Round 4
Morganne falls back and quickly binds the ghostly wound to staunch the bleeding.
Arcane Reservoir (6): xxx
Channel Energy (5): xxxx
Gentle Rest (6):
Ghost Hunter (3): x
Arcanist 1st Spells (5): xxx
Clerical Spells:
~ 2nd ~
Gentle Repose:
Ghostbane Dirge:
Spear of Purity: x
~ 1st ~
Burning Disarm: x
Deathwatch: x
Shield of Faith:
Weapons Against Evil: x
Bolts (10):
Effects:
Mage Armor (w/ Reservoir Pt) – 5 hours
Deathwatch – 30 mins
Park grins at the ghostly creature. He can't take much more of this, could he? The ghost didn't seem to care that he was flanked....
Rajuna hits it twice and its form seems to flicker for a second before re-solidifying. Must be close to being banished.
It doesn't take the bait from Rajuna, instead focusing on the divine caster in the group.
It strikes again, reopening the bloody wounds.
Round 4
The thief curses silently and advances on the creature, trying to finish the wraith before it kills the badly wounded cleric. He sends a series knife-edged hand blows at the exposed back of the wraith.
Stunning Fist (3):
Ki Pool (3): xxx
Shuriken (20): xxx
AoOs (6):
Effects:
Round 5
Morganne steps away from the wraith and quickly casts a healing spell on herself before she can drop unconscious.
Arcane Reservoir (6): xxx
Channel Energy (5): xxxx
Gentle Rest (6):
Ghost Hunter (3): x
Arcanist 1st Spells (5): xxx
Clerical Spells:
~ 2nd ~
Gentle Repose: x
Ghostbane Dirge:
Spear of Purity: x
~ 1st ~
Burning Disarm: x
Deathwatch: x
Shield of Faith:
Weapons Against Evil: x
Bolts (10):
Effects:
Mage Armor (w/ Reservoir Pt) – 5 hours
Deathwatch – 30 mins
Luckily for Morganne and the group, Rajuna manages to deftly finish the spirit off. A loud scream echoes from the spirit before it dissipates in a splatter of fresh blood.
The oubliette falls silent after its gone, leaving just the grate in the floor leading to the space below and the empty cells in the walls around the pit.
Seeing the spirit dissipate Park holds his weapon ready, scanning the area just in case. "Well, that wasn't fun."
He moves over to Morganne, "I've got a cure spell or two if you still need it? Save yours for later maybe. Your magic made it so we could fight that thing."
Once we're ready Park casts Detect Magic, scanning the area. He walks the perimeter slowly checking out the cells. If nothing is found he moves to the grate, casts Dancing Lights and sends it down so he can see whatever is down there....
Morganne breathes a sigh of relief that the battle is over... and accepts the healing spells gratefully. The cleric searches the room as well.
Arcane Reservoir (6): xxx
Channel Energy (5): xxxx
Gentle Rest (6):
Ghost Hunter (3): x
Arcanist 1st Spells (5): xxx
Clerical Spells:
~ 2nd ~
Gentle Repose: x
Ghostbane Dirge:
Spear of Purity: x
~ 1st ~
Burning Disarm: x
Deathwatch: x
Shield of Faith:
Weapons Against Evil: x
Bolts (10):
Effects:
Mage Armor (w/ Reservoir Pt) – 5 hours
Deathwatch – 30 mins
Rajuna trails Park, peeking into the various cells and the oubliette. "If that was the Lopper... who's left for us to find? You said you found three ghosts upstairs, right?"
Park pauses his search and thinks a moment, "Well, according to Vesoriana, the ringleaders and probably the worst here were Father Charlatan, the Lopper, the Mosswater Marauder, the Piper of Illmarsh, and the Splatter Man. We got the Father and the Piper upstairs. That one certainly seemed like the Lopper. So there would be the two left, the Mosswater Marauder and the Splatter Man."
"How is everyone feeling? Feel up to finding another of the big haunts? Or should we back off and recover? That Lopper guy was pretty tough and we don't know how hard the others will be. Morganne? Can you do that ghost touch thing for our weapons again? They'll likely both be spirits."
The cells around the oubliette are all empty, their doors mostly unlocked and a few even standing open.
The pit inside the oubliette is a 30-foot drop, and Park can see what looks like bones and a few other objects at the bottom: a heavy crossbow, longsword, mace, and some other smaller things that are hard to make out.
Looking down in the hole Park shrugs. "I don't see anything that looks dangerous. Anybody got a rope? I wouldn't trust anything here. We can tie it off on the bars of a cell."
Raj looks down into the pit, "I think Kendra mentioned that each of these spooks has a token... like the flute. Maybe all that stuff down there is junk, but maybe it isn't. I'm thinking we should try to recover it..."
He asks, "So what do we know about the Mosswater Marauder and the Splatter Man? It might help to know how they might attack."
Morganne pipes in. "Petyr and Park looked through the church records and I believe they found records for the other three but nothing on the Marauder or the Splatter Man. Is that right, Park?"
"Petyr was a much better researcher, plus he was here a fee days before me. But.... The items that we found were each linked to one of them. The Piper was the flute. Father Charlatan was the necklace of holy symbols. The Lopper...." He pulls out the axe. "For the other two there was a hammer and a nasty book. The hammer was the property of the Marauder. He killed his wife with it and went crazy. Smashed her skull and somehow thought that if he could crush other skulls to find the right shape piece...."
"The book was the Splatter Man. I think he's somehow behind the bloody letters on the monument. He spelled out a person's name in blood, then killed them, making a gory mess of the remains. Aside from the bloody mess in the book there are arcane spells in it, so he was likely a mage of some sort."
Raj considers this piece of the puzzle. "We beat the Lopper's axe so I feel alright about our chances with the Marauder's hammer." He lets out a low whistle like a tea-kettle. "But I'd be lying if I said that crossing a spell-slinging ghost doesn't worry me... especially with how little magic Morganne has left."
"I don't mind trying to locate these boys and then running away if either of them seems like too much for us. Or should we just head home, rest up, and come back when we're all fresh?"
"Well.... If it chases us we're done. Can't run up a rope!"
Raj chuckles, "Good point." He looks for a way past the grating . "I'll take a quick look at the bottom and then we can be on our way. If you'd drop one of those lit stones down there, that'd be grand."
Park sings a quick line and sends four orbs like torches down into the hole.... "Put the little stuff in your pack and tie the larger stuff to the end of the rope. We'll pull it up once you climb back up here."
With a rope set at one of the corners of the square hole, the climb down into the pit is fairly easy.
At the bottom of the pit lay a pile of bones, but surprisingly there's an extra skull in the remains. Three weapons (a crossbow that turns out to be broken, a mace, and a longsword) sit amongst the remains, as well as a peculiar looking fist sized rock, a keyring, about 30 feet of fairly old looking rope, and a collection of coins that amounts to 120 gp. The rope's end looks to have been burnt instead of cut, but the burns must have happened many years ago.
"Huh." In the pit, Raj looks at the skull before calling up, "I think I found where the flaming skeleton left his head." He packs all of the bones, rock, other evidence - and coins - in his backpack, just in case. "OK. Comin' back up. We've got a few things to sort through." He easily climbs the rope.
Once Rajuna is up with the equipment from the oubliette the group moves over to the entrance hole. Another rope climb, pulling equipment that would make the climb harder, and the group gets back to the main floor of the prison.
The two pieces of gear that are magical are easily identified by Morganne, being a +1 mace and a stone of alarm.
The bones of the skeleton appear to have its bottom legs shattered completely, as if the person fell a great distance sometime before their death.
Back at Kendra's house while they are looking over the recovered items, Morganne examines the remains.
The magic items, particularly the stone, raises one of Raj's eyebrows. He looks over the mundane items for insights and hypothesizes. "That stone seems like a thief's alarm. Doesn't make much sense for guards to have it unless they stuck it to a grate because they were VERY worried about someone escaping. And the body... if that is damage from a fall, maybe he was climbing up or down in the oubliette using the rope. The rope gets burned - maybe by the flaming axe skeleton. He falls and dies. How he got past that corridor without fire-axe coming for him is another matter. He might have been sneakier than us or maybe there is another way in to that section. Hmmm."
Morganne is sure that the bones are older than any recent years, definitely closer to the date of the fire than today, and doesn’t show any other wounds besides the shattered legs. The more likely scenario was these bones used to be a prisoner, and was dumped into the oubliette sometime around the fire then left to die.
Vesorianna confirms that the wraith and the corpse in the hole was the Lopper; she remembers her husband the warden telling her the grisly story of how he had the Lopper dropped into the pit from the top of the oubliette after several delays in his execution from a number of bureaucratic complications.
The axe is likely safe to use, now that the Lopper's spirit has been dispelled. She says the same of the flute and holy symbol collection, although the holy symbols have lost any magical abilities they may have once held.
Rajuna seems a bit poleaxed to be speaking with a ghost... at least one that isn't actively trying to suck out his life force. Well, this is a first.
"Thank you for the information, ma'am. I'm still at a loss for how the magical mace and stone got down there but life is full of mysteries... Can you tell us anything about the Mosswater Marauder or the Splatter Man? We're trying to figure out what we might be facing with those two. We think the Splatter Man may have been a spellcaster of some sort but the church records had nothin'."
Meanwhile, back in town...
After a long day of trudging behind Horm, Zhandar sniffs the air. "Smoke," she says as she gestures forward with her chin. "We're close to a settlement. I suppose you were right about approaching this direction after all, assuming that building is the Lorrimor residence." She squints into the sun and sighs, resigned to what happens next. "You mind doing the talking?" she asks. "I don't exactly give folks a fuzzy feeling when they see me, and while I don't mind sleeping outside I'd rather not have to clean spit off of the front of my shirt."
Maybe it's because she's dreading the social interaction with a stranger, but she drags her feet even more as they approach the door. "You really think the daughter is going to still be around? If it were me, I'd have sold everything and moved as soon as the body was in the ground. Nothing for her here in this backwater but sad memories, I imagine." She studies the house with a curious tilt of her head and tries to pull her hood up to hide her horns. "I suppose it would be just my luck to have come all the way from Lepidstadt and find out that she's already gone."
Horm's and Zhandar made a curious pair. Horm was tall, even for a half orc, and he towered over the Druid. He was much the younger, though there was little youth in his deep red eyes. These watched curiously as she picked over herbs at camp. Horm himself sat impassively beside the fire. "It is the best rest I can get," he would say quietly. "Firelight thoughts, and prayer." When she woke in the night, Zhandar would often find him tossing and rolling in his sleep, one hand clutched tight around the hilt of his sword. "Nightmares are a small price to pay, for the ill I have done." Lately, Horm dreamed of Lorrimor.
Though he was a grim companion, Horm was a gracious guest. At each inn along the way, he introduced the pair and made polite conversation with the host. He had a way of smiling that made it easy to see past the scars on his face and the tusks in his mouth. It was a useful trick. No, not a trick. People see me for what I am: a traveling healer come to pay respect to the dead. Horm's hand would find it's way to his symbol of Sarenrae, then, and cling tight around the burnished silver. The truth was that he owed the Professor. Horm would never have made the journey if he didn't. Death did not end debt.
-------
"Of course I can speak for us both. You don't have to say anything." Horm looked Zhandar in the eyes, saying the words clearly so she knew they were true.
"Why would she leave?" Horm wondered out loud. "Sad memories can't hurt her." The half-orc moved forward and in front of Zhandar. Resting one hand easily on the massive horn his bow had been made from, Horm strode to the front door. Despite the dust and grime covering most of his weatherbeaten clothing, the angelic ankh of Sarenrae still gleamed silver in the fading light. Hello Kendra," he said when she answered the door. "We knew your father. We've come to pay our respects."
Zhandar bites back a sarcastic retort to Horm about his sad memories, not wishing to antagonize her priestly companion. She glances nervously up the street leading into the village as they wait for Kendra to appear, hoping not to draw attention from the other inhabitants of Ravengro.
Kendra opens the door readily, seemingly expecting more visitors, and smiles widely at the sight of you two.
"Ah, I thought there would be more coming to visit. I have two friends of his that have been helping around town recently about to eat lunch, why don't you come in and break bread with us?" she says, waving her hand towards the door behind her.
"And please, you must tell us how you met the professor and some memories you have of him." she continues, moving in to let you through.
Zhandar hesitates for a split second before hustling herself into the house, reasoning that she doesn't want to give Kendra time to change her mind. "Thank you," she says quietly as she passes, her staff making a soft clunking sound against the wooden floor with each step.
She looks over the inside furnishings with an appraising eye, appreciating that Professor Lorrimor seems to have done well for himself and his family. The smell of food draws her to explore further in, to where the group is gathering. She studies Rajuna and Park as she stands awkwardly just inside the room, looking back towards Horm with a mildly pleading expression.
There is a swarthy Varisian man at the stove occasionally stirring something that smells awfully good in a large pot. He’s a study in odd contrasts. His clothes are travel-stained dark leathers and he has a wide-bladed sword strapped to his thigh. This is counterpointed by the floral apron tied around his waist and the wooden stir-spoon he’s currently wielding. He turns his head to look at the new-comers, revealing that half of his face and neck is a mask of jagged scars. The cause - fangs or claws – is hard to tell. There is even a divot of flesh missing from his nose. He nods and waves the spoon. ”Are you hungry? Sit down, we have plenty.” He pulls two more bowls from the shelf and uses the end of his apron as an oven mitt to pull fresh-baked bread from the oven. He clucks at the golden loaf with approval.
”It’s not fancy… lamb stew with mushroom gravy, wild vegetables, and hot bread.” He ladles stew into the bowls with practiced ease and adds a thick cut of bread on top of each one.
Horm moves gracefully into the house, leaving his bow and pack by the door. Accepting the offered food, he looks long at Rajuna's face. In his tribe, such scars would have been an honor, and it would not have been rude to stare. The scratches on his own face are thin and old, long since faded to grey.
Before long, Horm is telling a story of the late professor. "I never have been much of a drinker. But on the night I met Petros, I was five mugs deep and the room was spinning," Horm sounds disappointed in his younger self. "Drinking so much was a mistake, and not the first I made that night. I was down bad at cards and had little left to gamble with. But I wanted to win my money back so badly. Things looked like they might be taking a turn for the worse." Horm's voice grows graver at the thought, and he eats some stew before going on. It is better than anything he's eaten on the road. "I didn't see him come in the room, but when the Professor sat down beside me, I knew it was time to walk away. There was something in the way he shuffled the deck that told me I wasn't going to be getting any of my coin back." Horm gives a wide, toothy grin, shaking his head at the memory. "He won back all the coin I'd lost, and then some. The old man had a sharp wit, no mistaking that. Afterwards, Petros approached me again. I had sobered up a bit and was beginning to count my remaining coppers. 'You look like you could use a few coins, lad,' he told me. 'How would you feel about helping me with an excavation?'" Horm pauses for a moment, lost in thought. "He could be like that sometimes, kind and sly at the same time, in a graceful sort of way."
Zhandar approaches Rajuna and takes the bowl carefully, watching his eyes like a wild animal. She sniffs it, and looks at him with an almost accusing glare. "That smells excellent," she says suspiciously. She watches the others choose their seats before she takes a chair. She listens to the talk and picks carefully at her meal at first, but as the reminiscing becomes more comfortable she seems to forget her wariness and eats with gusto, ripping the bread with her teeth and sucking the gravy from it with something like a smile.
"I never knew the Professor all that well. When we met he was much younger-- injured and caught in a bear trap. After I stitched him up he encouraged me to write to him, and promised me that he would reward me for my trouble. So I did, and he said in his letters that he would give me something valuable if I came to see him in Lepidstadt. I never did, but his letters were more valuable to me than anything else I had. He taught me about high magic, and about learning, and even about how to be a person..." She trails off for a moment, lost in thought. "Then I found out he died. It made me wish I had decided to visit him sooner. I wonder what he was like in person... I always thought that if I had come to see him at the university, he would have refused to teach me. Maybe I was wrong about that. Anyway, even though he promised to give me something, I feel like it's me who owes him. And that's why I'm here, to see if there's anything I can do for him."
"Anyone got any wine?" she asks uncomfortably. "My mother always said that all memories should be shared with a drink in hand."
The other "friend" is an average sized human with blond hair and blue eyes. He's fairly good looking, for a human, and currently playing a little on a small platinum flute accompanied by a small bird. It's hard to determine if he is leading the bird, or the bird is leading him in the tune....
Seeing the new people and the ready meal Park stops the music and stows the instrument. "Lamb stew with all that IS fancy in my book! Once we finish with the work here maybe we should open a restaurant! I'll provide entertainment and help with menu planning...."
He stands when introductions start. They are an interesting pair, but mainly the apparent tiefling mainly catches his attention. He hadn't let anyone know about his full background yet.... "Rajuna's cooking talents are good, but he's pretty impressive in a scrap. I'm not bad with my chopper, but mainly I'm a Bard. My little bird here is my familiar that I'm trying to teach some of my music. Trouble is that I'm still learning my new flute so Birdie sometimes takes the lead from me, and sometimes leads me."
"Anything you can do for the Professor? Well, we're working to clear his reputation in the town, but have found a much bigger story in the local prison. Have a seat and the food and drink. It's a long story. If you want to help we'd be glad to have the assistance."
"So we're certain that there are two more of the really nasty haunts active in the prison. And there may still be some members of the Whispering Way in the area. They scribed symbols on the outside of the building that pulled the Warden's spirit away. His wife's spirit is still there, holding the haunts in check, but she's not as strong as the warden was. We've got to break the evil hold over the prison before her strength gives out and the remaining evil is released on the town."
Horm looks pleased as Zhandar tucks into the meal. You were always a person Zhandar, he thinks as he listens to her tell her story. Even before you met Petros. Horm mops up the last of his soup with some bread, savoring the juices.
After listening long to Park's story, Horm is certain he knows what he will need to do to repay the Professor. "Blood answers blood. We must find the Whispering Way and put an end to their evil." There is a part of Horm that knows vengeance is not the only way. That violence will only lead to more violence, on and on in an endless cycle. And is a part of him that seethes. For now, he lets himself feel only a cold anger.
"But first, as you say, the prison. I will gladly help you." Horm surveys the group one by one, reaching a hand out so that Birdie can investigate him, should she choose. "As one of the faithful, I have seen many undead fall. What are a few more, who even now await the blessed sleep?"
Rajuna listens and observes, saying very little. Exchanging glances with Kendra he obtains her silent permission and uncorks a bottle of wine. He pours a glass for Zhandar and slides it across to her before setting down a few more glasses. "Doc preferred brandy but Miss Kendra knows her wines."
Zhandar looks a little shifty when Park brings up his familiar. "I suppose that means Fingers can come out of his hiding place. He's mine, or maybe I'm his. I look after him, anyway. He mostly keeps to himself and does what I tell him, but sometimes he likes to make mischief and play pranks. I'll warn him not to bother your bird."
On cue, an adorable little tarsier monkey climbs out from Zhandar's cloak and perches on her shoulder. It also smells the stew and screeches at Zhandar, who nods. It scoops some of the broth and a few chunks of meat into its tiny mouth and then begins to run back and forth across Zhandar's shoulders, chittering excitedly.
She frowns at the flood of information about the prison. "The Whispering Way? And haunts, restless spirits? It sounds like the Professor got himself involved in some nasty business." She neglects to say she will help until Horm offers, and then nods agreement after a moment's thought. "Anything for Professor Lorrimor. Since this is Kendra's home, it is up to us all to make sure it is not threatened by evil from beyond the grave. When do you mean to return underground? If you intend to rest and recover today and depart tomorrow morning, I can prepare some spells that are likely to be useful."
Park grins at the antics of Zhandar's familiar. "I've got a little nest in my pouch here for when she is shy or tired, or needing protection. But when she wants to fly I certainly can't keep her cooped up. I assume it's the same with any wizard's familiar...."
"The professor was researching the Whispering Way, and the people of the town thought he was trying to learn necromancy. That's why they had issue with him. They didn't know that he was working on keeping them safe from the evil. We haven't encountered any members of the Way to question. I guess they want to release the haunts so they can prey on the town. They're evil, wanting to kill and turn the living into undead."
"As for returning to the prison, yes, we planned to rest and recover and head back there in the morning. It'll be dangerous but hopefully we'll be able to finish against the last two."
Raj offers a slight correction, "You haven't encountered members of the Way that you know of. Between what happened to Doc, to the statue, and what happened at the town meeting... any number of the townsfolk may not be what they seem to be."
"My professional suggestion is we keep our circle of trust very small."
Horm considers the members of the room. One by one, he rules out the possibility that any might be members of the Way. "Hmm. If they are watching, would they move against us? You said that they murdered the Professor when he was already at Harrowstone. Perhaps they are not yet strong enough to be so brazen here in town." Horm is long finished with his stew, and eyes another bowl. He has refused the offered wine, instead drinking only clear water.
"They haven't tried to stop us at the prison yet... Their goal seemed to be grabbing the warden's spirit and maybe releasing the prison's ghosts on the town. When Doc's friends stepped in, they may have started the fracas at the town meeting as their last ditch attempt to stop us. We'll have to see."
Park glances around at the two new members of the team. He nods acceptance. "All good then. The professor judged you so I think we can trust each other."
"Tomorrow morning we head back in to finish the last two haunts and hopefully the aura of evil over the prison. But I would like to know a bit more about your skills so we know what to expect. Rajuna, besides being good in a scrap is trained in detecting and disabling traps and such. I'm OK with my blade and use some bardic magic. I've got a wand of healing with a few charges left. We've also got a wand of lesser restoration that can be used if either of you is a cleric?" He looks specifically at Horm with that question. "Horm, you mention being 'one of the faithful', so I assume that would go to you? And Zhandar? What spells would you be preparing for tomorrow? I don't prepare my spells but I'm always curious about magic. Are either of you front-line fighters, heavy-hitters to mix it up with the enemy and put them down fast? Important to know who needs to be protected and who will charge the enemy before the battle starts!"
Zhandar frowns. Fourteen days of travel with him and I never thought to ask these sorts of questions, she thinks in a sudden flash of guilt, but she closes her eyes and shakes her head. Though if I had cared I could probably have answered them just by studying him. I suppose that means Park, like Horm, is good with people. Or at least he doesn't make people want to hang him as a witch! There is something otherworldly about Park as well, but I cannot be sure what it is. Perhaps it his 'bardic magic' as he calls it.
She hesitates in sharing so much about herself, but decides that she should do her best to impress these people beside whom she will be fighting. "I mostly combine natural herbal materials into magical extracts," she admits cautiously, "using principles of alchemy. Or I draw upon the inherent power of divine nature in all living things to cast spells. However, thanks to Professor Lorrimor's influence, I have learned how to read arcane spells and can prepare them from my spellbook like many wizards do. Against primarily undead enemies, I imagine the best strategy would be a spell that I call magic stone, which enchants ordinary rocks with extraordinary force against creatures animated by negative energy. I will also ready spells called disrupt undead, shield, and true strike."
She takes a deep breath and then continues to indulge what she perceives as Park's interest in her magic. "These spells suggest that I should be slightly removed from our enemies, to better throw my enhanced projectiles at them. I am not really a 'front-line' fighter or a 'heavy hitter', though the things I throw at our opponents do 'pack a punch', as they say in Lepidstadt." Her expression widens as she thinks of something else. "Oh! Another thought occurs to me! I can summon a cloud of thick fog around us all, and transform our eyes so that they can see through it with ease, creating an imbalanced circumstance where we are concealed from our opponents but they are not concealed from us. This should be effective against most creatures that do not use magical senses or echolocation to see."
"I try to remain flexible, and when I mix my alchemical concoctions I can do so relatively quickly in response to detrimental circumstances. It usually takes me about a minute. I should add that my potions are brewed such that when they are thrown at a creature's feet, they explode into a vaporous mist that transfers their effects through skin. While it is probably better to wait until after a fight is over to worry about repairing our various injuries, I do have several bottles of my light cure remedy that I can administer in this way if we are hard-pressed. Perhaps I should also prepare a flask of lesser restoration?"
She pauses, and a brief flash of discomfort crosses her features, possibly from talking so much. She smiles awkwardly, showing pointed teeth. "I see that you, Rajuna, do not have the sort of eyes that permit you to see without light. I assume it's dark beneath the prison. Do you usually carry a torch? We may be able to address that need with magic. And Park, what spells do you typically cast? I suspect you dabble in the spontaneous arcane magic associated with entertainers or 'bards', but my knowledge of Spellcraft tells me that there is a great variety of magical songs upon which your performances might draw. Can you elaborate on your powers?"
Raj gives a lopsided smile... mostly because the scarred side of his face doesn't move much. He comes over and sits down next to Zhandar. "Look again." He faces her closely and holds up the lantern from the table at an angle to catch the light right. His eyes strongly reflect back the light in shades of green and blue, like a dog's or a wolf's eyes would.
"I see quite well with the smallest bit of light... hopefully, a good distance behind me. In my line of work, darkness is an ally."