Ravel swings wildly at the flaming skull nearest her, bringing her sickle to bear down on the burning spirit.
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"Oh no, not these fire spirits again!"
Dusting herself off after her descent, Ravel looks around. "If this is where the elevator fell... we should begin looking for bodily remains..." She kneels and begins to slowly sift through debris, looking for the crushed Warden.
Ravel raises an eyebrow as newcomers flood into the estate. She mutters, "Perhaps you had the right inkling, Terrance."
Smiling, "Thank you. What is the nature of this news?" She inquires as she takes the offered chair.
Ravel dresses in her dark outfit, combing her hair and heading to the door as well. She looks to Terrance, "Are you in the habit of answering other peoples' doors so armed, Master Foehammer?"
Ravel kneels down to embrace Ake. "If you need us, you know where to find us." Standing she addresses the shopkeep. [b]"I will be back when I have more time. I would like to see what you have in the ways of sleeping elixirs or dream poultices... that is how I met the Professor in my youth, he was one of many of my bedside caretakers." [/ b]
Smiling at the excitable little sorceress, "Jominda, have you any herbs or elixirs that would assist us in destroying spirits, haunts, or the creatures that refuse to accept the grave?"
"How very kind of you to offer such a generous discount."
Before leaving, "You have much fonder memories than I, Ingrid. The herbs usually remind me of all the medicines my father had doctors and healers try in my youth to help me get past being mostly bed-ridden. Dill still makes my nose wrinkle."
"I could use some fresh air, tonight. Terrance, you seem to have Jorfa's favor, perhaps we could place our order this evening and pick them up tomorrow in case she does not have all we need on hand? It will give us a chance to check up on the townsfolk too. I am certain there are questions they will have for us."
Once home, Ravel retires to her room to change. She examines the bruises the chains left before she puts on her brown and umber outfit. Tying her hair up with a ribbon, she returns to the parlor, letting Narcissa flit about. "The spirits know we are seeking to sever their tether to the living world... we are going to need all the help we can get. It is not just us caught in this crossfire, but all of the townsfolk. I think that our next objective should be returning the Warden's belongings to his wife so she can help keep the prisoners held back while we continue our investigation... What does everyone think?"
Ravel starts to chastise Ioann but stops herself. At least he is trying... She sighs. "I cannot say what his intentions were... I was trapped in a nightmare vision with him. When the spirit's attacks were too much for me, The Charlatan stepped in while I was on the brink of death. In my vision he first appeared as a youthful priest claiming I had been dead some time..." her voice softens as she recalls his false news. "He said that friends were all slain or scattered... I did not want to believe him but when I could not sense Narcissa I fell for his lies... it was horrible, Ioann. I... I don't have many people that I consider friends. To lose them would devastate me." idly she rubs the bruises on her neck and wrists. She kneels down, "It is nice to have a familiar face in this strange circumstance." Quickly, before he can brush her away, Ravel kisses the top of Ioann's head before she stands and turns back to join the others.
After ensuring the townsfolk are tended to, Ravel walks to find Ioaan. Seeing him slumped against a wall she approaches slowly. "Thank you for saving me from Father Charlatan and the fire..."
Ravel walks to the injured man, assuming him to be Mr. Ghoroven. "There, there. Rest now until my friends can aid you."
Ravel starts to retort, then thinks better of it. She abandons her efforts to save the burning building, and tries to check on the townsfolk already outside. "Is everyone all right? Does anyone need help?"
Still shocked, Ravel mumbles, "My knight in shining impenetrable emotional armor..." Unable to help with the fire, Ravel attempts to repair the structural damage to the building slowly. She makes a fist as she whispers in Giant, mending the door frame. "Opraviť"
Ravel is much too stunned to protest.
Idly, Ravel holds the amethyst stone in her palm, a stone that matches her left eye. She nods slowly as she replies to Uklod. "Yes... yes I think I am okay, just a bit out of breath from the Charlatan's ghostly grip..." It dawns on her that the meeting hall is still aflame. "We have to get everyone outside! And ourselves." She tucks the stone into her belt pouch as she helps her small bat up on her shoulder.
Ravel manages a smile, "Yes he seems his usual self... where did the glass come from? ... Is everyone from town okay?" She slowly stirs and tries to rise. "What can I do to help?" She goes to rub the bruises that the ethereal chains left upon her body.
Between coughs, tears well from Ravel's eyes both from smoke and trauma. "Narcissa!" her eyes dart about. "Ioann? Where is Ioann? He said Ioann was slain...." her frantic gaze falls to Ingrid standing over her. "It was the Charlatan... whatever you did.... it really ticked him off..."
Ravel will help Father Grimburrow, but otherwise there is not much she can do besides helping others to escape.
Ravel smiles, trying to remain calm. "Thank you, Ake, dear. Could you do that again?" She looks about the panicked throng. "Father, do you have any way to quench these flames?" Ravel's grip on Narcissa's cage tightens as she tries to calm her tiny friend, and herself.
As Ravel steps closer to the fire nearest her and Ake, she draws another haunt siphon from her pouch, twisting the casing and holding it aloft, hoping that these sudden pyrotechnics are vulnerable to the siphon.
Ravel smiles at Ioann, then addresses the man in the crowd. "No, we are not certain. There are restless spirits that linger on in the land of the living, there is absolutely nothing certain about that. But what I do know is that we are going to try, and do all within our power to keep these forces at bay, or to dissolve their effects. If in any way we can protect this town from harm we will do so," Ravel's smile fades a bit, "And for the skeptics out there, would you rather risk your own lives in facing these evils or let outsiders stand in harm's way? If we succeed, you stand to gain much. If we fail, you do not need to mourn our loss."
As the sun sets, Ravel folds her parasol and settles in with the group. She once more wears her purple and blue peasant's ensemble, ensuring that her holy symbol is prominently displayed Desnan-side-out. Ravel returns smiles and scowls with a bright smile of her own, trying to stay the gathering of torches and pitchforks for another night.
Ravel waits to exit last, keeping her floating orb of light behind the others to not blind them.
"I am not certain if he will show himself. We know that this haunted prison holds many restless dead, but all we have to go off of is one trapped ghost's story about other spirits... it is very difficult to determine what the probably cause of events should be. If the Father will not manifest, perhaps we should go to the meeting and address the situation later tonight. It could be as simple as daylight keeping him at bay."
"If we head back into town with a corpse there is no chance of anyone aiding us ever again... It isn't as if they are unaware of the bodies here, they fully know that there are still remains inside, but Harrowstone as a whole has been forgotten. They try to overlook and ignore the dark stain on their past. Yes, it is terribly frustrating that every other spook within these walls have made their presence uninvited and the spirit we seek out is silent. We know his shade remains, but we are going to have to find what will draw him out... because apparently walking right out into your eternal demise does not bode well with the false priest. These ghosts are smart, or at least smarter than the boogey-bumps we have faced off against so far."
Ravel tries to read the journal, then too grows frustrated. "Damn the impatience of men!"
Stepping into the room, Ravel looks over the book for magical properties before picking it up to examine it closer.
Ravel's hand reaches up to rub the back of her own holy symbol, her taloned thumb grazing the hidden visage like a worry-stone. "For those with divine graces, be ready to pray."
Ravel whispers, conjuring another witchlight to dance behind the party, trying to shed some light on the room within.
"Guardsman Foehammer has replicated a map of the prison, can you please show us where the Father resides?"
Ravel lowers and stows her parasol once they reach the prison. "What is our plan for this trip inside?"
"It should go without saying, but unless it specifically comes up, I don't think we should offer up the information about our nightly forays into the prison." Ravel leans forward, "These maps will be very useful. Have you started a tally of how many doors Ioann has destroyed?"
Ravel looks up from her own book with a growing smile. "So clearly you suggest a preemptive strike? We will gather torches and pitchforks and bring our small mob to the meeting to run the entire population out of town? ... No? Well then perhaps we should just attend the meeting and hear some of the conjecture we have missed out on."
Ravel is about to say something to Kendra, but thinks better of it. She takes a seat and opens a book while she pets Narcissa.
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