sidles over to Drizzic to read the deed. "I'm afraid, Drizzic, that having possession of the deed to a property does not usually make it yours. The deed normally states who the owner is. Let's see now..." Haechi scours the deed to determine the listed owner.
"See, there is the name. The person listed on the deed has likely been dead for a very long time. It would probably take a fair bit of research to determine who their living descendants are... assuming any such persons even exist."
Haechi takes on a pensive look; rubbing his chin with his hand. "I suspect that this document may be of some interest to King Zusgut, given that he seems to have laid claim to the place. If you don't mind, Drizzic, I will hold onto the scroll for the time being."
Haechi carefully reseals the deed into the airtight bone scroll tube and puts it into his backpack for later examination. Noticing that Drizzic was squelching in his soaked boots, he asks, "If I may?" and with another wave of his hand and an "aquae abiit," the water disappears.
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"Yeah...Master Rook would be pretty upset if I moved anyways and I am not a fan of the roommates we have found thus far." he shrugs and hands it over without a fuss.
As the magic works to clean his boots out, Drizzic dances around laughing.
"Whoa -aha- now that tickles -hah- but thank -ohohh- you." he says with a quick hug to his kobold friend.
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As Haechi surmised. The deed alone isn't enough to guarantee ownership to anyone, but it would go a long way to establishing a formal claim give no other actual owners are at hand.
You then investigate the remaining wing.
Most of rooms on this side are abandoned like the rest of the tomb. But at one point you find a passage way that has been sealed over with masonry . A prominent hole has been opened in the western wall of the passage here from the opposite side. Some of the bricks have crumbled and fallen, or perhaps been knocked loose, creating a small opening into a room beyond. The walls of this inner room show signs of being scratched or clawed.
You can make out someone, or something, moving. In dry voice you hear. “Hello? You do not sound like the others”
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You can make out someone, or something, moving. In dry voice you hear. “Hello? You do not sound like the others”
Haechi jumps back from the hole in surprise when he hears the voice inside the room. Turning to his companions, he says, "How unusual. One would not normally expect to find someone alive, let alone rational, in a room that appears to have been sealed for decades, perhaps centuries.'
Leaning in towards the hole, Haechi calls back, "Hello. Who might I have the pleasure of addressing, and how is it that you find yourself sealed up in this room?"
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Haetae's eyes open wide when she hears the voice. In her mind, no good could come from talking to creatures that were still compos mentis after so much time imprisoned in a small room. She was surprised that Haechi wasn't more agitated by the situation. As her master leans into the hole to converse, she says,
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The voice responds:
“I…I am…was called Marcon Tinol. Thou art living? Yes? You speak which is more than those other corpses”
“I was…’prisoned here, chained and bricked up behind that same wall. I…slept…died? I woke then and broke the chains. Searched for escape, but there was none. So slept again I did ‘til the ground shook. Since then I have drifted…and chipped. A crack, I noticed after the shaking. This hole is all I have…created.”
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"Think he is another zombie? At least this one can talk..." Drizzic whispers to Haechi.
Haechi thinks for a second and whispers back, "As we saw earlier, zombies are mindless creatures; this Marcon fellow is clearly intelligent and articulate. Given the antiquated way he talks, the apparent age of his prison, and his mention of what must be the Absalom earthquake of 20 years ago, I doubt he is still alive. We must be very careful with him."
Turning back to the hole, he says to Marcon, "We were exploring the sewers when we stumbled across this complex and found you. To answer your question; yes, we are still counted among the living. If you've been trapped here in this room for as long as it appears, then unfortunately, I don't believe the same can be said of you. Why, pray tell, would anyone feel the need to imprison you alive in this place?"
He looks through the hole into the room trying to catch a glimpse of Marcon or something in the room that would confirm Haechi's hypothesis as to the person's undeadness. "Mr Tinol, sir, perhaps you could come to the hole so that we can have a better look at you."
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The figure comes into view. He is grey and emaciated, with what seem to be claws for hands and very pronounced teeth. Given the stench that emanates from him, you are certain he is some type of ghoul.
"Yes, I am not much to look at now. It has been....Verily, I…know not. Time…has passed…In and out of sleep I have drifted for so long."
“My secret, that is…to keep…it burns in my mind, a secret to bargain with. I know much. And greatly does a family in Absalom fear my secret. Prithee, I beg you to free me. Guide me to the surface and I will share my secret. Perhaps then I will know peace…”
Given the manner of speech, he was put down here centuries ago.
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Haechi takes a step away from the hole. The sight of the undead Marcon is quite a shock, not to speak of the incredible stench he is giving off. "My goodness, Mr Tinol, it appears that you are a ghoul of some type," he says in a stunned tone.
After hearing Marcon's plea for freedom, Haechi replies, "As much as we'd like to free you from your prison and help you find peace, I'm not sure that it would be such a good idea given your current condition. What's to stop you from turning on us or running away to terrorize others if we let you out? What guarantees can you give us of your continued goodwill."
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"What if that family is mine...oh no I am not from here...but it has been so long, perhaps your secret could harm innocents that know nothing of their ancestors deeds!" Drizzic thinks out loud.
"I think we should free you...heck people don't like either of our kind that much still. What if ghouls started to join the Pathfinder Society! A whole new market for Rook's Alchemical Suppliers...deodorizers are going to fly off the shelves." he continues speaking rather quickly, seemingly nervous with the undead so close to him.
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Marcon Tinol does not seem to be the standard variety ghoul that Haechi read about in De monstrorum immortuorum, the classic treatise on the subject. They are usually described as violent and evil creatures that enjoy nothing more than feasting on the flesh of their recently slaughtered victims. Marcon did not seem all that far-gone, and clearly had not been feasting on anything if he'd been trapped in this room for centuries.
"I think we should free you...heck people don't like either of our kind that much still...
Haechi was coming to the same conclusion as Drizzic. From the look of things, Marcon would eventually free himself anyway, at which point there would be a ghoul wandering the sewers of Absalom and causing havoc. The Society would probably be called back by the goblin king to take care of it anyway, so better to deal with it now. If they could get Marcon safely back to the Grand Lodge, Eando Kline of the Vigilant Seal would know what to do with him.
Haechi examines the bricked up doorway and the hole created by Marcon to see what it would take to create an opening large enough for Marcon to emerge. Perhaps they could somehow secure the ghoul with rope to make it difficult for him to escape them or attack others once they got him out.
Haechi had read many books on knots and bindings (including Lambert's artem nodum alligare and master Nawashi's qui retinet con funem) and believed he could come up with a way restrain Marcon while allowing him to travel under his own power.
The only other realistic option left to them was to try and destroy Marcon before he got free. This would probably be very dangerous, and would likely require them to break him out of his cell first anyway. But given that Marcon had yet to show himself as either violent or a danger to them or others, Haechi did not feel comfortable just killing him out of hand.
Haechi looks at the others and says, "How does the idea of taking Marcon back to Eando Kline and the Vigilant Seal at the Grand Lodge sound to the rest of you? He seems sincere enough to me, and I think I can bind him up to limit his movements so we can do so safely."
Catching another whiff of Marcon through the hole, Haechi turns to Drizzic and says, "Any chance you can whip up a quick deodorizer for Marcon so we can sneak him back to the Grand Lodge without his stench alerting too many people to what we're doing?"
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As talk of deodorants starts, Granitt beard twitches, Is that all they can think of, making gold from this undead's misfortune.
"I don't know how we can trust undead. I've not met any I could put faith in, all I have heard is their hatred of the living." Granitt says wary of releasing him. "So what family in Absalom would be fearful of the knowledge from the dead in their history. Is it they that bricked you in?" Granitt says as he grips his shield in one hand.
"Share your secret and we can help you rectify any injustices. If your death was unjust, no wonder you seek amends and peace. I would rather your journey to Pharesma did not involve violence and you could find peace with friendship and reconciliation. So tell us what you can about your life, you race, your profession, what deeds led to your fate?" he adds.
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"On short notice, might be tough to cook up something to hide an undead but we did crawl through a sewer. Toss a cloak on him and I am sure we can sneak him to our bosses easy enough!" Drizzic says about making the deodorizer.
"Mr. Granitt, I have heard people say similar things about goblins too. All we are is fire throwing, trash eating, killing machines! Often true...often true. But we aren't all like that. But yeah, I want to hear his story too!"
Goldy puffs herself up very impressively.
...for a bunny.
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"On short notice, might be tough to cook up something to hide an undead but we did crawl through a sewer. Toss a cloak on him and I am sure we can sneak him to our bosses easy enough!" Drizzic says about making the deodorizer.
Haechi replies, "True. None of us is exactly smelling our best at the moment, but Macron seems particularly ripe. Nothing for it then; we'll just have to avoid lingering in one place for too long. Good idea about the cloak; if no one has a spare, he can use mine; I've been meaning to get a new one anyway."
Haechi tries to deterimine if Macron is being entirely honest with them as to his intentions.
After discussing the matter with his companions and getting a general sense of agreement about freeing Marcon and taking him back to the Grand Lodge with them, Haechi turns back to the hole. "Excuse me, Mr Tinol. We're going to try and get you out of there and take you to see someone who will be able to help you, but, uh..." Haechi pauses trying to figure out the most diplomatic way to put it, "... we're going to have to restrain you somewhat so that we won't cause a panic as we work our way across the city. Would you be willing to be bound in this way if we free you? I really see no other way this will work otherwise."
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The smell of the ghoul coming through the hole had been enough to cause Haetae to take to the air and fly away a distance to avoid it. She didn't know how her master could stand it. "I guess his sense of smell isn't as good as mine."
To kill time, Haetae flies over to Goldy for a chat.
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Looking over the barricade. It is slowly falling down. You think that without any assistance, the ghoul will break out on his own in a few weeks.
“Canst thou…imagine…the rage I feel? My heart beats not, yet it burns for vengeance… To speak the truth is my deepest desire…Know thee this: my jailers were not men of law but base criminals. No just sentence do I serve!”
“’Tis true that…I hunger. I control that…hunger…for now. Discipline I have learned…yes, discipline. Hunger is as nothing unto me now. Its claws have lost their grip…This I swear: no harm to the bodies of the living will I bring…So long as I see justice done. Then…peace. Forever.”
You get the sense that if Marcon were to tell his secret, his soul would be put to rest and he would pass away.
Goldy twitches her nose at Haetae.
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Granitt goes back and grabs the body of the crocodile. "Perhaps one smell can mask the other." he says as he picks up the body of the croc. Taking out his clan dagger Granitt starts to slice open it's belly to reveal the intestines and stomach. "I suppose you wouldn't hide in the carcass of this beast would you?" he asks Macron, "We could carry you in this as our trophy of success. We can tell the goblins, that once Eando Kline has seen this trophy and we have it cleansed, the Goblin can have it as his own trophy. Won't that make people see his greatness."
"Perhaps one of you could use your fast tongues to ghet past the King, when he asks. I can truthfully say it is a trophy we wish to show Eando Kline and return it to the goblin king. But others have a better silky tongue to convince the goblins. If you decide to use such a ruse. I can carry it though."
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Knocking the rest of the wall down does not take too much time with tools better than claws, and working from both sides. The Marcon is clothed in the remnants of living years centuries ago.
"My most gratious benefactors. I am in your debt, but I soon will repay you and I shall get my rest."
With the tombs cleared out you make your way back across the under ground pond as the tide starts to slowly come in. Getting out of the sewers back to the playhouse poses no problem.
King Zusgut gesticulates wildly you come back. "Yes the beast is gone! And did you find what you were looking for" He does not seem to notice the extra person in the party or pay any attention to the ghoul. With all the other interesting smells around, none of the other goblins make note of anything out of the ordinary.
You present the dead to the King and he exclaims. "Ahh! yes now we be longshanks too! We have papers like longshanks. But given that we now need to share we can play their game too. They can play ours!"
Getting back to the lodge poses no additional problem. Drandle Dreng listens to your report intently to their story and nods eagerly at all details, but the story of the undead prisoner, and Marcon himself, causes him to stare wide‑eyed. In response, he notes that he’s heard rumors of ancient places beneath the city where living prisoners were entombed, but up until now did not have any direct evidence.
After the briefing Marcon tells his story. Marcon’s information could be quite damaging to one person in particular: Goodman Hugen of House Candren, a member of the Grand Council of Absalom and First Harbormaster. You also heard of Hugen’s secret sympathies for equality and ties to Andoran and understands the story of his ancestor’s wish might undermine his relationships with others who are fighting for equality and freedom.
Eando Kline, the leader of the Vigilant Seal faction, is also pleased with how you dealt with the undead and allowing Marcon to find peace and pass on.