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Yes, I fear we're done. I misjudged the adventure and can't write as much as it needs. I might try my hand at a dungeon crawl one day, so if you'd like to join up for that, you'd be very welcome. We did seem to have a good group of players. Thanks again. I'll look into this "inactive" business.
I'd still like to record thanks to everyone for playing along as much as you did. I enjoyed it when it was going well. If I do this again, I think I'll try something more structured, old fashioned dungeon sort of thing. This AP lark has too many sections that are implied rather than specific, and with my teaching and marking level going through the roof, I don't have the time to craft the responses you all need and deserve. So I guess it's so long and thanks for all the fish time. I expect I'll see some of you around. Live long and prosper whilst we're at it... ;-)
It did, and I take responsibility for that, though back in the day when this was Yahoo groups, I seem to remember much more inter-character play without input from the DM. I think the adventures were much more linear, though. This has been rather freer form than I think I expected.
Sorry to hear that. I'm not sure what to do -- I don't wait for everyone to post and I get told off, and then I wait to post after everyone's commented, and that doesn't seem right either. I have been busy with work, it's true -- but I thought I'd done enough to keep it bubbling along, but perhaps not. I also can't help but notice Cassandra is now running this adventure as GM with a high posting rate, so I rather imagine she's fed up with me as well. Well, I guess it's come to a end, then, if we're two down. I'm sorry for any disappointment-- I did genuinely start this with the best of intentions.
Though you hunt diligently, there's no signs particularly of where the poor professor might have met his end -- there are large pieces of rock strewn around the place, fallen masonry, collapsed ha-has, broken walls, and there's the remnants of a large gargoyle, but it's nowhere near where it might have fallen naturally. It's raining a little even now, and it's certainly rained since the incident, so it's unlikely much would remain to look at. The prison is quiet, but it's somehow not a peaceful quiet, it's a quiet that's utterly devoid of life: the more you enter the grounds the more the natural sounds of the countryside appear to be diminished -- you get the eerie sense you're not welcome, though quite what is telling you that is a mystery. You approach the main part of the prison. Windows in the building’s facade are narrow and blocked by grills of rusty iron bars. Stone columns support a slumping wooden balcony over the building’s wooden front doors, both of which hang askew and reveal dark glimpses of chambers within. To the north-west appears to be a small brick manor house, but it is overgrown with thick sheets of gray-green ivy. The roof sags ominously, and the front door likewise hangs off its hinges. Neither place looks in the least bit welcoming.
Xavian's spell reveals nothing of any particular significance as he enters the grounds, but it is strange -- he senses that there's a all round aura, more like an echo, or one of those occasions where you see something out the corner of your eye, but once you look more intently, you cannot see the thing you thought you saw. The spell is trying to show him something, but it's so faint he can't tell where.
I prefer concepts to rules. Where 5lbs of silver could hide itself inside a pint of water is rather beyond me! So you bought that once, but can now reuse it. :-) hope no one else is too bothered by that.
The prison is surrounded by a 20ft high curtain wall, which must be 10ft thick at the base. It extends round the central prison area in a slightly squashed hexagon shape, and as you step aware from the main gate, and follow it north, it seems in surprisingly good condition. Some of the corners have stone towers rising up far above the height of the wall, and these would appear to be observation posts. Just as you're beginning to be thankful the main doors were clearly rotten and open -- for it would require some great additional planning and equipment to get over the wall -- you turn the fourth corner of your ambulatory peregrination around Harrowstone, and discover the reason it is no longer used as a prison. The wall here has collapsed, and you encounter instead a large pond of dark, muddy water which spreads out along the eastern section of the prison grounds. Here and there, bits of ruined wall protrude from the water, and thick tangles of reeds and cattails grow along the muddy shores. Clearly, like many high-security prisons, many of the actual cells must have been underground. When the fire raged, it triggered a collapse, and now a vast sinkhole has formed. In the fifty intervening years, this has become a filthy, stagnant pool of water -- and none too fragrant, either. Standing on the far side of this pond, you can see clearly into the ruins of the prison itself, and the inner buildings, mostly two-storey affairs are in much less good condition than the majority of the outside wall. Ivy and moss cling tenaciously to the walls, while above the wooden shingles of the roof are often missing entirely, exposing the wooden rafters of the upper structure to the sky. Here and there, leering stone gargoyles perch on the eaves, once functioning as drainspouts and decorations but now seeming almost to serve a more ominous role of sentinels. Many of these stone decorations have crumbled away and lie in ruined piles on the soggy ground below. Supposedly it was one of these that caused the Professor's death, though at this distance it's quite impossible to tell more.
I'm happy for Shanoa to adjust her spell list, if you wanted. On the other hand, it's not like silver dissolves in water... so if you needed 5lbs of silver to make holy water, I reckon you'd still have 4.99lbs of it at the end of the process! But Xavian is right -- you did already pick up six vials between the four of you in the vault, so perhaps another spell might be better. I think, incidentally, you all deserve another 100XP each for researching some more about the prison and its inmates.
Melismar feels a little more confident he might assist in that, this time. Kerthonk gets another surreptitious fondle.
A consensus appears to have been reached, and though tempers may have been a little frayed during the discussion -- you can't help but wonder whether, in truth, whether Xavian even realized there was a disagreement -- you soon all retire, having spent a pleasant evening recuperating from the exertions of the day. After idle conversation has died away, you then completed whatever preparations appeared to suit you best for the challenges of the new morn, and slept easy. Fortunately, Kendra, too, appears to have a much better night of it, and only appears belatedly in her nightdress, to wave you all off with a yawn after you have broken your own fasts at first light. You stick to the plan, and it's as well you did, for although you think yourselves up scandalously early, in a farming community like this, there are surprising numbers of people similarly up with the lark. You head out of town to the east, but it doesn't take long before you've left the environs of the town behind. Following the side of a hill and slowly arcing round to the south, it's not so terribly long before you see the stark outline of the collapsed prison ahead and above you. Its stone walls are bathed in wash of yellow from the rising sun, the rays of which have not yet made it over the lip of the valley to illuminate your surroundings nearly so well. In this light, the prison looks positively welcoming compared to the darker lowlands you traverse, but the closer you get, the more that impression dwindles. Harrowstone is located on a barren hill south of the city of Ravengro, the stark, sagging roof of its central structure visible through a large gap in the surrounding wall. A partially overgrown track leads from the southern edge of town, winding around the base of the hill and then back up along its southern slope to the prison itself. But because of your subterfuge, you join this very high up, and the level of vegetation makes your passage much easier, as it happens. A sagging wood and metal gate set between a pair of stone guard towers once barred entrance into Harrowstone, but the gates now hang negligently open, creaking softly in what wind touches the ruined bars.
The sheriff replies "No, not ever. There was an attempt to stage a massive breakout fifth years ago, but it was thwarted by the self-sacrifice of the warder and his fellow workers who locked themselves in the prison until help could come. Unfortunately something triggered a fire, and that's what this monument is for: to commemorate their bravery and dedication to duty. It was a horrendous blaze that claimed the lives of many of the wardens and all the prisoners, though most of those were up for execution anyway, and the tales I hear, no great loss to society. The warder's wife also was lost in the tragedy, as it happens, though no-one quite knows why she was doing up there at the time. So, no, no one ever escaped Harrowstone -- at least, only through death." And that would appear to be all the information he cares to offer on the subject, for with a polite "Excuse me", he's off to speak to another group of people.
Cassandra can not sense whether blood is human or not, but there's not enough of it around for it to represent a person's death by exsanguination -- it's just splattered everywhere as those someone was painting with it. The locals are muttering darkly about "times being what they are" and "not like this in the old days", though Alessa does hear some comments from Gibs's group about "strangers in town". Xavian's Knowledge:
Something about this situation nags at the back of Xavian's mind, and then suddenly he gets it -- it reminds him of a story connected with the old prison. His extensive local knowledge, and the research he was able to do at the professor's house last night, brings back some of the details from his encycloypaedic brain. It concerned a certain Professor Feramin, who was a celebrated scholar of Anthroponomastics (the study of personal names and their origins) at the Quartrefaux Archives in Caliphas. Yet an accidental association with a succubus twisted and warped his study, turning it into an obsession. Feramin became obsessed with the power of a name and how he could use it to terrify and control. Soon enough, his reputation was ruined, he’d lost his tenure, and he’d developed an uncontrollable obsession with an imaginary link between a person’s name and what happens to that name when the person dies. Every few days, he would secretly arrange for his victim to find a letter from her name written in blood, perhaps smeared on a wall or spelled out with carefully arranged entrails. Once he had spelled his victim’s name, he would at last come for her, killing her in a gory mess using a complex trap or series of rigged events meant to look like an accident. He was a prisoner at the time of the fire -- that this should be the memorial to that fire... Xavian's mind begins to whirl. Shanoa charms the sheriff, it would appear. "That's very kind of you, young lady, but this is a local mattter -- best let the authorities deal with it. I hope you enjoy your stay in Ravengro, it's a good town when things aren't a bit mixed up like this. I trust we'll get to the bottom of this business soon, and life will go back to normal. Probably just kids messing around trying to scare each other. You know how it is."
Unable to withstand sating her curiosity, Kendra decides to accompany you. She tells you that she finds it very hard to imagine what everybody was off to do, for there is little to the south of her house, apart from the river, a councillor, Mirta Straelocks's rather grand house, and the prison itself, and she cannot conceive that everybody was heading up there. Indeed, in no time at all, you've reached the bridge over the river, and crossing over you soon come to a meeting of the ways, marked by a posting pole, which would normally have local news tacked on it, though it's empty at the moment. However, it suddenly occurs to Kendra that there is something else nearby, she'd almost forgotten: a stone memorial which was erected after the Harrowstone fire in 4661. The town built it in honour of the guards who gave their lives preventing the prisoners from escaping and thus saving the village from a night of even worse violence. As there seems little else to head to, she sets off west and then realizes another thing she'd forgotten about -- a fairly ramshackle hut where the unpleasant retired farmer, Gibs Hephenus (the ringleader of the confrontation in the graveyard) lives out his days. You cross in front of the veranda, half expecting him to be sitting on it, glaring at you, but luckily for you, he isn't. If you exclude the looming ruins of Harrowstone on the hill to the south, Ravengro’s most distinctive landmark has to be this 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue that overlooks the river. The statue depicts a proud, muscular human man dressed in leathers and wielding a truncheon -- a depiction of Warden Hawkran. A total of 25 names -- the guards who died in the fire of 4661, as well as the warden’s wife, Vesorianna -- are chiselled into the statue’s stone base. Kendra tell you that the memorial is a popular meeting spot for late-night trysts among Ravengro’s young lovers, for it has just the right mix of tragic romance and spooky ambience without actually being on Harrowstone’s supposedly haunted grounds. It is definitely spookier today. The entire base of the statue is spattered in what appears to be blood. A giant red letter "V" is daubed on the pedestal, with descending trails indicating the blood was very fresh when it was painted on. Several groups of people are standing around, some of them with very suspicious, if not downright hostile looks on their faces as they cast gazes in your direction. You also spot the reason Gibs Hephenus was not at home -- he's standing in one of these faintly accusing groups, darkly muttering with other less than salubrious fellows. All the people round about you are clearly outraged at the desecration of their town's symbol. Someone who Kendra quickly whispers to you is the local town sheriff, Benjan Caeller, strides over to you with someone you presume is a deputy in tow. "Rum business, this," he says, darkly. "People are mighty edgy in town at the moment, and this sort of thing certainly doesn't help any. Are you staying in town long?"
Very accurate assessment! Work is manic. Apologies, the delay is because the next post needs a lot of crafting, and I've just had no time. Please be just a little patient, and I'll try and get something up soon.
The world of giant insects and animated skeletons seems entirely confined to the environs of the old mausoleum. Returning to the light is harsh on the eyes, but pleasant to all other senses. You've successfully claimed the prizes from the hidden cache, and as you quickly leave the graveyard, you see no one that asks any awkward questions, not even casting a suspicious glance in your direction. Your relative easy success buoys up your spirits, but on approaching the town a consternation swiftly replaces it. Returning to the town from the north, you notice small clusters of people quietly and nervously conferring in the doorways or out on the street. There's a great intensity to their talk (in spite of the hushed volume), but every time someone perceives you nearing, the conversation dries up entirely, and everyone appears to remember something they have in the oven. A couple of overseen gesticulations would imply the great topic of interest lies in the south of the town -- and that's a worry, because that's precisely where the Professor's House is!
Hello, sorry about slow down -- one or two things at work. Shall hopefully have a chance to put a post together this evening or tomorrow.
Shanoa's attempts to find tracks are unsuccessful where you've be fighting the skeletons, as the floors are hard marble, and whatever dust there might have been has been completely churned up by shoes, feet and tarsals. However, there's evidence over near the sarcophagus that makes Shanoa believe it can only have been opened recently, and if her tracking skills are up to snuff, by only one person. No one seems to have much clue how the brass planchette and board operate, beyond a basic general knowledge of what a seance might involve.
Xavian's knowledge:
Xavian investigates the darkwood case, and it's a pretty impressive bit of craftsmanship, worth a good 50 gold pieces, if the investigator is any judge of things. It opens readily, and appears to contain three objects—a spirit board with a brass spirit planchette, and four iron and glass vials containing tiny, churning clouds of vapor. The vials sit in velvet-lined indentations to the left of the spirit board and planchette, along with six empty indentions. The vials are all valuable magic items which Xavian recognizes as haunt siphons. These glass phylacteries are held within stylized cold-iron casings etched with strange runes, necromantic designs, or other eldritch markings. Within the vial roils a small wisp of white vapour, churning as if caught in a miniature vortex of air. To capture a haunt’s energy within a siphon, you need only twist the metal casing to open the vial near its manifestation -- and, well, the theory was that that would take care of it. He also recognizes the ouija board, and its accompanying planchette, but can't claim any great familiarity with its use. Given its location, communicating with the dead appears to have been a focus with some Order members.
"Alyssa, why don't you take the arrows for undead and such. I'll take the magic arrows, unless you want any."
Xavian's Spellcraft:
Xavian's long training has clearly paid off, even though he's not had that much experience in the field. He soon determines that there are: 10 magically enhanced arrows (+1); a further 5 which have been specially enchanted to deal with creatures of a less than corporeal nature (+1 ghost touch); and a remaining 2 which he prophesies would be extra harmful were they fired against certain types of undead (+1 undead bane) The potions are easily identified as 5 simple draughts of health restoration (cure light wounds) and two that would assist with the dispelling of magical effects (lesser restoration). Xavian has a slightly harder time with some of the scrolls, for the writing is faint in some places, though he senses a potency still within them. Two scrolls clearly contain spells to assist with the detection of undead, and a third is a simple protection against evil. He's a feeling he's just being a little stupid, or maybe the light's just not good enough, but no amount of head-scratching will reveal the purpose of the other two scrolls, though he's sure they're not that impressive. A rootle around the Professor's library would surely tell him all in no time.
Alessa: I'm much more careful about copying my text onto the clipboard when I'm typing long posts usually, but sometimes I don't remember and get too involved in the post, and then I hit Command Backspace, or something, and the web page goes back, or the boards go down, or the battery goes, or my phone loses reception -- can't begin to say how many of these posts have been typed on an iPhone. Why is Square Bracket so complicated to get to! Haha.
Xavian's detect magic spell reveals nothing of a suspicious nature about the skeletons, nor anything about their person. The lack of a magical aura about their bones makes him wonder whether traditional necromancy was even involved. Furthermore, Alessa's theory about the Pharasman priests not using animated dead creatures as guards is borne out by the fact that none of the three were either armed nor indeed armoured, so clearly that was not intended to be their role. Quite why they rose up and attacked you, is, like so much else at the moment, a bit of a mystery. Alessa's diligent gathering up of the bones and replacement within the alcoves achieves no obvious immediate effect, but it makes the paladin feel good, and somewhere in a distant plane, perchance there is a goddess smiling. Whilst Alessa is busy with the alcoves, Shanao's searching of the mausoleum soon leads her to the central sarcophagus, though as you'd suspected from the top of the stairs, you are not the first to open it. The stone lid hasn't quite bedded down properly again, leaving a good two inch gap at one end. Keen not to encounter another corpse anytime soon, the inquisitor is quite pleasantly surprised when she uses her lantern light to illuminate the inside and discovers that it appears not to have ever been used for an interment. Instead it resembles more a giant jewellery box, with a complicated internal sectionalization of dovetailed wood panels. Shanao calls Xavian over, and together they slide the lid further off to allow access. The light filters in and reveals a dozen arrows whose tips glisten in a way that reveals they cannot be traditional iron-tipped -- they look silver. Then there is a section with four sun rods in it, though several are missing, as are some flasks of holy water, though six remain, with Pharasma's sigil etched into the glass. Another compartment has a further variety of different arrows in, all of which glow with an aura that Xavian recognizes as magic as he concentrates on maintaining his spell. Carefully wrapped in a thin gauze, seven potions of some kind are also present, as well as various scrolls. Tucked away down the back is something that appears to be an actual jewellery box: a thin darkwood case decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back—the same design that appeared on the cover of the Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye, which had been amongst the books in the professor’s collection.
It's not so much an attack that Xavian needs to dodge, but rather more, Alessa's bounding strike, which not merely dispatches the skeleton, but also detaches the skull from its body, whence careers it gracefully into the south wall, not so very far from Xavian's own. The bones collapse with the now familiar sound of dropped ivory, and immediately afterwards the crypt regains its former quietness. Nothing emanates from the the other biers, and you appear, once more, to be alone.
Skeletons' Will Saves:
Cassandra's weakened state physically seems to have affected her channelled power, and now that also seems too weak to affect the skeletons that much. Certainly, on this occasion, though the one attacking Shanao staggers ever so slightly, the other barely reacts to the wave of energy. Skeleton No.2 attack:
It's enough to throw the next skeleton's attack off, though, and again it scrabbles in the air fruitlessly trying to find some form of purchase on Shanoa. Alessa's attacker is less lucky, however, and though initially she fears her side-swiping blow has missed, in fact it connects with the very backbone of the skeleton, and with the sound of a something resembling a dropped marimba, the undead skeleton falls to the floor tangled once more in the bones of its fellow. Xavian concentrates on moving defensively this round, but Shanoa is still gamely attempting to attack. Unfortunately, perhaps because she's concentrating on keeping the lantern upright at the same time, her erratically swinging morningstar is barely doing anything to keep the skeleton at bay.
It would appear that Pharasma's guidance is indeed behind Alessa's hand, for her light mace smashes into the skull of the advancing skeleton and instantly life winks out of it, presumably for the second time in its existence, Alessa can't help but think wryly. The bones clatter to the floor as though some giant puppeteer has suddenly cut all the strings in the heavens above. Xavian hardly appears to step forward at all to release his flying magical force, though to your eyes the missile almost seems to bend round the corner of the steps. It does indeed streak unerringly towards the nearest skeleton, rather unfairly striking it from behind, as it has turned its attention entirely to Alessa. It reels from the force, though the strings on this one are not snapped so easily, it seems, but fortunately it seems not to have realized whence the attack came, and with a rictus of rage it presses its attack on Alessa.
Skeleton No.3 attack on Alessa:
Stumbling spectacularly into the bones of its fallen companion, however, its attack is lost in a desperate attempt to keep itself upright. It is not the only combatant to fare badly. Shanoa's fear of the undead is enough to weaken the normal control of her weapon that was so effective at dispatching the centipedes. On this occasion, it swooshes entirely ineffectually in front of her chosen foe.
Will Saves:
Encounter map Cassandra's connection to her goddess brings forth an explosion of positive energy, and the skeletons rear back, but whether it is her weakened, wounded state or the fact that they're close to their graves anyway and draw some form of power from them, they maintain an upright position, and if anything attack with more fervour. The skeleton from the left is finally free of its shroud, and enters the fray, making a beeline for Alessa. Skeleton 2 attacks:
Its horrible jaw gapes in a threatening fashion, but its claws flash harmlessly some distance in front Alessa's face.
Alessa attempts to creep into the room, but the flagstones are a little uneven, and she unexpectedly catches her foot, which causes her to stagger, and her chain shirt rattles quite markedly as she thrusts out her foot to catch herself. Cassandra gasps, Shanoa starts, and the sound clearly also disturbs the other occupants of the room -- that's if they hadn't heard Xavian's comment from the stairs. Shanoa's creeping light reveals the source of the clacking over to the left of the room, where a strangely animated skeleton is attempting to rise from its sunken bier in the wall, removing its last shreds of wrappings. To those with normal eyes, the light doesn't quite reveal a further two skeletons on the right of the room doing the same, but Alessa has no problem perceiving them, and cries out a warning. Initiatives (Ale; Cas; Sha; Xav; Ske):
But the skeletons are already moving, and they launch themselves at you. An unnatural sight appears to guide their clawed, bony hands towards the eyes of the living, their own such orbs have long since rotted away. Poor Alessa and Cassandra bear the brunt of the attack. Skeletons 1 & 2 attack:
The skeleton attacking Alessa comes terribly close to gouging a handful of flesh out of her face, but Cassandra's magic has clearly curried favour with the goddess, and Alessa just manages to flinch back out the way of the scrabbling fingers. Perhaps Cassandra should have cast the Shield of Faith on herself, however, for she is not so lucky and the skeletal creature's creaking fingers scratch a large wound on the side of her head.
Xavian's detect magic gives him a distinct sense of an aura that emanates from the sarcophagus directly in front of him. At this distance, however, he cannot be more precise. Xavian also hears a rustling, clacking sort of sound from somewhere up ahead.
Thanks, I'm glad you like the results. I'm using Adobe Photoshop to create the maps -- just lots of layers and transparency effects. :-)
As you begin your descent into the crypt proper, Cassandra's sharp ears do indeed pick up a sound, though on this occasion it's less skittering and more... clacking. The mixture of lantern and torch light show a certain amount to all, but not the source of the noise. However, the lights do reveal the vague outlines of a large sarcophagus at the bottom of the second crypt, on a slightly raised dais. You can't quite tell at this distance for certain, but the lid may be slightly ajar.
Cassandra's attempt to resuscitate the centipedes ends in disappointment for her, though I suspect not for her colleagues. Cassandra's diligent searching of the space pays dividends before too long. What looked like a solid marble wall on the north side is actually a series of panels, and one of them operates as a door -- not so much a secret door as a well-integrated piece of craftsmanship. Her gentle exploration actually opens it easily, and it swings back to reveal a continuation of the crypt, and a further descending staircase of stone deeper into the ground. Shanao's light shows a certain amount, as it spills through the door and illuminates the interior, but it's clear the section behind the door has no similar skylight as where you're standing -- it looks very dark beyond, and Cassandra feels nervous that she's suddenly become the vanguard of the party.
Xavian certainly thinks that the female warriors cut a dash, for with scarcely dropping a beat they turn as one and to confront the angry, chittering threat from the other side of the mausoleum. Again, it's Shanao who is first off, and another hefty strike with her morningstar is enough to despatch the second giant centipede with scarcely a second thought. Alessa has time to delay her lunge, this time, and in a controlled and elegant, even chivalrous way, steps backwards to protect Cassandra, who has hardly had time to do anything beyond catch her breath. Once the insects' twitching has stopped -- it's surprising how long it takes -- the tomb regains its eerie stillness. Everyone's ears are are pricking as they listen intently for any further rustlings, but the only noise is your own breathing.
Xavian remains watchful on the steps, and sees Shanoa taking somewhat direction action against the unwelcome intruder. In no time at all, she crosses the divide between her present position and heads towards the threatening insect; the mighty swing of her morningstar cracks the carapace of the centipede. It skitters, lifelessly, if with a certain amount of twitching, across the floor. Alessa's impressive cat-like grace is rather undone by Shanoa's action, and her rapier penetrates only air, as her companion's action knocks the insect's remains out of harm's way. Cassandra needs to take a step forward to lay hands on Shanoa, but she's happy to do that. It does involve stepping onto the marble floor, however, and she can't quite control a little shriek when she hears a skittering from the left as well. Suddenly there's another centipede racing towards the action -- and it seems to be making a beeline straight for Cassandra.
Dice Rolls:
Initiatives (Ale; Cas; Sha; Xav; Cen):
Dice Rolls:
Survival: Alessa, Cassandra, Shanoa, Xavian: The room is not so dark that it requires a light spell, it's just dank and murky, but Shanoa's lamp offers a consolation of sort for those with weaker eyes. It's a warm light that spreads out. However, without further exploration, there's no clear pattern to the tracks at all that you can perceive from this distance. Xavian's spell has revealed nothing of magical interest in the room, but Cassandra's spells take hold and give your confidences a little fillip.
Just as she speaks, Shanoa hears a faint, skittering sound from somewhere off to the right. She listens intently, but it doesn't come again. However, it occurs to her that, perhaps, not everything has "gone".
It is Alessa's sharp elven eyes in the dim light that pick up tracks on the floor of recent activity -- one particular scattering of detritus, cobwebs and plain dirt has a very obvious footprint in it -- that of a booted human, so far one can tell these things at a glance. You pause on the steps to allow those with more human eyes to adjust, though Cassandra has no such difficulty, of course -- another aspect of her strange heritage. However, to all of you, the mausoleum appears to be strangely cold and echoey, but otherwise empty and disused.
The crypt is dark, though not pitch black -- there's a skylight in the roof of glass, not so much stained, as discoloured and dirty, and you can tell your eyes will adjust to the light given a chance. The first thing you see is a descending flight of stone steps leading to an ornate mosaic tiled floor. There is a smell, but it's musty and cold earth based, not of death, with only a slight edge of rotting leaf mould, maybe. There are no obvious catafalques or sarcophagi in the room, nor do any of the biers in the walls appear to have occupants.
Xavian has no clue who was here, or where they might have been, but Alessa sees some confirming signs that the door has been opened recently -- some scratches in the gathered leaf mould in the door's wake. But other than that, she sees nothing untoward in the surroundings, and it's still early enough that no other visitors seem to have arrived in the graveyard as yet.
5 hours to go on this side of the date line, well not really side as the centre. ;-) Happy New Year and Best Wishes to you all. :-)
You're not entirely surprised that it's the detective Xavian who notices the very small something that's amiss, but something about the padlock catches his eye, and although it would escape the notice of most, a minor jiggle from his hand soon reveals that the lock is broken, its clasp melted by acid and then put back into place so that to the casual observer the lock would appear intact. It seems the door is not nearly as locked as it might have appeared at first.
Being disturbed so close to dawn anyway, even those that return to their rooms find it impossible to sleep again, so you are all gathered in the kitchen very early to break your fast. Following through on the suggestions of last night, you all set off together to seek the permission of Father Grimburrow to investigate further the supposed secret cache within the Restlands. Kendra is confident that the priest will be an early riser, along with others of his faith, so arriving early has the added advantage of meaning that your marching through town as a quintet shouldn't raise too many eyebrows. Kendra seems to have recovered some of her fighting spirit during the course of the morning, and the dream seems largely forgotten. Father Grimburrow is still apologetic (and quietly furious) over the sacrilege that disturbed Professor Lorrimor's final journey, and though Kendra convinces him that it's not his fault nor even responsibility, but she also cleverly uses the guilt as a bargaining chip in proceedings. Initially, the old man seems to pooh-pooh the idea that there could be a such a location in the Restlands that he did not know about, but Kendra's political manoeuvring rapidly has him agreeing that there couldn't be too much harm in finding out for certain, and he agrees to your setting forth, on the clear understanding that "you're not to start any trouble". Not surprisingly, Kendra has no particular desire to return to the graveyard so soon, and she opts to return instead to her father's house on the other side of the river. Though she professes perfect contentment about returning alone, you all insist on accompanying her, even though this means retracing your steps, but nowhere is particularly far in Ravengro, and very soon you're marching north out of the village, back to the Restlands. The false crypt mentioned in the professor’s journal is located in the northeast corner of the Restlands, near the junction of the paths known as the Eversleep and the Black Path. The crypt itself is a freestanding granite mausoleum, the roof of which is decorated with a pair of leering gargoyle statues -- there are several other structures like it in the graveyard, but none in the area pinpointed by the Professor's journal. The mausoleum’s south façade, which faces the path, has a single stone door in it, held fast by a sliding iron bolt with a rusty-looking padlock.
Yes, I hope everybody enjoys their holidays. :-)
Xavian's spell reveals nothing of any magical nature, though there's a faint tang of wild garlic on the air, and he's not entirely surprised to see clusters of woven cloves hanging from the curtain rails.
Unfortunately, Alessa's attempts to rush into the room are thwarted because the door is apparently bolted shut. Her almighty bang on the unyielding door appears to trigger another scream.
There's no more signs of anyone screaming, but Alessa can perceive that there are perhaps sounds of someone having trouble breathing.
With all of you in the hallway, a process of elimination reveals that the noises must have come from Kendra's room, which is at the top of the stairs in the attic.
You spend a much more convivial evening together than you might imagine five strangers could have done, and with much politeness, you all bid each other goodnight and retire to your rooms, Alessa and Cassandra bunking in together. The night passes tolerably well, until sometime in the hours near dawn, when you are awoken by a lady's piercing scream. You wake, uncertain quite of what it is you've heard, but then confirmation comes in the form of a great, heaving sob from somewhere in the house.
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