At Dary's words Slygol breaks his gaze from the candle and shifts his attention toward the assembled group;
"Dangerous? That indeed be me..."
While his lean features stretch to an awkward smile, his eyes do not. They remain flat and lifeless.
"I was hoping to speak to your employer..."
At the word “dangerous” from Darcy, Ārwulf’s hand moves unconsciously to the axe at his belt. His head twists to allow for a better look at this heretofore unnoticed individual. He whispers to Woyzeck.
”Woy. Are we…employed?”
Dunno mate, he says, with no effort to lower his voice. I thought we’s jus’ good friends.
Ārwulf’s eyes boggle briefly, before giving Woyzeck an anxious sideways glance. The big lummox seems unperturbed however, so Ārwulf perseveres.
”Yeah…no, I mean yes, we are friends. I mean…are we being…paid by anyone? We’re not. So who is our employer? What’s dark’n’lanky gabbing about”
Woyzeck shrugs.
"Employer?" Lewill exclaims, "It seems to me as if you have mistaken us for gainfully employed merchant caravan guards. We are in need of coin, as are you?"
Darcy puts her hands on her hips and stands in front of the stranger. "Well if you're looking for ways to increase your earnings you are in the same pot as we are. I'm running an errand to this here priest, and this riff-raff are helping me out. We're adventurers which translates to either dirt poor or rolling on dough depending upon our fortune".
She then spits in her hand and holds it out to him.
"Name's Darcy as I just told the old frail priest. What are you good at"?
Ārwulf remains stony faced as the interview with the priest takes a serious detour. Making eye contact with the old man he offers a slight nod.
”Just one of the “riff-raff” Father Almery. Name’s Ārwulf. Seems Darcy is recruiting more…riff-raff. We’ll get to you in a moment.” he says by way of explanation.
Slygol takes in the varied responses from the group with the same rictus smile, before casting his gaze toward the brash halfling;
"Interesting. It would seem you indeed are not employed... In my experience hired guards aren't this... conversational. And I would expect a few furtive glances had you something to hide..."
He extends his hand to Darcy;
"My name is Slygol... Sly will do. The opportunity to earning coin is always welcome... As for what I am good at?"
The lean, lanky man taps the pommel of a belted short sword as he mulls the question;
"The Lady of Shadows has bestowed upon me many gifts. All of which are at the disposal of my new friends."
Again he smiles, although his eyes do not.
Calhoun frowns behind his mask and he keeps watching the human, Slygol.
"Your holy, I am Calhoun, an elf from the forests in the Yolbiac Vale, at your service."
”Just one of the “riff-raff” Father Almery. Name’s Ārwulf. Seems Darcy is recruiting more…riff-raff. We’ll get to you in a moment.” he says by way of explanation.
Father Almery returns the nod, turning first to Calhoun to greet him, and then to the gathered group with a smile - "Well, it seems the matter is settled?" - his eyes turn to Darcy as he continues - "It is nice to see you Darcy, and how is my good old friend Winstrow doing these days?"
"Please follow me around back - we are not rich, but we'll get some bread and eggs to sate your hunger"
Behind the church there is a long table where you all can find a place to sit, and shortly after two children - the boy you had seen earlier in the day, and a smaller girl with a pale complexion, black hair and blue eyes - come around with a basket of bread, a bowl of boiled eggs, two jugs of water and some cups - "We are not wealthy, far from it" - the father ruffles the children's hair - "But you are welcome to share in what we have. Please sit" - he bids you.
Arwulf nods to the children by way of thanks and sits himself down. Knowing that times are tough all around he tries to eat as little as possible, and drinks only a little water.
"We thank you for your kindness Father," Lewill nods in appreciation, "We look forward to repaying your generosity in kind.". Like Arwulf, he eats sparingly here but does partake of more water than usual.
Even though she just finished a big breakfast, Darcy is always ready to consume more food, so takes advantage of the opportunity at every chance.
Darcy makes sure to sit next to Father Almery at the table, and keeps looking at him trying to place why he looks familiar. Finally when the food is served she gives up and begins to speak with the man, taking any opportunity to stow away some of the food in her many pockets and pouches.
"Winstrow is doing Okay I guess for an old human. He seems to be about as hale as you are... but I'm not really good at figuring out how someone is doing. He did send his regards however".
She then motions to one of the children to bring her more bread.
"He said something about you finding some old papers or something that you wanted us to help you figure out. Any idea what he meant"?
"You are too kind" - father Almery smiled at Lewill, then turned to Darcy - "Yes that is true, we are about the same age, and our friendship goes back many years" - he replied, then looked pensive around him, at the modestly well kept grounds around it.
"Did you know that not so long ago, oh I don't know... some odd twenty or thirty years ago, it would not be a surprise to find the chapel filled with people, song and laughter, even on weekdays?" - the man paused - "Things have not been easy for the past few years though... But I trust The Lady will help turn it all around if we put our faith in her" - his eyes glazed over either with tears or resolve, you are not sure.
"And now apparently our most recent woe - a fox is plaguing the villagers... Though I have to tell you there is something odd there - too many chickens have gone missing, more than a fox would be capable of taking don't you think?" - he shrugged - "Well, others more capable than me in these matters should know better anyway"
"But yes, there is something I need to show you all" - he stood up after you had finished the food and drink - "Let's head down to the storage"
Through a side door, you gained access to the basement/cellar which sits below the chapel - the place is packed with rugs, furniture, dust and items collected by Almery from those found by Grimmsgate farmers when tilling their fields - rusted weapons, tools used to carve stone, mining implements, and even ancient pieces of armour.
The old priest lit up a lantern, and with your help most of the 'junk' was moved aside to reveal an old, blackened slab with something inscribed in it - some sort of bas-relief perhaps, parts of it worn out by time and others caked with some sort of encrusted grime - "This" - he shed the light over the stone as you all gathered around to observe it - "This is what I have found. But I have not been able to decipher it - I am old, but no scholar. And languages were never my forte" - he explained apologetically.
Lewill gazes at the stone slab with a look of fascination, "Actually Father, deciphering ancient languages is a specialty of mine. And this looks very ancient..." he peers down at the tablet gazing at the bas relief closely. Taking out a grime-encrusted cloth he rubs gently at the grime hoping to remove it without damaging the bas-relief underneath.
Slygol flashes his tightlipped smile toward the priest at Lewill's thanks;
"What he said Father..."
He retrieves a boiled egg from the spread and slowly begins to peel it. At Darcy's words he looks up with narrowing eyes;
"Twice you've mentioned acting on behalf of this Winstrow, sure you lot aren't gainfully employed in some capacity?"
When the priest laments the villages circumstances Slygol chuckles between bites, then leans in to the nearest member of the group:
"Starving village. Missing chickens... Now I'm no bleedin' Shire-Reeve, but perhaps he might want to start by checking the cooking pots of his hungry faithful eh..."
The merc just sits and quietly ploughs through his foot. Chit chat is beyond him.
Cleaning the grime with the rag proves somewhat inefficient, which makes the deciphering task very hard for Lewill.
He is only able to make out a very small portion of what is written, but is able to evaluate the extension of the text.
************* undying iniquity *********************
****************************** faith ********* destiny
*********************************** no longer
******************* world **************
***************** forget ************
********************* awaken!
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”Mebbe pour some strong alcohol on it…and set fire to it - that should clean the rest off…without damaging it…”. Ārwulf provides, with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it manic glint in his eye.
Lewill pays Arwulf no mind here, concentrating on what the hidden message lay beneath the grime. "Father, where did you find this? How long ago was this? Did you find any other items of interest with this?"
"Let's take it out in the sun and see if more is revealed in better light. Let me take a look at it as well. I'm pretty good with reading things myself".
"I would also be interested in where and why you found it".
For the first time since you've met Darcy she almost seems... well... competent.
"Let's take it out in the sun and see if more is revealed in better light. Let me take a look at it as well. I'm pretty good with reading things myself".
Lewill pays Arwulf no mind here, concentrating on what the hidden message lay beneath the grime. "Father, where did you find this? How long ago was this? Did you find any other items of interest with this?"
"Recently..." - Father Almery thinks about it for a second - "The children were helping me with some of this mess, and we noticed it. If I remember correctly"
"There was some dead mold on it Father" - comes a voice from the entrance to the cellar. The girl you saw earlier is peeking in.
"Uliana is right. There was some sort of dead, or burnt mold over it" - the old man replies, then turns a stern gaze on the girl - "Go on out of here now - you have your chores to attend to, don't you?"
"Yes Father!" - she replies, and runs off.
"So I guess it might have been there all along" - Almery adds, turning to Darcy this time - "And we just didn't notice it before?"
Darcy rubs her chin in thought for a moment.
"Another question. Did the towns real misfortunes begin before you uncovered this stone"?
Slygol picks up a tarnished saex from the trove, muttering a response to Darcy question without thought;
"This sh*te tips misfortunes began when someone founded it..."
As the Father orders the child away, the assassin directs the rusted dagger point toward the stone;
"Not the kind of thing you forget about is it Father? Perhaps one of your bleating flock hid it here without you knowing..?"
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Ārwulf gazes at the slab again, muttering.
”I still say burn it off…the…grime’n’mold. Fire purifies…”
He looks to Woyzeck.
”Woy. Help me lift it open. It is clearly a portal to one of the Hells, and needs…dealing with. With your permission, Father?”
Looking over the strange tablet, Calhoun turns to speak to Lewill.
"Master Deray, would you happen to have some arcane manner to clean this surface? I know enchanters of my people had a minor cantrip that could remove this filth."
Lewill, still absorbed in the meanings of the strange markings, doesn't respond immediately but as Calhoun repeats his question he replies somewhat distractedly, "Yes, yes I suppose that would be worth the effort. I am hesitant to use magic here as it may interact with the stone in an unforeseen way, should the stone itself hold a magical dweomer, but I believe it is worth the risk!"
So I can move it now it’s all ship shape?
If he gets the nod he tries.
Darcy rubs her chin in thought for a moment.
"Another question. Did the towns real misfortunes begin before you uncovered this stone"?
"Hmmmmm no my child, I would not say so... Grimmsgate has unfortunately been on a downward path for a long time now. I only very recently came across these writings"
"Not the kind of thing you forget about is it Father? Perhaps one of your bleating flock hid it here without you knowing..?"
"I mean, I think I would have noticed that - surely this is not something easily moved, wouldn't you agree?"
Lewill's magic proves only marginally efficient, by cleaning the remaining dust, smaller debris and outermost layer of grime. Beneath it there seems to be some sort of calcified limestone, which still obscures the writing.
With a grunt and corded muscles, Ārwulf and Woyzeck pull at the slab with all their might - it is not easy to find a hold, since the thing is embedded in the floor and surrounded by other slabs - they scrape their fingers and nails with the effort. Yet the massive stone does not budge.
At the Father's words, Slygol's eyes narrow and he drops the rusty relic with a dull clatter, before deftly replacing it with one of his own keener knives.
"Not easily moved. Not easily forgotten. Tell me then old one , how is it you cannot recall exactly when it was found mmm? I vividly remember the first man I killed for coin... A merchant not far off your own years... And yet your mind is foggy o'er such a unique thing.."
He looks to the others;
"I know not what your relationship with this Prestor is... but he knows more than he says."
Ārwulf, half collapsed and huffing against the immovable and rather truculent portal to Hell cranes his head toward the priest, his eyes darting back and forth between Slygol and Father Almery.
Did he just….threaten the cloth?!?
He stands, and dusts his hands off, shaking his head.
”Sorry Woy, mebbe…it isn’t… a portal to…Hell.”
Then turns to Father Almery.
”Meister Slygol has a point Father - thing is massive and obtrusive. Surely you knew, from the start… at least of its existence?” he pleads, almost as if willing the priest to have a good excuse. For some reason, Ārwulf thinks back to his home, the mayoral seat, and an idea…dim, if hardly recollected coalesces. His grandfather, poring over musty tomes, scrolls and….
”Records! There must be some extant records of the founding of the abbey that might mention the stone! Lewill and Darcy should examine them…”
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Calhoun steps back and loosens his sword in its sheath.
In a calm, even tone he confronts Slygol.
"How dare you threaten a holy man in his own temple. Replace that weapon back into its sheath and step back, or I will be forced to thrash you for such blasphemous actions. "
Not taking his eyes off their newly acquired "friend", Calhoun speaks to the priest.
"I am sorry your holiness. This man is not known to us and does not speak for us and if he does not listen will not be leaving the cellar with us!"
Ārwulf’s eyes boggle again, and he leaps to stand between Calhoun and Slygol, facing the masked elf.
” Termáre- Calhoun, mana -o i slime er eques sanda? Termáre- tenna i tan ontáro eques” he says quickly, if a little brokenly.
He looks at the priest, then back to Calhoun.
”Then we’ll know” he says in the Common tongue.
Calhoun's hand moves slowly from the hilt of his long knife.
Byddaf yn dal ... am y tro. Nid wyf yn ymddiried ynddo.
Father Almery frowns for the first time since you've met him - "Please!" - his voice is raised slightly - "Respect the place you are in!" - he lifts a hand as the tempers seem to rise, then speaks directly at Sly - "I have dedicated my life to this temple and these people, so quiet your unfounded suspicions or take them elsewhere"
"This is a storage cellar" - he explains after things have quieted down somewhat - "It was already filled with old things when I moved here almost fifty years ago" - the man adds with a chuckle - "We do not come down here often, and we clean it even less frequently, which is to say never" - he shrugged - "We found this slab was here only a few weeks ago, and when I understood I did not know what this writ was, I remembered to call on my dear friend Winstrow for assistance"
After pausing for a few moments to recover his breath from all the excitement, he continues to Ārwulf - "Records? None that I am aware of son. This church has been standing here for a long time, many years under my care but also many years before under the care of others. I am not surprised this stone, whatever it means, has gone unnoticed with the passing of the decades"
At Calhoun's rebuke and Ārwulf’s mediation, Slygol slowly and deliberately sheaths his dagger then backs away with a smile.
"To cast light one must have shadow - such is the teachings of Mirkeer. You would do well to remember this Master Ælf."
Still wearing his rictus smile he bows his head in admonishment;
"It would seem I am suitably chastised... I most humbly apologies Pater. In my line of work honest men are like hen's teeth... though it would seem I am in the esteemed company of several here. I'll say no more on the matter..."
Lewill nods in agreement with Father Almery, "I believe you Father, no ill intent is meant here." His face grows troubled, "These words bring a sense of ill will to my spirit here...indeed this is a fell discovery, but I fear we have little else to investigate concerning this discovery. There must be other instances of this writing about - they just need to be discovered!"
”No records?!? This place is benighted…” Ārwulf mutters.
”Back to foxes, chickens and strange cows…I feel another drink is needed…” he continues, with more volume and a portion more disappointment.
As the outermost grime layer on the slab was removed and the calcified limestone below was revealed, you remembered something you learned in your past about this type of sedimentary rock - it can usually be cleared by using a strong acidic compound. Like lemon juice or... Vinegar ;)
The amounts of solvent, and the time needed will depend on the quantity of lime stone, and how long it has settled.
INT:
Calhoun gives Sly a final glance before he starts to turn away..however something about the stone slab catches his attention.
He bends down and runs his finger over the carved surface, feeling the grime and filth that disfigures the stone. Deep in thought he suddenly seems to come to some conclusion..."Vinegar?"
He stands back up and with more conviction and a nod of his head, he looks at the others.
"Vinegar...or perhaps lemon juice can be used to clean this grime off the rock's surface without damaging the writing below! Padre, do you happen to have access to a quantity of either vinegar or lemon juice?"
Much of the drama passed through Woyzeck’s ears without contacting a relevant synapse on its way through, but when hands went to hilts and when the tensions rose it seemed to fire off the relevant neurons. He looked both distressed and at the same time angry and bawled his massive armour clad fists. His body and footwork shifted and his shoulders hunched… years of time fighting in the ring provoking an automatic response… the response did not relax when weapons were sheathed.
We good Arwulf?, he rumbled.
”We are Woy. Just a little…teething trouble.”
Don’t get why teeth is a part of it. Gotta keep the lines ship shape Arwulf, elsewise we be taken aback aye?
”Ship-shape Woy, ship-shape” Ārwulf assures the big man.
”Anyone happen to notice any lemon trees or, gods-forbid, an orchard in this flea-bitten village?” Ārwulf asks the gathered party.
"Lemon trees and juice I think not" - Almery pondered - "Not many fruit trees in Grimmsgate unfortunately..." - his eyes saddened slightly at the derisive tone Ārwulf used to speak about the village.
"I think I have a jar of vinegar eggs in the pantry back at the house. But it is not much" - he shrugged - "Jaline is the one usually pickling and selling them - maybe she has a bigger quantity? She is the wife of Cark Withers - he maintains the chickenhouses"
"Vinegar? Now how did I forget about that..." Lewill mutters softly before nodding quickly here, "Let's talk with her! Hopefully she will allow us to readily borrow it!"