"I think they're done," Luka says as he moves to Trevor, inspecting his arm. "Whatever malevolence animated them seems to have achieved its objective in branding you."
Aldous looks between the door, back down the hallway and back at the door then sighs. As badly as he wanted to see what was going on in there, getting killed in the process was not part of the plan. If needles and shears started flying better to have that eager boy in his suit of armor up front.
Aldous makes it back to the group in time to see Trevor clutching his burned arm with Luka leaning over to inspect it. "Ahh... Another haunting? That looks... unfortunate." With the door still open Aldous peeks inside and doesn't see anything terribly threatening so he steps in circling the room while stopping to inspect an iron here, the desk there, and anything else that catches his eye until he has made the circuit.
Trevor walks off a few paces, still holding his arm and looking down. Finally, he seems to mutter something at himself and walks back. "Sorry about that. It really hurts, that's all..."
Aldous' search turns up little of interest, though you do find that the branding iron matches the letter on Trevor's arm.
"Well . . . did you discover anything back there while Trever was being branded, Aldous?" While waiting for an answer, Arasmes considers Trevor's wound, trying to correlate with what the party knows about the hauntings at Harrowstone and any muttering Arasmes might hear in his own head.
Know: Arcana
Know: Religion
"Well . . . did you discover anything back there while Trever was being branded, Aldous?" While waiting for an answer, Arasmes considers Trevor's wound, trying to correlate with what the party knows about the hauntings at Harrowstone and any muttering Arasmes might hear in his own head.
Know: Arcana 1d20+9
Know: Religion 1d20+11
Arasmes:
After examining Trevor's brand for a few moments, Arasmes drifts off, listening. Abruptly: "Those brands, I think, are manifestations of the collective anger, pain, and humiliation of the prisoners. I doubt we can do much to dispel them until we deal with the individual spirits causing the disturbances here. I'm afraid I don't know what long term consequences the brand will have for you, Trevor. Perhaps it will fade when the haunts here dissipate. Perhaps it will not."
"Sounds fun... Look, I don't feel so good. The hit has injured me gravely and I almost can't feel my arm. Should I use a potion, or could someone have a look at my injuries?"
He then shuts as the pain swell up inside his arm. He winces then looks at the Y branded on his arm, his features dropping and the colours leaving his face.
Yellow...
Hearing Trevor's complaint, Arasmes snaps to attention, coming out of his fugue, and calls on his dark forces to knit the paladin together.
Cure Light:
Feeling the knitting tugging at his arm gets Trevor out of his darker gloom and gives him a new breath. "Master Arasmes, you have my thanks, and my arm!"
He straightens his back somewhat and looks at Aldous: "You didn't find anything here it seems. Lets get to the heart of things!" He then proceeds to open the next door he finds.
Aldous walks alongside Trevor explaining as the walk up the hall, "There is a serious manifestation in this room ahead, but it is puzzling. I could hear a woman crying from down the hall. Bu this was a men's prison from what I have read. I don't know if the spirit might be a past explorer or maybe the prison laundress if they were so bold as to allow a woman to work inside. In any case there are bones inside and a fair number of sharp implements that I am rather hoping to not see flying around once we disturb her."
Trevor looks at Aldous with what could be mistaken for murder in his eyes.
Great... Why is he telling me all this?!?
"Flying metal... Sure thing!"
He steps in the room, ready to dodge flying objects, What did he say about a woman? and tries to lift the cloth with his axe to reveal the bones.
Trevor finds the door Aldous points out to be stuck fast and locked, though the door itself is quite weathered... begging the question of how Aldous knows what's inside.
Aldous notes the look of impatience on Trevor's young face and sighs. just before the boy goes to break down the door he grabs him by the shoulders to stare in his eyes while trying to explain a little more. His smile is a little too forced, eyes red rimmed, gaze intense. "The prisoners are trying to kill us, yes? I cannot imagine a scenario where a woman was a prisoner here. Therefore, it is my hope that she will not try to kill us. If that is the case, whether explorer or laundress, she may be willing to help us in exchange for help passing on or merely to spite the prisoners who may have killed her. Do NOT attack her unless she comes after you. ...on second thought if she comes after you get out of there fast. There are too many dangerous things laying around."
Trevor shrugs at Aldous and pushes on the doors, his feet slipping on the floor.
"Some. Help. Please?"
"Trevor, you should have one of the others look at that burn," Luka says, as he lends his shoulder to the door.
"Strong door," Arasmes utters before lending his own, rather sickly and ineffectual shoulder to the effort.
Strength (aiding another):
"Aldous, would you mind putting your teacup down and shove with the rest of us?"
Luka tries the door again.
"I wouldn't dream of getting in the way of the professionals. But tea is a great idea now that you mention it. After this room maybe we can take a moment to refresh."
After several false starts, Arasmes rolls up his sleeves and gives the door a good shove. For a second, it doesn't budge... until the whole door topples over and shatters on the floor, leaving a fragment of wood and a rusted solid lock hanging from the doorframe.
Within the large chamber are several work benches. The floor is strewn with scissors, sewing needles, spools of thread, awls and other tools. In a corner is a pile of blue fabric. When Trevor goes over to prod the moldering fabric, a blue light flashes. A beautiful young woman in a lovely blue dress rises from the pile. Her blue hair is stirred in an unseen, unfelt wind; even the tears falling from her pale blue eyes are blue. She looks at you all with undisguised hope.
"Thank Desna! You're the new guards from town, aren't you? Those cowards locked me in here when the riot started!", she asks, small clouds of smoke following the words from her lips.
Trevor's face drains of its blood as he witnesses the apparition. It was one thing to hear voices, another to feel cold or heat, even flying appliances he could somewhat stomach, but this... This was a person, with a mind and a will it seemed, locked in an antechamber to the Afterlife, as if gravity had ceased and robbed a falling man of its death, leaving him in midair, floating.
Rafan, did you make it?
Luka stands stunned as the apparition forms, and then speaks. After a moment, in a whisper, he says, "Talk to her Trevor. Tell her who we are."
Arasmes walks to the front of the party, once again seeming to possess some sort of unnatural charisma.
"No ma'am, I fear we are not the new guards. The riot and fire were years ago. A friend of ours was killed her a few days ago and we have been investigating his death. I fear that we have discovered that this place has been disturbed, intentionally it appears, and malevolent spirit seems to be stalking Harrowstone and, we fear, may threaten the town. Perhaps you know something of these events?"
Momentarily distracted by the blue fabric Aldous frowns and pulls the scrollcase out of his bag. He uncaps the top and pulls out the scrap salvaged from the warden's house, holds it up, looks at the pile int he corner and back again trying to make a match.
Arasmes walks to the front of the party, once again seeming to possess some sort of unnatural charisma.
"No ma'am, I fear we are not the new guards. The riot and fire were years ago. A friend of ours was killed her a few days ago and we have been investigating his death. I fear that we have discovered that this place has been disturbed, intentionally it appears, and malevolent spirit seems to be stalking Harrowstone and, we fear, may threaten the town. Perhaps you know something of these events?"
"Oh, yes. Those horrible men and women in their dark robes killed a man here while they were performing some skullduggery on the foundations. It was shortly after that when the storm tore through the prison and I could no longer feel my beloved so far away in the dungeon. Somehow they must have stolen him away! Oh, my love, separated for so long..."
The ghost breathes deeply, speaking again in a calmer voice.
"Since then, the Prisoners grow in rage and power every day. My husband kept them in their place, but now that he is gone it's only a matter of time until I am overwhelmed... and destroyed. If you cannot defeat the Prisoners in time, they will escape and wreak a terrible havoc on Ravengro and beyond. I implore you, you must stop them!"
Momentarily distracted by the blue fabric Aldous frowns and pulls the scrollcase out of his bag. He uncaps the top and pulls out the scrap salvaged from the warden's house, holds it up, looks at the pile int he corner and back again trying to make a match.
It is a similar cut of fabric, though likely of two different dresses.
His armour clanking loudly and his helmet slipping in front of his eyes, Trevor crashes down on one knee and says with passion: "We will stop them Mylady!"
He stays there for a bit, then suddenly flushes as he realizes he just swore to a ghost. A ghost! How do you know it's a good ghost Trev? Wake up!
He lifts his helmet and asks his Lady to give him the sight.
"What can we do, ma'am, to stop these prisoners? You said that your husband was keeping them in check. How did he do that?"
Trevor:
"Please, stand up, Mr. Chivalry. I am no Lady.", she says as Trevor takes a knee.
The woman knots her blue-tinged hands.
"My husband was the Warden. Even after the fire, he held his post. But with him gone, I must hold them back... and I lack his authority. They wear away at me; it is only a matter of time until they have free reign at this rate. You must defeat each Prisoner, that I may suppress their influence. If you find my husband's badge of office in the dungeons below and bring it to me, I may be able to banish them when I am invested with his authority."
Luka's head nods back and forth before he steps forward and asks, "My Lady, we will do what we can to find your good husband's badge, but can you tell us more of those in the dark robes? Are they still here? Do you know more of what they are doing?"
"My name is Vesorianna, I am Warden Hawkren's wife. It was many days ago that I saw their leader- a thin, grey skinned man wearing a breastplate of bones, his black staff bearing a skull gagged with a black cloth on the top- murder your friend with a spell and then smash his face with a fallen gargoyle. Later that night, they finished whatever ritual they had started. A storm to chill the soul swept through the prison and I felt as though my very being was about to be torn apart... and then it ended. I could feel my husband's presence no longer and the men in black robes departed shortly after... somehow they abducted my husband from his post."
"Can you tell us anything more about these prisoners. I fear that Harrowstone is a dangerous place for us. Perhaps you know where these prisoners lurk, or the dangers they might pose to us."
"I am sorry.",she says,"I do not know what you will face because I cannot leave this room, the place of my... of my..."
Vesorianna trails off for a moment, seemingly lost.
"I only witnessed your friend's murder because I can see beyond this wall because of my... condition. I can feel five distinct personalities attempting to weaken me- especially the Splatter Man. But I know not where they can be found- perhaps in their cells above us or below in the dungeons and oubliettes. I remember... I remember that Father Charlatan was kept in the low-risk cells during his confinement. You may find him upstairs."
Aldous shuffles uneasily and nudges Trevor, "Did she just say we had to confront all five of the most twisted prisoners locked up here? Because our track record with average inmate is not so hot right now."
"I say we look for the Warden's badge," Luka volunteers. "She may well be more effective against these spirits then we have proven to be, so far."
"Yes! And we show those ghosts what we're made of... REAL STUFF!" He slams his fist on his metal chest as he says those words proudly, seemingly finding some short term bravado.
He motions for the group to move forward. "Finding that badge... That means downstairs, right..?" He pales a little and moves towards the hallway, shoulders dropping slightly.
"We'll do what we can, Ma'am," Arasmes says as he follows the party out of the room. Once the party has exited the room, Arasmes begins: "Perhaps we should think a bit about strategy against these spirits. I fear that hitting them with weapons may not be the most productive approach. But we may have more success with more spiritual weapons. We might consider arming ourselves with holy water. Maybe the power of Pharasma or Iomedae will harm these spirits."
"I'm open to any suggestions, although the last one just seemed to have to run it's course, much to Trevor's misfortune. Anyway, do we really need to leave to obtain some holy water, and come back again? If we do that, we may as well return with a cleric. But we're here, now, and I suggest we press on as best we can."
"Isn't that what I kept saying from the beginning? I have no holy water, but we do have those vials that can suck spirits in, no? I also have enchanted arrows that can strike the incorporeal spirits. Anyone has holy water?"
Trevor's feet remind him he hasn't yet broken his new boots: "I really don't think we have to back in town again..."
"Then let's just find the way downstairs," Luka says.
Trevor turns around to make sure the others are not far behind. "Where would we find the warden's keys? Downstair also? Okay, back to the stairs. Aldous, you mentioned it was safe now, right? No more collapse?"
Once in front of the stairs, Trevor sighs and offers: "Well, maybe it's safe, but it leads nowhere... That means it's the hole, no? Where the flying skulls flew out... I have a rope and a hook!"
Trevor will make knots for the rope and fix it with the hook, then asks, before going down: "May I get some light down there?"
As he's about to get down, he suddenly hesitates: "I mean, it's down, right? Who's also going? ... Right after, right? Okay okay! I'm going..."
Arasmes shouts down at Trevor: "Hope you're alright down there. I'd toss you a light, but . . . unfortunately torches are a bit too heavy for me. Perhaps someone has a spell . . ." Seeing noone else racing to climb down the rope, Arasmes follows Trevor's lead. "Can't leave the brave lad to face whatever is down there alone, you know what I mean?"
"Hold on, Trevor," Luka says, "I'll create some light for you. With that, Luka utters a phrase and touches his dagger, causing it to emit a bright light, which he then drops into the hole, being sure not to hit the young warrior. Once done, Luka follows Arasmes down the rope.
climb
You descend about twenty feet through the ragged hole in the floor, the sounds of your exertion echoing through the cavernous chamber along with the constant drip of water from above.
Landing in the cavernous chamber, you can see by Luka's cold magical light that it may once have been an underground cellblock, long since collapsed. The crumbled walls are thick with mold and stained with soot, heaps of fallen stones and charred wooden beams line the area. Water drips and seeps along the walls, collecting in a dark pool in the center of the room. To the north, the twisted remains of a wood and iron lift lie in a heap at the shallow end of the pool. To the west, a partially blocked opening seems to widen into a dark but stable tunnel.
When your feet touch the floor, a cacophonous and agonized chorus of screams and coughs echo throughout the chamber. The sound fills your ears, the volume rising and filling the large room. You're walled in by the noise, even covering your ears does little to protect you... until it stops, and the room is still once more.
For a long moment, Trevor is on the verge of collapsing from pain, trying desperately to force his right hand from his ear to the haft of his axe, but to no avail. Finally, he seems to relax somehow, takes a moment to replace his big helmet and get a view of the room.
Sounds promising...
He gets his axe and javelin ready, waits another moment, then signals the others to climb down as he stays alert.
Come on, they'll get here and you won't be alone... What's taking them so long?
Luka is startled by the rising cacaphony, trying to peer into the hole to see what is going on, and is equally started at how quickly it stops. As soon as Arasmes is down, he follows as questions Trevor as to anything he might have seen. When the young warrior indicates there was nothing visible, he simply nods, and starts to look around for anything unusual.
Perception