Alistair looks over the hallway heading north. Being careful with his footing and watching for anything that would spring a trap. Making it halfway down the hallway Alistair doesn’t find any traps. He looks over the door that leads east, it appears as if it was lazily left open. Whomever went through this door last only pulled it to just as you might loosely pull your bedroom door closed. The dirt and cobwebs in the hallway and around the openings would have you believe that no one had been this way in a long time. As you approach this door, your focus on everything else around you begins to blur and the sound of your companions footsteps begin to fade.
You hear one of your companions stepping on a loose bit of stone that chipped off and you snap too. You’re looking at three different options of where to go.
Your attention is locked on this door and in the pit of your stomach you know you must open this door.
As you watch Rasmus write on the wall your stomach turns a little as he writes Braal on the wall. There have always been rumors of worshipers of Braal existing in Dulwich, but those have always been just that… Rumors.
He whispers, "Did anyone hear that?"
Alistair swallows hard as his left hand, totally out of his control, slowly moves to push the door open.
Rasmus stretches his jaw, wincing as his ears pop. He mutters a few lines of prayer under his breath, his voice steadying as he does so. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and he offers a reassuring smile to his companions.
“That’s a bit better, lads. Still can’t hear nothin’ real well, but I can at least hear meself speak. Less disorientin’. I ain’t entirely sure what’s goin’ on here, but,”
His voice carrying a note of cautious optimism, he glances over the notes Dargys had kindly translated for him, committing the details to memory.
“Yep, I agree with Dargys. Ain’t nothin’ we can do against the spectral dead except grit our teeth and pray. No weapons of my kind can harm them. The spirits exist sort of behind a curtain of sorts, somethin' to do with the planes, I never was much good with that sort of thing. I've heard they can be ‘eroded’ by wizardry, and, of course, the prayers of the devout. Their spirits don’t form correctly, or somethin’ such like that, and they find it harder to cross the curtain.”
Rasmus scans the dimly lit corridor, his eyes narrowing as he spots Alistair at the far end, slowly reaching towards a door. Something about Alistair’s movements seems off, enough to set Rasmus' hairs on end. Rasmus strides towards him, his guard up but his sword sheathed. The flickering lantern light casts long shadows, the only barrier against the encroaching darkness.
“Alistair? Is somethin’ wrong? Ye don’t seem to be movin’ right,” he calls out, his voice a mix of concern and determination.
"Gentlemen, I hate to say it but we need to see, I need to see what's behind this door. At the same time I dread what we may find particularly after the table experience back there." Alistair says as he waits for the others to notify Rasmus and move up.
Erik rides up behind Alastair and says, "Let's see what's up. I'll follow you right in."
Alistair sees Erik and Rasmus close in behind him. He reaches out to push open the door and it does so with ease.
As you reach out to open the door, it does appear as if you did open the door but you never touched it. Or did you…?
As the door opens it reveals sagging wooden shelves filled with a vast array of rusting and rotting equipment and other decomposed and unidentifiable things line this chamber’s walls.
On the shelves you see a lot of things that are destroyed, but a few things are still intact.
- There is a small wooden box, each side just smaller than the length of the tip of your thump to pinky if fully extended.
- There is a miniature ornate casket, roughly 4-inches by 2-inches in size.
- There are six empty glass beakers stand in a line.
- A finely made small wooden coffer that could easily sit in the palm of your hand.
- And a long but shallow box.
- You also see a wide-mouthed earthen sitting on the floor.
- A tall iron stand holding a small iron cage holds the skeletal remains of a bird long perished.
The remaining people in the chamber with the table and mummified man sees something odd. Behind Sethiel appears to be a growing damp patch on the wall. As Alistair, Erik and Rasmus move down the hall and open the door, this damp patch grows to the height of a human man and it is vaguely humanoid shaped.
"That patch on the wall near Sethiel, is that ...man shaped?" A confused look, "Never saw seepage just happen to take that form before."
He doesn't poke at it or anything, hoping someone is more versed in natural philosophy.
"Yeeeah, that doesn't look too natural," Klaus swallows nervously. "W-what are we getting paid again?
"I'll check the shelves for clues." Deshe trusts in the others to handle the rest of the room, and attempts to open each of the boxes on the shelf.
Rasmus entered the room with Alistair and Erik. He glances around, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and wisdom. Taking a few tentative steps into the room, his feet stir up wisps of dust that dance in the air like tiny spirits.
“By the Glintin’ Blade, this place is ancient,”
he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble that carries a hint of awe.
“Looks like it might’ve been a storage room of some sort, but it’s still too early to tell for sure.”
As Deshe moves towards the boxes on the shelves, Rasmus reaches out and gently lays a hand on his shoulder, his touch firm, yet comforting.
“Hold there, lad,”
he says quietly, his tone level.
“We should check for any shades or remnants before we start pokin’ around in these boxes. We don’t want to draw them across the veil, so maybe say a quick prayer first. Don’t disturb anythin’ more than ye have to. We should respect the dead, lad. This place is unhallowed, people suffered far too much here. It ain’t right to disturb it too much.”
Rasmus lifts his lantern, the soft glow spreading across the room and revealing more of its secrets. He takes a moment to peer into the hallway.
“Hey, lads!”
he calls out, his voice carrying a note of interest.
“We’ve found somethin’ over here, ye should come see!"
Alistair moves in to check out the room. "Not sure why this room tied my innards in knots. Seems to be rather benign." The objects are interesting but he is looking more for not-so-friendly traps or secret compartments. "I wonder if these are models of the full size thing or some sort of magic was used to shrink them. On the other hand, would it be worth it to make them as models and then enlarge them with magic?"
"Sethiel, step back."
You are unsure what this exactly is, but from what the party has experienced this is some kind of undead spirit that is collecting.
The moisture begins to collect and form even more into a humanoid form. The creature lunges out in an attempt to grab Sethiel, and is successful. There is a cold chill that moves through Sethiel’s bones. Almost like jumping into a lake in the dead of winter.
Deshe moves into the room and begins examining the boxes on the sagging wooden shelves. In the small wooden box you open it up and see dry grey dirt. You shuffle the box around and it is very fine and loose.
The miniature ornate casket opens on a tiny hinge and it reveals two long, curved fangs. They look it be humanoid.
The finely made small wooden coffer opens up to reveal a collection of tiny bones, looks to be humanoid.
The wide-mouthed earthen jar opens to reveal what looks to be darken aged honey that has crystalized over the top. It looks like something is within the jar.
Dargys moves quickly, striding past Klaus to assist Sethiel, "Klaus, find a spell that might hurt this thing if my sword fails. Sethiel, if you can grab my shield and pull yourself out of it's grip!" He is not a leader, and knows others have better ideas than he, but it's the only one he can think of.
Erik rides into the storage room and looks at the bones.
Klaus has a flashback to a prank one wizard's apprentice played on another using an Unseen Servant to douse another glue. For the briefest moment he'd swore he could see the Unseen Servant outlined in the glue. This odd person-shaped "seepage" grabbing Sethiel seemed just like that.
Dargys calling his name snapped him back to the present.
"Right, ah," Klaus racks his brain watching as the chilly looking mist man tries to give Sethiel a hug. "Well, it just gives off a cold vibe—is it cold, Sethiel?—which means fire should be good(?)...but I don't have any fire spells ready let alone that I know which wouldn't be catastrophic to let loose in this tiny room."
"Could try hitting it with a torch perhaps, or...!" Klaus suddenly gets excited and pops open his scroll box and selecting a scroll. "Come here and present said sword, dear Dargys. I have something which could help."
He holds a neatly bound scroll in one hand and begins to untie the ribbon with the other. The ribbon says Magic Weapon in simple script.
Rasmus, unaware of the noise from the other chamber, approaches the earthenware jar. He kneels down and runs his leathery hands across the porous and coarse exterior of the jar, mumbling a few words to himself,
"Looks like one of old Bedrick's jars, it does. Coarser grain than that lot though, ain't sure what clay to attribute it to."
Looking inside, he sees the darkened honey-like substance, and taps it experimentally with an iron spike from his pack.
"Crusted up, like honey, fer sure. And there's somethin' in there too. Ain't sure if it'll do the trick, but maybe warmin' it will loosen its grip."
He pours a small amount of water into his iron pot and begins striking some loose tinder with his flint and steel, hoping to generate a small, localized flame that he can warm the water with.
"Sethiel, look out! It's some kind of undead spirit! Everyone, defend yourselves!" Belfer yells in alarm.
Belfer prepares himself from behind the table, his head just above the surface. He begins to cast, taking a step back in order reach over the table with his arm as a green energy starts to coalesce into a translucent ichor.
At the sounds of battle and fighting plans- Deshe looks for a moment before grabbing Rasmus' shoulder far less gently than he himself was grabbed when he was warned. Then, once he draws Rasmus' attention, Deshe raises his axe to eye level between them, them points it at the door, and then runs there himself, only to find a traffic jam in the hall keeping him well away from the fighting.
Rasmus looks at the earthen jar and begins to start a little fire to warm water to loosen up the honey. He gets the tinder set and gets the fire started.
Deshe looks at the bones in the container and realizes that the bones are a collection of finger and toe bones.
As people are quickly getting ready to deal with this spirit creature that is currently grappling Sethiel, its hand moves and touches Sethiel’s head. Sethiel’s eyes roll into the back of his head and his head dips. As Sethiel raises his head he looks up and his eyes are black. He opens his mouth and begins to speak.
“Leave! Siduri still roams. He will consume you!”
Sethiel speaks, you hear not only his voice but another voice speaking at the same time an octive lower than Sethiel.
Darygys presents his sword hurriedly then gapes as the Spirit possesses Sethiel, then he says "Who is Siduri?"
Rasmus feels Deshe's hand on his shoulder, and turns, raising his eyebrows. Upon seeing Deshe's combat gestures, he nods and turns back to the fire. His heart races as he glances around the dimly lit storage room, the flickering light from the small fire he had started casting eerie shadows on the sagging wooden shelves. He knows something is happening with his companions, but he can't hear quite what.
He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. The earthen jar with the crystallized honey sits before him, but he decides there is no time to investigate further. His friends need him, and he must to be ready for whatever is coming.
Rasmus quickly extinguishes the small fire, not wanting to leave any potential hazards behind. He reaches to his sheathe and draws out his thin, engraved sword.
Nodding, Rasmus moves to the doorway, peering through the corridor into the room where the spirit is grappling with Sethiel. He can see his companions preparing for a potential fight, but he is puzzled by their lack of action. He assumes that they need more information before making any aggressive decisions.
He positions himself defensively, ready to assist his friends if needed. His eyes scan the room, taking in every detail, every possible threat. He knows they are walking a fine line between caution and action, and he is determined to be ready for whatever comes next.
Alistair assumes they are just messing about and calls down the hall, "What are you ninnies up to. Come on down here and help us look around."
Belfer halts his casting as the Sethiel-spirit begins to speak.
"Deshe, I think we need your help... Sethiel appears to be possessed!" Belfer yells back in response to Alistair.
Belfer watches Sethiel, intrigued by the combination.
Uncertain...
Will they answer?
Erik rides out into the hallway and loads his sling.
Sethiel doesn’t respond, standing lifeless. His eyes clear for a moment and return to the elven eyes you know filled with fear. Struggling against the grapple he speaks; “Help me…” she barely gets out when the spirit’s hand not only grips his head tighter, but enters into his skull where in a flash the eyes return to all black and Sethiel’s body stands lifeless once again.
The double voice once again appears; “This is her tomb. She is a mad mage searching for eternal life. What she has done blow the surface will be the doom of us all.”
The faceless spirit’s eyes seem to convey worry. Those who have studied history of this down have no recollection of a person by the name of Siduri. If you’ve studied history of the town, you know that Saini’s personal library is very extensive and possibly would show a mage of any power.
"You have our ally hostage, why should we trust you?" Dargys warns the THING, "You tell us to leave, then say how we're doomed. How do we STOP the Doom?"
Rasmus squints his eyes and tries to discern Sethiel's words.
He can see some of Sethiel's words, but he can't make out everything.
"her tomb...mad mage...life...surface...us all..."
Rasmus' eyes widen at the words "mad mage," and he grips his sword tighter. A low growl escapes his lips, and his hand restlessly taps on the pommel of his sword.
"Wizards are fine if they keep their magic to themselves, maybe use it fer the people when they can, but mad wizards...they don't know what's too far to go to gain knowledge, end up burnin' down the fields and boilin' the seas just to see if they can..."
He looks to the others quizzically,
"Yer talkin' to this shade? Ye better make sure it ain't gonna stab ye or infect ye first."
He raises one eyebrow in displeasure at the possessed form of Sethiel.
Alistair moved a bit further down the hall and then stood silent, taking in the situation and trying to decide what to do. The others were talking but no action had been taken yet. He waited to see if the thing would answer Dargys.
You begin to see Sethiel’s face begin to get movement back as it looks as if he is wincing. There is a glow from Sethiel’s holy symbol of Darlen, a rising sun shunning away the darkness of the night. As his symbol glows, this spirit’s hand sinks slightly deeper in as if it is losing its grip.
“She will consume you. Your horn has been snapped before, and has feasted on your marrow.” The wincing changes to a smirk as the spirits arm looks as if it tightens. This causes the glow to flicker. “The unicorn will be paid as tribute.”
With that a vibration begins to occur within the water spirit and as the words tribute are spoken the spirit violently explodes sending Sethiel 10-feet across the room.
You stand firm as a tidal wave of water attempts to push you back across the room.
You are pushed back 10-feet across the room as a tidal wave of water gushes from the spirit.
As you look back, the spirit is no longer in the room.
Rasmus sees the spirit swell with pressure, and his eyes widen with a mix of concern and determination. The cold, dusty stone hallway around them seems to close in, the air thick with an eerie chill. He steps forward swiftly, bracing Erik with a firm but gentle arm.
As the wave of water cascades from the creature, Rasmus stands his ground, shielding Erik from the brunt of the impact. The frigid water splashes against the stone walls, sending a shiver through the air, but Rasmus remains unfazed, almost as if the cold and dampness don’t affect him. When the torrent subsides to a manageable level, he wipes his stringy white hair from his eyes and lets out a low growl of frustration.
“What in the blazes was that? I’ve seen some haunts before, but none of them have ever done that!”
he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, his voice tinged with a mix of bewilderment and experience.
His soft footfalls echo in the hallway as he approaches Sethiel, and he stands above him, one hand outstretched to help him up. His other hand rests on his sword hilt, ready but not threatening. His eyes, though narrowed and watchful, hold a glimmer of reassurance. Once he’s assured that Sethiel is free of possession, his gaze softens, and he speaks with a gentle tone.
“Sethiel? Are ye alright, lad? That was yer first shade, I take it. Don’t ye fret, ye’ll get used to it before too long. Up ye get.”
He lifts Sethiel to his feet and pulls a dry cloak from his pack. He hands it to Sethiel with a kind smile.
“Here, lad, dry off. Ye’ll chafe otherwise.”
Alistair gets caught up in the wave and shoved down the hall. He does his best not to hit Erik and Rasmus as he passes. Finally, he gets control of his momentum and plants his feet on the floor once more. "That was insane. A bit exciting but insane."
Sheltered by Rasmus, Erik and Shep manage to avoid being washed away by the torrent of water.
Dargys raises his shield as if holding off the wave with it, and holds his breath...
and his ground.
“What in the blazes was that? I’ve seen some haunts before, but none of them have ever done that!”
"You're one up on me, Rasmus. Damned if I know what's going on. I do know we can't let whatever is in here 'doom' anyone topside. Some of us have family that would be in danger." He sets his jaw at that notion
Unsure of what to do while the spirit seemed almost reasonable...Klaus certainly did not like the words it was speaking.
"Wait a second! What horn? Who has a unic-"
Klaus gets a mouthful of angry spirit water and sputters noisily, only just managing to stuff the hand holding the magic scroll into his robes before the sudden spray of water struck him.
He almost retches again as he pictures the damp shape on the wall before it grabbed Sethiel. Dank dungeon water in sentient form had just entered him.
"It's in my mouth! It's in my mouth!" Klaus whines, spitting noisily. "Please don't possess me! I just started this wizarding thing, and I don't want to go down like this!"
Deshe seems like he's about to join in the conversation, but then shuts his half open mouth as realizes Rasmus probably didn't hear everything. He sets about making some notes of what he can remember people said to show Rasmus.
As the water recedes, Rasmus steps forward, his boots splashing in the puddles left behind. He surveys the scene, noting the positions of his companions and the state of the room. His gaze lingers on Sethiel, who lies sprawled across the floor, and then shifts to Klaus, who is sputtering and spitting out water.
“Steady, Klaus,”
Rasmus says, his voice a deep, calming rumble.
“I'll check ye fer an infection, of the spirit or otherwise.”
Rasmus holds open Klaus' eyelids and shines the lantern in them. Then he takes a small glinting object from his bag and quickly presses it against Klaus' palm. When Klaus does not respond, he nods, satisfied, and palms the tarnished silver symbol of Kalron.
"No, ye ain't infected as far as I can tell."
He thumps Klaus on the back and goes back to checking everyone else for injury. When Deshe shows Rasmus the words he remembered and wrote down, Rasmus puzzles the words of the spirit. When he reads Dargys' words, Rasmus' eyes grow misty.
Aric was a man of great wisdom and mystery, his flowing robes embroidered with arcane symbols that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. His presence was always accompanied by the subtle scent of exotic herbs and incense, adding an air of intrigue to the otherwise rigid court. His long, silver hair and piercing blue eyes gave him an almost otherworldly appearance.
“Thaddeus, you must consider the implications of this alliance,” Aric urged, his voice calm but insistent. “The magical energies at play are not to be taken lightly.”
Lord Thaddeus, his face a mask of stern resolve, dismissed the wizard’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “We cannot afford to be swayed by superstition, Aric. Our family’s future depends on this.”
Rasmus felt a pang of frustration. His father’s cold pragmatism often clashed with the more nuanced perspectives of those around him. It was in these moments that Rasmus felt the distance between them most acutely. His father was a man of ambition and unyielding determination, his every decision driven by the desire to secure the family’s legacy. Yet, this often left little room for empathy or understanding.
As the argument continued, Rasmus’s gaze shifted to his brothers. Alaric, the eldest, stood by their father’s side, his expression aloof but attentive. Alaric had always been the dutiful son, groomed to inherit the family title and responsibilities. Despite his often distant demeanor, there were moments when he showed a surprising depth of care and concern for his younger siblings.
Cedric, the youngest, was perched on the edge of a nearby chair, his eyes wide with fascination. Cedric had always been brash and impulsive, his interest in magic leading him to follow Aric around like a shadow. He was eager to learn, but his enthusiasm often got him into trouble.
Later that evening, Rasmus found himself in the gardens, seeking solace among the blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves. The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the scene, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. He wandered along the winding paths until he reached a secluded bench, where his mother, Lady Eveline, sat waiting.
Lady Eveline was a woman of grace and warmth, her presence a soothing balm to Rasmus’s troubled mind. She looked up as he approached, her eyes filled with understanding. The soft light of the moon highlighted her delicate features, and the scent of jasmine from the nearby flowers mingled with the cool night air.
“Rasmus, my dear,” she said softly, beckoning him to sit beside her. “Your father means well, but he often forgets that strength comes not just from power, but from the heart. You have a kind soul, and that is your true strength.”
Rasmus sat down, feeling the weight of his frustrations lift slightly. “Mother, why does Father always dismiss Aric’s concerns? There is so much more to consider than just alliances and power.”
Lady Eveline reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. “Your father has always been driven by duty and ambition. He believes that securing our family’s future requires unwavering resolve. But you, Rasmus, see the world differently. You understand that true strength comes from compassion and understanding.”
She smiled gently, her eyes reflecting the wisdom of her years. “Remember, no matter how cold the world may seem, you are never alone. You have the love and support of those who care for you.”
Rasmus nodded, feeling the warmth of her words seep into his very being. It was moments like these that gave him the strength to face the challenges of his life. The memory of his mother’s kindness and his father’s stern resolve would stay with him, guiding him through the trials ahead.
The memory fades, and Rasmus is brought back to the present. The chaos around him, the uncertainty of the situation, and the need to protect his companions all resonate with the lessons of his past. His father’s words about responsibility and strength echo in his mind, but it is his mother’s wisdom that truly guides him now."
Rasmus is snapped back to the present roughly at the end of the memory, and he sighs and scratches his rough beard.
"Ah, I don't know what in the blazes is down here, but it ain't goin' to reach the surface. We have family to protect, Dargys is right."
"I have never encountered anything like that before. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. And yes, I agree Dargys, we can't let this thing out. But how do we kill such a thing. Are any of the old wives tales correct? Will salt aid us? Do we need to find the bones and bury them? Anyone have any idea?" Alistair asks of the group after he recovers from his dousing.
Deshe attempts to recall his religious knowledge to see if he knows anything about dealing with this sort of thing.
Klaus submits himself to Rasmus’ exorcism examination without any resistance. The relief when he’s pronounced unpossessed of anything but his own folly elicits a noisy sigh of relief.
“Alright then,” Klaus announces, slapping the side of his thigh. “Ghost children, water spirits, a less than reputable medical treatment station–” a gesture to the torture table, “–Looks like we’ve done what was asked. We found out what’s down here. Plus, we know there’s something breaking horns and likes to eat unicorns. Pretty sure we don’t need to find that!”
Klaus nods at everyone and gives Rasmus a thumbs up. “Time to get on out of here and let some of the ultra wizards and the Guards know about what’s going on, so they can get all this sorted, right?”
"Oh, come now, buck up man. We survived this encounter and do you really believe the sheriff's deputies would fare any better than we? Look at us, we're the perfect combination for a situation such as this. Rasmus is older than dirt and with that he brings experience," Alistair winks at Rasmus when he says this even though the man can't hear him, "Deshe is church trained and the perfect one to deal with things that should remain undead, Dargys is as strong as a bear, and for all I know Erik here can turn into one. As for me, I have my dashing good looks, and you my good man give us arcane knowledge. Besides Deshe you are probably the most important man in the group. Think about it, it's not like your mentor is going to go scraping down in a hole like this. If we took it to the city and they took it to your master, he'd have you down here in a heartbeat and then take all the credit and treasure. Make no mistake about it, something evil and vile like this, has a treasure, we just need to find it. Fortune and glory my good man, stay and help us out so we get both and share with none." Alistair finishes with a slap to Klaus' back.
Everyone is standing dripping wet from the water that rushed through the room and halls. Looking down you are standing in an inch of water that is slowly drifting towards the southwest corner of this room. Looking, the water is going into the floor at the corner where a stone is sunk in slightly.
Rasmus is looking over the party in the room when suddenly his hears are filled with the screams of the faces of the table when there is the suction release in his sinuses, and he can hear again. The loss was not permanent.
Deshe remembers his studies of supernatural experiences with spirits. He remembers reading about haunts and spirits that linger. There are various ways of dealing with them, some are burying bones that have been left behind, others are dealing with what had caused them to linger behind. You aren’t exactly sure what the correct answer is, but so far all things are pointing to this Siduri
As Klaus says Looks like we’ve done what was asked. We found out what’s down here, the bearer of the letter might look to see if he is right.
To whom it may concern:
A few days ago I hired stonemason Matias Hirvi to do some repairs in my cellar. During the work, Hirvi removed some older stones to repair the wall. Doing so, he discovered a small sealed-up chamber.
I am seeking skilled workers to remove the seal and explore what is beyond. Once the task is completed, workers will be handsomely rewarded.
Antero Kalervo
Dargys ponders Klaus’ words, and is not disdainful of his points, but he is resigned, ”Klaus, listen… I don’t blame you for being confused, worried, and most especially scared. By the hells, I’m terrified. But that’s why I think we should stick it out. You say we should report to the guard, but there’s a lot we don’t know, so what do we report? We ran out on a job when a water ice ghost attacked? With what evidence? They’d like put us away in an Asylum. Then there’s the matter of this ‘doom’. Even if we’re listened to, while the guards fuss over the paperwork of whether they should take action or not, it could be too late.”
He scratches his chin, ”Alistair also brings up a point. Your family is wealthy and I envy that, but most of us? This is our one chance to better our lots, and the lots of our kin. I want to save my family, aye, but I also want to better things for them and myself and this is an honorable way to do that. I risk my life at least three times a week for a pittance. Oh odds are good I’ll live but accidents happen even in mock fights. I’m not brave, I’m...running out of options. I want wealth that allows me some pride in the earning, you want respect from those that know you. THIS is our chance for that.”
Then the warrior smiles weakly ”Sides, I’m staying down here with or with out you, if I die because a wizard wasn’t here to help me, who will marry your sister?”
"If you want to head out, can't blame you, and it wouldn't hurt to have one of us let the guard know, even if the rest of us keep at it. But I'm going to keep at this, and I'd be glad to have you with us." Deshe answers Klaus.
"Anyway, from what my training says, often the way to settle a haunting like this is a proper burial of bones. There were some tiny bones in that other chamber- not sure if they're the right ones, but it might be worth giving a shot."
"Think about it, it's not like your mentor is going to go scraping down in a hole like this."
Klaus knows he's right. Just trying to picture Magus Kellavia down here seemed ridiculous. She would summon an army of cleaning imps and hand each of them a wand of Prestidigitation before even considering taking one step into the sealed chamber. Eyeing the grime now trickling away with the water left behind by the strange spirit, he wishes he had his own cleaning imps.
”Klaus, listen… I don’t blame you for being confused, worried, and most especially scared. By the hells, I’m terrified. But that’s why I think we should stick it out. You say we should report to the guard, but there’s a lot we don’t know, so what do we report? We ran out on a job when a water ice ghost attacked? With what evidence? They’d like put us away in an Asylum. Then there’s the matter of this ‘doom’. Even if we’re listened to, while the guards fuss over the paperwork of whether they should take action or not, it could be too late.”
Klaus feels small as Dargys hits the nail on the head. Klaus is scared. Becoming a wizard had mostly been because his father and his aunt wanted it. He'd never really thought of what came after, and now confronted with what he might be able to do with it. Even Alistair had commented that Klaus being here could be of use, arcane knowledge and all that.
He chews his lip in thought.
”Sides, I’m staying down here with or with out you, if I die because a wizard wasn’t here to help me, who will marry your sister?”
Klaus groans. Ulrikke! Gods above...she'd never forgive him if Dargys died because Klaus abandoned him down here. Klaus may as well just change his name and leave the city.
"If you want to head out, can't blame you, and it wouldn't hurt to have one of us let the guard know, even if the rest of us keep at it. But I'm going to keep at this, and I'd be glad to have you with us."
Even Deshe had kind words for Klaus both accepting whatever he decided while quietly showing the grit to continue.
"I-I...well." Then he sighs. "Fine. I'll stick around if you guys aren't leaving. We can take a look at a few more rooms. Maybe we'll find some proof of this alleged unicorn tributing doom. Oh, and fortune and glory and all that."
Mumbling to Dargys, "Besides, if I don't come back with you alive and well, I just know Ulrikke would make sure my death is worse than anything down here..."
With the return of his hearing, Rasmus blinks once or twice, stretches his jaw, and winces.
"Well, lads, I can hear once again. Sounds like the screams of the infernal powers were just what I needed to heal meself."
Hearing Klaus' trepidation and talk of leaving this to the professionals, Rasmus smiles sadly,
"Lad, we all wish we could go back to a simpler time. Heavens above know that I've seen more than I really bargained fer, but the fates don't wait fer us to get our lives in order."
He nods at what Dargys says, and listens to the others with interest. Upon hearing Deshe's comment about the haunts, Rasmus says,
"I do think ye've got it right, but perhaps the smaller bones tie to the girl ye saw earlier. Either way, to put the souls to rest is a fine goal."
Rasmus nods, and walks into the room so quickly abandoned during the spirit encounter, pulling down the small casket off the shelves. He solemnly brings it to Deshe and nods. Then he returns to the earthenware pot and he resumes his attempt to loosen the honey to retrieve the item inside.
"Does that mean we collect any bones we find and bury them outside? Or would a good box and a corner in a room work kind of like a mausoleum?" Alistair asks of Deshe.
Once Deshe answers, Alistair waves for the others to follow, "While Rasmus gets this honey melted, let's check out the rest of this hall." With that he turns down the hall and slips up to the edge of the corner to peak around.
Belfer shrugs, "I suspect that's up to the spirit. However, we should avoid picking a corner of the room down here. If this really is the mad mages tomb, I doubt any other spirit will find rest within it."
...
"Before we check the rest of the hall, I noticed something else over here. It looks like a stone tile that's settled funny at first, but I think it's hinged like a trap door. Now that we have a break from the other worldly excitement, let's take a quick look. Can someone lift it up?"