Petyr's work over the few hours spent in the churches' record rooms procures a wealth of information.
The five most notorious prisoners in Harrowstone at the time of the great fire were Father Charlatan, the Lopper, the Mosswater Marauder, the Piper of Illlmarsh, and the Splatter Man. Part of the records here actually seem to be tampered with, as beyond the original listing of the five names, only a handful of the entries are filled out completely.
Father Charlatan:Of the five notorious prisoners, only Father Charlatan was not technically a murderer, yet his crimes were so blasphemous that several churches demanded he be punished to the full extent of Ustalavic law. Although he claimed to be an ordained priest of any number of faiths, Father Corvin was in fact a traveling con artist who used faith as a mask and a means to bilk the faithful out of money in payment for false miracles or cures. He became known as Father Charlatan after his scheme was exposed and his Sczarni accomplices murdered a half-dozen city guards in an attempt to make good the group’s escape.
The Piper of Illmarsh:Before he snatched his victims, the Piper taunted his targets with a mournful dirge on his flute. He preferred to paralyze lone victims by dosing their meals with lich dust and then allowed his pet stirges to drink the victims dry of blood.
The Lopper:When the Lopper stalked prey, he would hide in the most unlikely of places, sometimes for days upon end with only a few supplies to keep him going while he waited for the exact right moment to strike. Once his target was alone, the Lopper would emerge to savagely behead his victim with a handaxe.
Beyond any information on the five prisoners, the rest of the logs on other inhabitants is mostly uninteresting lists of various other prisoners in Harrowstone for low-level crimes.
A list of the 23 guards employed at the prison at the time is also present, although most names are similarly devoid of any interesting particulars. The two notable exceptions to this being Warden Hawkran and his wife. No one knows why his wife was there that night, but multiple witnesses mentioned seeing her heading up to the prison the night of the fire. No one saw her return from the disaster.
As his reading proves productive, Petyr gathers the other two around for a quick summary of his major findings and theories. "I would not consider myself a crime historian, so I'm not surprised that I don't recognize these names, but apparently some of the prisoners in Harrowstone were quite notorious. And here's something--we may be dealing with a nascent copycat killer. Those stirges reacted to music. I doubt it was truly coincidence, especially since everyone seemed surprised to see stirges in town."
Petyr finishes jotting down a few notes, hoping that there were no other crimes that some odd crime fan was trying to recreate in this town. "Let's see if our escort is ready. We can eat lunch on the way."
"Some pipers can enchant people with their music too..." Andrei adds. "Maybe there's a chance that this 'Piper of Illmarsh' had somehow ensorcelled the warden's wife and got her to set the fire so he could escape?"
Park frowns at Andrei's words. "Music can charm, but it would take powerful enchantment to force someone to do something completely opposite of normal. And starting a fire to kill the guards, including her husband? I kind of doubt that. But if I heard any piping I'll start my own music to counter it. That was one of the earliest magical tunes that I learned."
"A copycat of one of the most notorious killers from the history of the prison? Seems a bit odd though. The information we just got wasn't all that easy to learn. If the copycat knew of controlling the stirges with music why did he just start now? And I'd think that if the Piper had escaped he would have started his killing again right away. I think there's more to it."
"Let's go."
The escort is ready, one of the other acolytes waiting outside when you leave the churches’ records behind.
”You must be the guests Father Grimburrow mentioned. Are you ready, then? If we leave now we can get there and back to town before dinner.” he says, holding a walking stick and gesturing vaguely towards the outskirts of the city.
”Not a particularly dangerous journey during the day, but I don’t want to be caught out and about later in the night. I am sure you understand.”
Park steps up to the acolyte and grins. "You are correct. We are the guests that your Father Grimburrow mentioned. And we are ready to leave immediately. Perhaps you could better explain on the way about your concerns about being caught out and about later in the night? Surely there is nothing in the night that is not there during the day?"
Petyr is also curious about what particular dangers the acolyte expects at night. He does understand the general fear of darkness and night, and that nocturnal predators tend to instill more fear in the hearts of civilized people than diurnal predators, but specific town insights were surely valuable.
He follows along, eager to get exploring what the Professor had written about.
"Well, if you've lived in Ustalav for any time at all, you know that being outside of safety during any part of the night isn't a good idea at all." he says briskly before beginning to make his way to the crypt.
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"Not just Ustalav, of course, though Ustalav does have a certain well-deserved nocturnal predatory reputation." And Aunt Ailson certainly contributed to that in the minds of the current generations, bless her gothic heart. "But are there particular fears in Ravengro? A local monster or bit of lore?"
If the guide is in a talkative mood, Petyr offers to share a few stories that Aunt Ailson had told him but not written in her books. Her most popular books had been her vampire novels, with some lesser-acclaimed ones about ghosts and werewolves. But one of Petyr's favorite stories that had never--to his knowledge--appeared in one of her published books was an encounter with an attic whisperer. And so, if the guide is open to a spooky story told by the light of day (however obscured it might be by fog), Petyr dutifully provides a recounting with as much of Aunt Ailson's verve as he can muster.
"Well, not that Ravengro needs its own supply of fearful monsters in the dark, but we've had reports of various livestock going missing over the past few months. A handful had scenes of blood and...leftovers, so I don't want to test my luck." he shrugs noncommittally, as if this was just a behavior he had learned and not any specific action on his own.
He absolutely loves stories like that, and listens attentively to the entire story. He appropriately gasps at the shocking parts and appears enamored by the story.
"Do you think this 'attic whisperer' in her story is real? I've heard about a lot of differrent sad undead, but something about that one is extremely melancholy."
Missing livestock? Well, that was disconcerting. "If that's the case, then I don't blame you."
That might be something else worth exploring if it happens again while we're in town.
Petyr is glad that their guide appreciates the story. Maybe he'd enjoy a signed copy of one of her books? He could probably arrange that while they were staying in Ravengro. "Aunt Ailson tends to embellish and change details to make the stories more, well, story-shaped, but I've learned to trust the essentials of her storytelling. Attic whisperers are melancholy creatures, and I'm afraid they're very real."
Park listens to Petyr's stories trying to commit them to memory. After all, interesting stories and such were the bread and butter of entertainment. And all sorts of stories had potential! "I hadn't heard that one before. I'll have to write it down for future use."
"Don't worry about the bumps in the night while you're with us. We can handle anything that might be wandering the area! Petyr there's a regular master with his blade. Andrei as well, and I supplement my fighting skills with a little bit of magic. But we'll do our best to be back before the sun is close to the horizon."
"Ghosts," Andrei states rather dourly. "Feel free to worry about ghosts. We are, at least for the time being, poorly equipped any sort of incorporeal menace."
The rest of the journey to the crypt is quiet after the story from Petyr, with the acolyte only offering the occasional few words here and there as you get farther and farther away from the safety of Ravengro.
The crypt itself is a freestanding granite mausoleum, the roof of which is decorated with a pair of leering gargoyle statues. A single stone door with a rusty-looking lock sits in the mausoleum’s south facade, but even a cursory examination of the lock reveals that the lock is broken, its clasp melted by acid and then put back into place so that to casual observation the lock appears intact.
The acolyte is upset to see the broken lock, his eyes flaring with anger at the obvious disturbance.
"You haven't come here before officially getting permission, have you?"
Park glances at the broken lock drawing his blade. "Looks like someone is ahead of us. Not likely undead terrors but you probably should be behind us anyway."
He examines the lock. If it seems safe to touch he removes it from the door. "Ready for a fight guys?" Once he gets acknowledgement from Petyr and Andrei he casts Dancing Lights and opens the door.
Petyr doesn't mind the accusation flung his way. "I wouldn't be so sloppy as to leave evidence behind if I had come before," he says matter-of-factly, "Nor would I bring someone who might find said evidence." He was more than confident with his lock-picking abilities that using acid to melt a lock was distasteful to him. Whoever had broken in before them was a hack. "So, no."
Petyr reaches to his bandolier and quaffs an extract of tears to wine. His pupils dilate almost immediately, and his eyes flit around, taking in the scene as he draws his blade. "But we'll find out who did."
Andrei draws his blade as well and checks the area around the door to see if the tomb raiders have left behind and footprints that might provide valuable insights.
The door opens to a chamber that obviously hasn't seen much use in the past few decades, clearly an older crypt from the beginning of Ravengro's past.
Petyr notices a faint trail through the dust, leading to the right-hand door inside the first antechamber. Beyond the footsteps, the entire rest of the crypt is covered in a thick layer of dust. Opening that door reveals a small staircase leading down into the cold earth to a large crypt lined with empty niches, where the trail continues right up to the edge of the single large sarchophagus in the middle of the crypt.
Your guide speaks up, his voice full of wonder at the sight of the empty mausoleum. "I've never been inside such a place of honored rest. Our records showed that this was one of the first crypts constructed for the founders of Ravengro, but why are all of the niches empty? They should be filled with the remains of our founders."
Petyr makes the sign of Pharasma's spiral as he goes into the old crypt, almost an absent thought. Looking at the disturbed dust and further into the empty niches, his lips turn downward. For a moment, he ignores the guide's question, inquiring of his companion first. "Andrei: do these prints look barefoot or shoed? Can you learn anything about our culprit?"
Then, especially if the prints reveal what he fears, he turns back to the guide. "To my mind, there are two reasonable explanations to the emptiness. The first is that no one, or at least very few, were ever interred here, and that the crypt was intended from its construction to serve another purpose. That purpose would be what the Professor's notes indicated: storing implements to deal appropriately with wayward spirits. It's even possible that the footprints that we are following are the Professor's own. He did not confirm in writing that he successfully procured said implements, but it was implied by his resolve to go to Harrowstone."
Petyr kneels down and wipes a thick layer of dust from the floor with his fingers, examining it. "The second explanation is that someone stole the corpses and reanimated them." Dispersing the dust with his thumb, Petyr stands back up. "I'd prefer the former. Necromancy, as understood by the masses, is distasteful."
Andrei nods in reply to Petyr. Following him inside, he began an examining the clearer prints in the dust instead.
Park hears Petyr and tries to deflect the second comment. "There aren't enough tracks for anyone having stolen the remains. Likely this crypt just hasn't been used yet. If this was built for the founders but not used I suppose nobody else felt worthy of being interred here."
"Perhaps you should wait outside, just in case we encounter any dangers?"
The footprints are shoed, but beyond being rather small they don't provide any insight into who it may have been.
"I hope it is the second as well. I suppose the records could've been falsified or wrong, in order to draw attention away from it." the adept says, his voice still shaky but sounding better. "Yeah, yeah, I'm not going in there until I know it's safe. I'm just an acolyte, I don't plan on enacting any heroics."
The crypt lays ahead, the sarchophagus front and center.
Petyr nods, striding ahead to the sarcophagus and taking point while keeping an eye out for lingering danger.
If he doesn't see anything lurking, then he moves to open the sarcophagus.
Seeing Petyr looking around the sarcophagus and then move to open it, Park moves to the left side of the room and watches for any danger.
No traps or apparent danger arises, and Petyr opens the sarcophagus to reveal its contents.
It appears you have indeed found the cache the professor mentioned, as 29 arrows of different designs sit in a quiver amongst quite a few potions and scrolls. Beyond those, a thin darkwood case decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back—the same design that appears on the cover of the Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye among the books in the professor’s collection.
Opening the case reveals a brass enameled board with the alphabet inscribed across its surface, along with the words "yes", "no", and "maybe".
Petyr begins examining the items in the cache, cataloging them aloud for the others. "It's not merely the Pharasmin Church that placed this cache, but the Order," he announces. "I'd like to think it's good that our predecessors were prepared, and yet..."
He opens it and stares curiously at the ouija board within. "A method to speak with wayward spirits? That's certainly useful. I wonder if there's anything more to it..."
Rifling through the arrows, Petyr frowns slightly. "I suppose I'll need to acquire a bow in town, though I'm not a particularly adept archer. I'm also not good with scrolls, though I'm working on it. Given their divine origin, the scrolls are probably best suited to you, Andrei. We should each take a sun rod, two flasks of holy water, and at least one of the curative potions. Only two of us will be able to carry the restorative potion. You two should take the extra curative potions, as I will just take one to supplement my personal cache of extracts. Does anyone care to hold the extra sun rod?"
Petyr, upon further inspection of the case, finds the spirit board and planchette in one side of the case. The other side, however, has ten indents perfectly sized for small vials, four of which are filled. The four small iron and glass vials each contain tiny, churning clouds of vapor.
Contacting the other side is quite troublesome, and each use puts you at a slight risk of the spirit influencing your mind however small.
Haunt Siphons are items designed to combat haunts, and when opened inside the area of a haunt during its manifestation, it deals 3d6 positive energy damage to the haunt. If this is enough to reduce its hit points to 0, the mist inside the vial glows green.
Petyr taps on the small brass planchette and smiles. A curious little device. But it's the haunt siphons that draw more of his attention. "I've heard of these," he says to the others. "I read a paper on them a few years ago in preparation for my own research. While magic is useful, as you both know, alchemical methods to interfere with necromancy and the various esoterica surrounding the veil between life and unlife hold significant promise. These--" he holds one of the vials and shakes it slightly, "--are one of the products of that promise. With these, one need not be able to channel positive energy to deal with the effects of restless spirits! This...this was what I was hoping to work with the Professor on upon his next residency at the University. To be able to put these sorts of tools in the hands of the average person would change the game in Ustalav! Imagine not having to fear the night or rely on those with means to deign to assist you."
"Useful? Yeah, but isn't it dangerous too? Spirits are like undead and dangerous, right? I'll take a pass. Just figure out how to shut them down!"
Park glances at the sun rods as he gathers the other items that Petyr mentions. "Sun rods? They just generate light, right? Hardly needed...."
"I've got my short bow but hardly ever use it. Close range like we'll be if we're inside a crypt or the prison isn't a good place for bow and arrow."
Petyr shakes his head. "That's the idea, Park. These will shut them down! That's the genius of them."
As Park similarly denigrates the sun rods, Petyr's head shakes ever more vigorously. "Some undead fear the light. It's true that this won't generate actual sunlight, but consider that they're also silent, unlike your spell work, and will last six hours instead of a minute before needing to be recast. If our predecessors left them, they surely recognized their use, so we must turn our minds beyond the obvious."
After the items are all distributed, Petyr closes the sarcophagus once more and returns to the entrance of the crypt to inform their acolyte guide of their findings.
Park looks again at the sunrods. "Six hours? OK then." He takes his two and stows them.
"I left my hunting bow back in Lepidstadt," Andrei remarks with a hint of disappointment when they discover the arrows. "I'm no marksman, but I'm a halfway decent shot if we can find one somewhere, that we can afford."
He looks his two smaller, more graceful companions up and down and then adds, "or, maybe we'll get one of you two a nice longbow and I'll stick to fighting what I can reach. And, uh, why don't you two take whatever you need from here and then I'll just carry the rest."
Nothing else of interest lays inside the chapel. But as you begin to exit you hear a scream of alarm and pain from outside, where you left your guide.
”What in Pharasma’s name is that?!” his voice echoes from outside.
A quick run up the small stairs and outside reveals a single zombie chasing slowly after the adept as he flees quickly back towards town, lantern and party forgotten.
Petyr's blade is in hand almost immediately at the sound of the scream as his feet carry him up the stairs. Where had the shambling corpse come from? Ach, they could figure that out after they brought it down. At least they knew their way back to town, even without an escort.
Andrei follows quickly after Petyr, blade in hand. As they go, he’s careful to look around for signs of any other zombies lurking nearby.
Park follows the others drawing his chakram. It's a good weapon for zombies, and if there's one he figures there might well be more. Once he has a clear shot he throws.
Init= Petyr 9
Andrei sees two more zombies coming from the right side of the tomb as the group exits and Park throws his chakram at the first zombie, striking it and drawing its attention.
Seeing the other zombies nearby, Andrei charges the nearest one.
Andrei quickly runs to the zombie chasing the acolyte and slashes it down, destroying it.
The other two zombies shamble closer to Petyr but don't have the energy to actually strike out.
As the nearest zombie shambles up to him, Petyr flicks his blade to the side before stabbing it hard forward.
He then steps to the side to give Park an easier avenue forward, knowing that the rapier was not the ideal weapon against these dead.
Park moves up to the closest zombie and slashes at it with his machete.
Park and Petyr manage to team up together and almost take one of the zombies down, but it still holds itself together just barely. They groan put in unison before striking at the two.
The acolyte is far away now and you can barely see him on the edge of town, still running.
Had he been overconfident? Petyr's defenses prove insufficient as the undead delivers a palpable blow that feels like it nearly dislocates his shoulder. Wincing in pain, Petyr regrips his sword. He enters a more defensive stance, just in case, and thrusts his blade once more.
Surprised that they were having trouble ending a couple of simple zombies Park swings again. If there was a next time he'd have to remember to use his bard music/magic before joining the fight.
Seeing his friends in trouble, Andrei turns and charges back to them. When he arrives, he slashes at the zombie that's still standing.
The other two zombies go down relatively quickly to the combined blows of the party, and you soon find yourselves staring down at the three corpses.
The acolyte has all but disappeared out of sight back towards town, but you aren’t close enough to Ravengro to see him or the town itself.
Park glances around to see if there are any other monsters while he moves over to recover his chakram. "That looks like all of them. Anybody hurt?"
”No, I’m unwounded,” Andrei answers, “but we seem to have lost our guide.”
While he talks, he crouched down to look at the corpse and check for any checks they may have left.