Duncan trips over a ladder, tumbling onto the ground.
Khaul covers the further stariwell, wary of more kobold traps!
The paranoid hairs on the back of Nedri's neck stand as he looks this way and that!
Aurelien begins to scan the library, trying to discern some sort of order...
Emoubu pulls a nearby book from the first shelf and begins to read it.
You swear , tripping you "purposefully"!
Or maybe it's in your head!?
Though you don't hear any kobolds up the new stairwell,
Spinning around to look, the closest person to you seems to be Duncan - who just as suddenly trips over a ladder to the ground!
You feel drawn towards the top shelf!
Not magical compulsion - more of a sense of deja vu... and you get the sensation of
You see that books on Earthfall, Aiudara, Soyvrian, Castrovel and the Azlanti are organized at the topmost part of the library.
It happens once: You swear a page turned itself? Page 13!
Looking around, there is nothing there, so you go back to reading.
Then it happens again! ...
...
Duncan to Sneak Around (Stealth) @ 10
Khaul to Keep Lookout at Opposite Stairwell (Perception) @ 17
Nedri to Look Around Paranoidly (??) @ ??
Aurelien to Scan Library for Order (??) @ ??
Emoubu to Read Books on Occult Secrets (Occultism) @ 8
...
"Ahem"
A discorporated voice clears it's throat.
The ironic echo of the library carries the baritone far enough that even Khaul and Duncan can hear it - but it is in Aurelien's and Nedri's ears that it roars with thunder!
The discorporated voice speaks first to those upon the highest rungs of the library held aloft by the runic levitator.
What appears is the translucent apparition of a portly man in his middle years, with an oiled mustache, thinning hair slicked back and tied in a neat knot. He is dressed in a billowing silk shirt, polished silver breastplate, and black leather boots held together with an excessively complex series of ribbons.
Ned shrieks, "Nine Hells, it's the in-laws! Run fer it!" He stops himself before he can book it Looney-Tunes style and squints. "Oh, wait. You ain't Dierdre." He puffs out a relieved breath. "The deathly pallor really had me fooled fer a minit. Now whatchoo want, ghost?"
"Good day spirit. What can I do for you?" Aurelien sounds polite but looks non-plussed by the voice. It's almost as if he hears the spirits regularly......
“I say” the voice calls out “I don’t suppose any of you fine people happen to have brought along a pot of tea and some decent leaves? It’s been forever and a day since I’ve caught the scent of a decent cup.”
It then addresses the voices yelling from around the corner - both parties unable to see eachother at the moment.
"Bless ye!" he calls out.
"Ye we wanting a swig o' me Ale to clear that throat o' yours?" he asks.
"Thank you. And yes, maybe a dram of that as well!"
Ahem yourself. How can we help you?
"Would it not be the height of barbarism if I were to trespass into your library, hide in your corner, then pepper you with impatient and rude comments?! My have times changed..."
He seems to stare overlong at Emoubu... as if trying to decide how he "fits" into your party...
Nedri & Aurelien @ High Up on Levitator
Emoubu @ Center of Library
Khaul & Duncan @ Around Corner
...
His attire is that which was the height of Chelaxian fashion almost seven hundred years ago: the billowing silk shirt, polished silver breastplate, and black leather boots held together with an excessively complex series of ribbons.
**curtsies**
**floats down and reaches for the drink**
**slowly sips... considers...**
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"Or maybe the little mites were so scared of Mr Diggen's here that they be thinkin he were a devil." points out Khaul.
"Good name by the way. I have some Diggen cousins. Likely no relation. Obviously." he adds, no really sure of the best way to deal with a ghost.
He does eye up what actually happens to his ale, whether it vanishes into thin air, or splashes onto the ground. Or whether perhaps it is just the scent of ale that is being consumed.
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Perhaps, perhaps, but it seems also a bit rude to hide away, pretending you moved out, then pop up with accusations. Maybe we can start again. My name is... Duncan Veritan.
Duncan bows low, sweeping his hats off.
member of the Pathfinder Society and hunter of new horizons. We were beset by some vicious kobolds and needed a location we could secure while recovering from the wounds inflicted before passing on to find the "demon" they spoke of.
**...the liquid spills onto the ground... but the psychological effect of "drinking" seems to be satiated...**
"Very... shall we say... well, it was a bit weak... not really suited to me but... it's been awhile since any such treat has crossed my pallet... so thank you. Come to think of it: It’s been a decidedly long time since anyone civilized made their way here. Last folks were those Pathfinders about a century ago... Shame how that turned out. I did warn them about the devil in the attic you know. And that was before all the kobolds showed up to worship the damned thing. Don’t suppose I can say much though, given as I’m the reason he’s here and he’s the reason I’m still stuck here.”
He seems to have decided that Emoubu is "one of you" and has since relaxed his eyes of looking at him. Floating inches above the ground now, his feet lost to the etheria "Don't be silly: Of course this is my library!"
His eyes open a little wider here at the multiple curiosities about upstairs - he plays his hand by seemingly having a mental dialogue, which ends with an almost context-less "Bit of a barbed deal that..."
His attention returning to those present "Duncan Veritan - that is much better, yes - from where do you hail?" and he turns to "Good sir - would you remind filling my tea?" he winks here "And while you do, regale me with a story concerning your origins?" then to "And you - I am sorry to say that there haven't been many visitors in years, no. But today, much is changed. For example, the pleasure of your company: With whom am I honored in the presence of?" and as he speaks three things become immediately apparent to the party:
1) His glass is empty
2) He cannot pour himself tea
3) You are the first people he has talked to in a very long time
**...with a small psychokinetic force, Thrune swirls the "tea" in his cup...**
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Khaul recognizes the ghosts desire for a fair and equitable exchange of information.
"Well, truth me told, me story is a long one. But we have ale, and time. If we'd known there was such a kind soul up here, we could have had our rest in your domain, rather than down yonder stair, where the floor be damp with kobold blood and the dust somewhat gets in yer nose." starts the dwarf, showing that the long lived short folk can ease into a story when require.
"Me name of Khaul Irontoe, of the clan Irontoe. Though not of the clan Irontoe that many know of. Yer see me grand nanny lived in a small village that one day found itself... well... elsewhere"
He pauses. "Yer see there was this sorceress who went round and collected places of interest. And me ancestral home was being one of them."
He offers a grin.
"Which meant that me growing up was a tad unusual. We were found a new home in a forest, so many of me skills are not those you would find in a normal dwarf."
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"Marshall Emoubu is member of Hookclaw Digger tribe. We once tunnel beneath Absalom, world's largest city. One day we dig into witch's sanctum and we retrieve great magical artifact from rival mage at very great risk to tribe!"
Emoubu taps his chest as he continues to talk. "This teach Emoubu the great joy of retrieving ancient things. Emoubu joined the Pathfinder Society to continue doing that for good people."
"Earned the title of Marshall after many adventurers, but those stories take long time to tell."
Khaul recognizes the ghosts desire for a fair and equitable exchange of information.
"Well, truth me told, me story is a long one. But we have ale, and time. If we'd known there was such a kind soul up here, we could have had our rest in your domain, rather than down yonder stair, where the floor be damp with kobold blood and the dust somewhat gets in yer nose." starts the dwarf, showing that the long lived short folk can ease into a story when require.
"Me name of Khaul Irontoe, of the clan Irontoe. Though not of the clan Irontoe that many know of. Yer see me grand nanny lived in a small village that one day found itself... well... elsewhere"
He pauses. "Yer see there was this sorceress who went round and collected places of interest. And me ancestral home was being one of them."
He offers a grin.
"Which meant that me growing up was a tad unusual. We were found a new home in a forest, so many of me skills are not those you would find in a normal dwarf."
"Oh my how exotic! Serving in my retinue there used to be a couple of servants whose job was to scout the lands surrounding this very keep! Too bad for them that they were the first to fall when the dissidents of the area came back thinking they could reclaim..." a long-winded story here about battles during his time occupying this territory when he was properly alive...
"Marshall Emoubu is member of Hookclaw Digger tribe. We once tunnel beneath Absalom, world's largest city. One day we dig into witch's sanctum and we retrieve great magical artifact from rival mage at very great risk to tribe!"
Emoubu taps his chest as he continues to talk. "This teach Emoubu the great joy of retrieving ancient things. Emoubu joined the Pathfinder Society to continue doing that for good people."
"Earned the title of Marshall after many adventurers, but those stories take long time to tell."
"I first earned my title of Lord when I accepted this posting - nobody else dared stray this far outside of the Empire at the time, and I wanted to seize the opportunity to expand my own wealth, no naturally, I began talking to my cousin..." another long-winded story about the "adventure" of navigating Thrune family politics so as to gain sufficient recommendations to oversee the expansion into the territory that this keep used enforce and oversee...
My family hailed from southern Cheliax. They made a few mistakes in political backings and we found ourselves needing to... relocate. After a bit of this and that I left home. I fell in with Captain Benarry and the Pathfinder Society and have been a bit of a nomad ever since.
"Oh don't you just love Cheliax? Such a mighty nation - I'm sure to this day it's territories expand into every major continent. Tell me, what news do you have of my beloved country?"
He turns toward Aurelien and Nedri now, but not before taking a "sip" or "tea" - increasing the diameter of fluid spilled below him, and never-the-less softly and politely grunting with the pleasure of a satisfied pallet.
His cup now And hovering in the air "in" his "hand" as he continues to swirl it this direction and that...
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"My own story has barely started. I am not yet forty and not very experienced. I was born in Western Rahadoum and began hearing my ancestors speak to me at a young age. I find history fascinating. I have spent most of my years studying the past to help us not make the same mistakes again. I hope to uncover more of use through the rest of my life. Cheliax is doing the same as all empires before it. It is waning, but remains somewhat influential as it does. Andoran, where we are, and Kintargo remain free and strong. I hear the Mwangi colonies are no longer ruled from Cheliax. You may not like this news but I would not lie to make you happier." He looks at Diggen to gauge his reaction. "We are here seeking Pathfinder history and I think you can help us. Maybe we can do something about the devil upstairs, too.
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Ned grumbles under his breath before plopping down with a sigh. All these windbags with the talking. He just wants to get this job done.
"Ya wanna story? Too bad. I en't got no story. Had me a wife, six young'uns. They's all gone, now. Edna died o' consumption 'bout fifteen years past. My kids died one after another. War, accidents, disease. Now it's jes' me. That's it. We done?"
He stares at the floor, eyes distant but hard.
Ned grumbles under his breath before plopping down with a sigh. All these windbags with the talking. He just wants to get this job done.
"Ya wanna story? Too bad. I en't got no story. Had me a wife, six young'uns. They's all gone, now. Edna died o' consumption 'bout fifteen years past. My kids died one after another. War, accidents, disease. Now it's jes' me. That's it. We done?"
He stares at the floor, eyes distant but hard.
With the inherited ease of his caste, the Ghostly Thrune edges away from Nedri with a pompous revulsion, loudly ignoring his existence with upturned nose and downturned contempt, instead facing the cleaner dressed and well-mannered Aurelien.
"My own story has barely started. I am not yet forty and not very experienced. I was born in Western Rahadoum and began hearing my ancestors speak to me at a young age. I find history fascinating. I have spent most of my years studying the past to help us not make the same mistakes again. I hope to uncover more of use through the rest of my life. Cheliax is doing the same as all empires before it. It is waning, but remains somewhat influential as it does. Andoran, where we are, and Kintargo remain free and strong. I hear the Mwangi colonies are no longer ruled from Cheliax. You may not like this news but I would not lie to make you happier." He looks at Diggen to gauge his reaction. "We are here seeking Pathfinder history and I think you can help us. Maybe we can do something about the devil upstairs, too.
"Yours barely started - mine in it's twilight!" he lights up and "drinks" the last of his "tea" cup “I’m a servant of the empire, you know; I was knighted for my efforts in quelling rebellion in these parts. Rewarded with land on the far side of the country and a responsibility to guard this region." he looks upstairs here with an eyebrow raised "Like I said: Bit of a barbed deal that." his tone shifts to one as if apologetic, almost asking for your forgiveness in understanding his "simple" mistake "How was I to feed and larder troops to protect a keep on the opposite side of the empire from my holdings? I wasn’t, and that’s the simple truth of the matter. A devil, though? Hah! No food, no morale issues, and you don’t need to worry about paying them until the job is well and truly done." his apologetic tone increases further "And how was I to know that agreeing to be bound to the beast until the empire’s control of the region was reestablished and peace was returned was going to leave me stuck here for all eternity?” he pauses here, "handing" the cup back to Khaul...
...There is a moment where he eyes the cup once more - as if deciding upon - but to the party's relief, seems to decide against it, and says instead "Listen here, my friends: I have a bit of a proposition for you. I cannot leave this keep under my own power for as long as the devil is free upstairs, and he can’t be sealed back up in that throne of his by anyone other than me. So here’s my proposal: I’ll seal myself up in one of your wayfinders or another magic item of your choice. You head on upstairs and confront that infernal bugger. Best him in combat, and when it seems he’s destroyed, he’ll be weak enough to bind. What matters is that one of you place the item containing me against his throne and speak the proper words, which I will teach you. That’ll seal the bugger back up in his throne and put him at the service of the keep’s proper owner. Once he’s sealed up, place both of your hands against the object you seal me in and speak the same phrase; I’ll be free to travel on to the afterlife I’ve earned with my service to the empire. Once I’m gone, you’ll be the keep’s proper owners, with your own bound devil to oversee the place. What do you say?”
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Khaul looks at the spirit with a sad sence of someone who is watching a slow boat-wreck.
"And what becomes of you when the throne is destroyed, as one day it will be? Or for that matter, what becomes of the devil itself?"
He pauses before adding. "And if we are to fight this creature, and it seems we must, have you any suggestions as to tactics or weaknesses it might have?"
4, 6, 7, 5, 4
Khaul looks at the spirit with a sad sence of someone who is watching a slow boat-wreck.
"And what becomes of you when the throne is destroyed, as one day it will be? Or for that matter, what becomes of the devil itself?"
He pauses before adding. "And if we are to fight this creature, and it seems we must, have you any suggestions as to tactics or weaknesses it might have?"
"When the Throne is destroyed, I finally obtain peace, you see, for I care not to remain trapped in this Keep for all eternity. And the devil? Banished! As I implied, the situation is a win-win-win. Have you not the ambition to be yourselves Landlords?!"
Aurelien holds up the wayfinder he's had since the flaming skeleton attack. "You would put your spirit in here? And not be able to get out unless we spoke the proper words? Where can the devil roam now? You will teach us how to seal it into the throne and another phrase to release you?
"Yes my lad, in there. The process is only mildly complicated, but as I have had a long time to brood over a way to release myself, I have worked out a method that I believe you can replicate! There is a little more to it than two simple phrases, but yes, that is the gist"
You believe Diggen Thrune to be mostly honest and forthright - but there does seem to be one detail that he has either distorted or omitted...
You believe Diggen Thrune to be completely honest and forthright!
You believe Diggen Thrune to be completely honest and forthright!
You believe Diggen Thrune to be completely honest and forthright!
You believe Diggen Thrune to be completely honest and forthright!