Bits of saturated parchment, fragments of wood, and other detritus float on the surface of the two-foot-deep water in the room. Small niches are carved up and down the walls, each space only a few inches square but nearly a foot deep. The niches to the north are mostly destroyed by the partial collapse of the surrounding wall, and a deep crack runs at an angle across it.
To the east, a statue of a hippocampus rears up and its eyes roll back as if in pain. A trident made of a corroded metal protrudes from a wound in its side. Behind the statue on the wall are carved the words “Ex Prothex.”
It isn't long until you find a small airtight tube bobbing in the water. Opening the tube you find a property deed to the playhouse and the surrounding neighborhood.
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"Oh, I read about this. The hippocampus is a mascot of Absalom. 'Ex Protheus' means 'first among equals', which seems a bit like 'everyone is great, but we are greater', to me. And I guess because something to do with horses not allowed and something about Azlant...I mean...that's what the little chapbook said," says Taigan. "We read some on the way over here from Casmaron. It gets boring on the boat."
With your investigation of this room complete (and without danger, for once) you head towards the last place of interest.
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 aren't able to fit through the hole. But as you have tools on hand, you wouldn't need more than 30 minutes to make a hole big enough for a medium sized creature to fit through. A skilled crafter could do it in half the time.
You hear heavy breathing from behind the wall. "Ah, hello! Is anyone there?" An undead creature's face moves up to the hole in the wall. "How do you do, fellow living creatures? I am called Marconi Tinol. I implore you to release me! Guide me to the surface! I have secrets that must be told!"
Niccolo quietly observes Marcon Tinol's speech. His mannerisms. They sound hundreds of years old. Combined with his actions and desires to release secrets, it sounds like he is undead and cursed, unable to pass on.
"Ah, the secrets. That is my most valuable possession. If you let me out I will speak more freely about it. It's difficult to leave from this side, but you have tools, yes? The living are always... er... packin'... tools to smash walls. Please, help me!"
"Injury? None of physical, but mental, yes! The rage, the anguish of being imprisoned here for so long the manacles rusted into ash! I slept for so long. And then earth itself shook in rage! Verily, for reals!" Marcon replies.
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"Say, if the manacles rusted to ash, why didn't you--" says Taigan.
He draws Niccolo and Josef aside. "Hey. I don't know much about undead but if this guy had five hundred years to dig his way out and didn't, I assume some sort of powerful binding magic is keeping him in there. Or slowing his progress with that hole. And probably for a good reason."
He arches an eyebrow at Josef. "Can you, um, 'heal' him right through that hole?"
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Granny sides eyes to Niccolo for a moment knowingly then turns to the undead "Now before we get too excited, I think we can all work out that there are some reasonable suspicions about what might happen if we get you out of that hole. For those suspicions to get put aside, you will need to be a bit more forthcoming with some of that information - like exactly who you are, how you came to be stuck in what seems to be a questionable temple, and what connection you might have with some strange family heirlooms we have found down here - and the potential of some foul deeds that may have taken place" Granny lets that sink in "Now us 'fellow living' people are helpful types, and I am very fond of a good story, so why not tell it to me? Then if were all comfortable my good friend Clebsch here can sort out that hole with his hammer"
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Amanita tries to stand on their equivalent of tip-toes to look inside, but is unsuccessful. Instead, they pull a sock puppet from their bag and hold it up to the opening, and despite the eyes being sown-on, Marconi can't help but imagine that the puppet is meeting his gaze.
"How did you get trapped down here? Were you a performer at the playhouse?"
"This is just like that one story by the Tengu writer Edgar Allen Crow!"
"Family heirlooms? Which family? Those blasted Candrens? Gods Wounds, I curse their name!" Marcon hisses. "They are responsible for me being here. I've lost track of time. I learned the secret to their success, and rather than face the truth they locked me in here. Had the earth not shook, I would have been lost here forever."
"I give you my word I will not attack. You can shackle me, tie my legs and arms, disguise me, whatever you wish. But I must leave and the world must hear my secret. Then I may finally know peace. And maybe I can finally rest..."
House Candren is one of the richest houses in Absalom. They have always had seats in the city's council for hundreds of years. A little over 500 years, to be exact.
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"Thank you Clebsch" Granny remarks warmly as the fighter gets to the heavy labouring "You really are a dear, these old bones would struggle with that work, glad to have your strength around. You should come to Thistletop one day, the little wee goblins would love you"
"I look forward to hearing the whole story Marcon, please don't disappoint us by going back on your word or trying to eat one of us. I'm certainly not very tasty, but I know what it is to have stories you come back from the grave to tell"
"I am a man of my word. Fo'shizzle." Marcon steps back against the opposite wall as Clebsch takes half an hour opening an entrance in the masonry.
"Ah, to move beyond these four walls again!" Marcon moves past the breach for the first time in too long. Marcon Tinol sits down for bit. He considers drinking a glass of water, but realizes he isn't thirsty.
"I was an accountant and bookkeeper for House Candren of Absalom. They dealt with a lot of shipping, although taxes were heavy and cut into their profits. Until one day, they stopped paying taxes and received astronomical growth. Ednathian Candren, the patriarch of the family, ignored my inquiries and told me not to worry about their sudden wealth. But I'm- I'm an accountant. I have to know. So I kept digging."
"The tax collectors never looked into it. My investigators ignored my offers. I... I had to find out what was going on." He seems agitated. "And I found out: The head of the family paid a powerful but poor wizard for a magical wish, freedom from taxes. Forever." He snarls.
"That's when the Candrens captured me! Threw me into the accursed tombs, and walled me up, left me to die. I knew I would get out one day and tell my secret. They couldn't bury the truth forever. And now, I am free! Finally!"
If you critically succeeded, open the spoiler below:
"Is there anyone you trust, o saviors?" Dreng relaxes. "Maybe a superior officer? Who sent you here in the first place?"
"I think it's more of a tie, honestly." Marcon fits the hat on his head and it quickly slithers down to his neck. The tatters around his waist grow and form into a business suit and slacks with large shoulder pads. A bit old fashioned, but Marcon seems to stand upright and the color returns to his cheeks. The undead glow fades from him, at least visibly.
"That's... much better." Maybe this is how he looked when he was alive...
As you finish your exploration, the water begins to splash about. It must be near high tide. The water level is slowly yet surely rising. It's time to head back. By the time you return to the playhouse the staircase is flooded up to the top step.
Already a gaggle of goblins are gabbing about, wondering if any dead animals will wash in. You can hear their groans of disappointment as you emerge.
"King Zusgut demands a full report!" Velkik runs ahead with such speed the crowd parts around her. "You must tell the king of your progress. Come!"
The King is watching goblins on stage trying to repeat the play but getting distracted when they drop a torch as they trip on their cloak and catch fire. King Zusgut sighs and turns around as you approach. "Ah! Pathfinders! Tell me... what is going on? Some city inspectors kept asking for proof of ownership before they perform repairs. Very annoying!"
"And who is this?" He points at Marcon and peers at him. "Strangers are sometimes tricksters." Marcon takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, but otherwise waits for you.
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Clebsch describes the fight with the crocodiles, assuring the king they are not magical creatures, just some swimming predators that apparently got washed into the area. We also found some clues as the the owners of this area, a property deed, and a sealed box with a jade cat token and a note. He shows the items and the deed to the king.
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Granny leaves the explaining of events to Clebsch, "But crocodiles are very tasty if you wanted the meat"
"This poor fellow got stuck in the drain, like the crocodiles I suppose. We're taking him back to the surface where he belongs."
"And if crocodiles aren't to your taste, there is a lot of moss!! Very good moss, too!"
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"Yes, there's a pump system that needs a great deal of repair. The city inspectors are in the right, for once. But the system of tunnels is pretty interesting. Quite frankly, King Zusgut, if you led tours down here--with tourists signing away liability--you might be able to raise funds to keep yourself above water quite quickly."
He crosses his arms. "Um, that was a pun in Taldane, I think."
"And yeah, that guy, we just found him. Just as alive and well as Granny, fortunately."
"This is... the deed?" King Zusgut scans it over. His eyes open wide and his grin stretches so widely even Velkik has to step back. "This is... incredible! Everyone will have to respect us now! And we can even expand! Or clean up the neighborhood! We'll be heroes!" He points at you. "Thanks to you. YOU'LL BE HEROES!"
The goblins begin cheering, but Velkik is quiet. She rubs the symbol of Sarenrae on her bracelets as she inspects Marcon Tinol. "Hmm... washed away in the sewers? What was he doing there? My my, his clothes are so clean..."
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"And yeah, that guy, we just found him. Just as alive and well as Granny, fortunately."
"Yes quite!" Granny chuckles at Taigan then turns her attention on the Sarenrite "We cleaned him up before bringing him out, it wouldn't do to present him looking like a cat dragged backwards though a hedge to meet the good King Zusgut...and the smell, oh the smell" Granny feigns choking "If you think it would make things better we can take him back down there and push him in a few puddles".
Deception
"No? Then we will be right along, I'll be back for storytime"
"Hmm..." Velkik sighs. "The good king led us away from armies of undead who invaded our home when the king refused to submit to the Tyrant. They have many ways to infiltrate and sneak in."
"But maybe my eyes are playing tricks at this young age!" Velkik laughs in Granny's direction. "You understand, don't you? This man needs a proper bath, though. He smells like a zombie."
King Zusgut clears his throat and Velkik jumps to attention. "Right! I'm so sorry for that outburst. I didn't mean to-"
"Be at peace, madam. No offense was taken!" Marcon relaxes a bit. "The uh... sewer water was quite smelly, I assure you." He nods at Granny, thankful for the idea. "But I should be going before my stink smells the entire theater."
The goblins hold an impromptu song and dance as you lead Marcon out of the playhouse. The public doesn't seem to react to him, although some snicker about his old fashioned clothes.
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Back in the Grand Lodge, you are escorted to a private briefing room. Dandle Dreng is already seated at a table. "Tell me, how did your mission go? Were you able to help King Zusgut?"
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"And we have some revelations about House Candrell. Apparently they resorted to some magical means to evade taxes...and sentenced their accountant to an extremely boring undeath. Well, maybe to death, but he managed to cling to life. Um. Undeath. Anyhow, maybe he can be cured, and in any case he can testify."
"Ironically, immurement is often the crime for egregious murders and the like, in Tian-La..." he ends as an aside, and shrugs. "Personally, I'd rather just banish people..."
"So you are... Marcon." Marcon nods slowly as Dandle Dreng stands and knocks on the wall. Knock, short pause, knock, long pause, double knock. "Marcon, we must restrain you for a bit longer, but we will prepare an audience for you to tell your story to the people of Absalom."
Marcon stands up a bit straight and mumbles. "It will be complete? Then, I can finally rest..."
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Within the week, the Crookedtoes speed up their rate of repair on the theater, and manage to get an approval from city officials. King Zusgut even hires some of the local residents to help with repairs and opens a tour of the old sewer aqueduct.
The Absolom Lovers is a popular magazine among minor nobles and merchants. They publish an exclusive interview with Marcon Tinol as he relays his story of accounting and a magic wish that ruined his life. Thanks to Councilmember Olansa Terimor's recent Pressure of the Press initiative, this issue of the Absolom Lovers is the best selling issue they've ever had. Goodman Hugen of House Candren is embroiled in controversy as people question his ancestors and their source of wealth.
The conclusion matters not for Tinol. Within days he feels his hunger and fatigue rise, and he knows it is time. His final words are a simple "Thank you." The priests of Abbadar bless his soul for a safe passage to the Boneyard, but Dreng stops the ceremony. "My friend, I may have an alternative. A way to satisfy your hunger without harm to the living. The Maze of the Open Road has led a group of explorers to an island most extraordinary."
"Tell me more..."