A minute after Autumn knocks, a short old woman with mousy hair opens the door. She has a baby cradled in one arm and frowns upon seeing you "Hello?" As she speaks she looks you up and down.
San shrugs, a bit sad at Autumn's lack of curiosity for the unknown. Well... unknown ruins at least. I'm sure she's plenty interested in secrets unknown to her.
He leaves her to make nice with whichever person happens to be at the Froderson house as he makes his way down the path toward the spires.
Well, I’ll come along in case there is something obviously arcane to inspect.
He trudges along behind San expecting the clouds to burst open again at any moment.
Let’s hope she’s more receptive than her husband. With a shy smile, Autumn curtsies politely and responds “Hello, please pardon the intrusion,” she bows her head in apology, “but I was wondering if you could help me find Mara Froderson. Has she returned yet?” Given the old woman’s initial frown, and the way her old man reacted yesterday, the sorceress opts for a direct, conciliatory approach over prolonged flattery. Though surely a quick compliment wouldn’t hurt?
With a pleasant smile she adds “My, what a beautiful baby. And so well behaved! How precious.”
While Autumn speaks with the Frodersons, the rest of you head for the spires known as Rusthenge. You follow the path east out of town, hoping to circle along the peninsula to reach the spires that you can see across the bay. Where the path turns toward Stonehome, you continue straight and then to the right along the shore. This rocky coastline looks lightly traveled, with no clear path to follow, but it's also not particularly rough terrain and you're able to make your way without too much trouble. Not far into your hike Vildran spots a small, natural tunnel carrying an underground stream emerging from the side of a hill and flowing down into the bay . A quick peek into it reveals that it's cramped but just big enough for a person to head inside.
Leaving that aside for now, you hike the rest of the way to the end of the peninsula and find that the bluff housing Rusthenge is currently separated from the mainland by a shallow portion of the bay. Unfortunately, it doesn't looks shallow enough to walk. In the distance, you see the rust-colored spires rising from the hilltop.
Autumn glances around surreptitiously, as if to see if anyone else is observing the conversation, before answering in a low undertone. “Let’s say a friend, for now. May I please come inside where we’ll have some more privacy? I fear Mara—and one of my friends—may be in danger. I’m hoping we can help each other.” There is an urgency in her voice as she again looks about with wary suspicion. She hopes that the cloak and dagger situation she’s manufactured isn’t too much, but if she’s judged matters correctly, it should capitalize on a mother’s natural concern for her daughter.
Vildran stops only for a moment to peer into the tunnel.
I wonder what source feeds this stream. It must come from pretty deep in the ground.
He tries to give just long enough to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the interior, to see anything immediate, before moving on.
--------------------
Then they arrive at the point where the peninsula dips under the bay waters.
Hmm, we can't quite walk across. However, perhaps if we wait until the tide recedes, at roughly...
He thinks on when that might be.
The older woman is caught between her wariness of the stranger at the door and her concern for Mara. Eventually concern wins out and she waves Autumn inside "What do you mean, in danger? She may not have recovered yet, but she's a strong child. She will. I'm sure of it."
---
A peek inside the tunnel with the stream only shows it winding its way into the interior of the hill. It seems narrow but not impassable, and long enough that the light from outside doesn't reveal its full depth.
As for the tides, Vildran finds he's not sure. The tides seem pretty high right now, but he's not able to pinpoint when they'll be low enough to cross. It doesn't seem like it'll be soon.
San scratches at the back of his head, "Hmmm, I guess we didn't plan this out very well. Maybe we can get Art to bring us to the cut off part. Or there's that abandoned fishing hut we saw on the way in... Or we can get muddy and try to squeeze into that tunnel. Maybe it's a good thing Autumn didn't come with us. I'm sure she would veto that idea right away."
Autumn politely wipes her shoes before entering, then gently closes the door once inside. “Thank you. I fear that Stonehome hides a potentially deadly secret—one linked to Mara’s illness—but I don’t know enough yet to guess what. I’m hoping you can help.”
Recognizing that she needs to give a little to gain information in return, she continues quietly, her voice not much more than a whisper. “I’ve come here because of this mystery at Stonehome. From what I’ve learned so far, those who enter do not come out. Do you know of anyone who has?” The sorceress pauses, expecting a negative answer, before continuing. “I have also learned that some of the ill have gone missing—not just in body, but from the minds of those who knew them, as if erased from history itself.”
She pauses again, to give the mother time to absorb this startling information. “I know this sounds hard to believe—honestly, I don’t know if I believe it all myself—but that’s why I need to figure out what’s really happening. Could you please share what happened to your Mara? How and when she fell ill, what her symptoms were, your interactions with the Gorumites—anything and everything that you can remember.”
San eyes the barnacles growing on the rocks, the moss further up shore, and the other signs of the tide and concludes that it would be lowest likely just after dawn or a little after dusk.
---
"A deadly secret in Stonehome? Getting erased from history?" The woman frowns, her worry turning to indignation as Autumn's story grows detail "I don't know what you're trying to get at, but the High Priest Ragnulf has always done well by us. I trust him with my granddaughter entirely. And certainly no one's been going missing. Maybe there's more sick than usual being treated by the acolytes, but it wouldn't be the first time the ill needed to be kept in isolation to protect everyone else."
She takes a deep breath at that thought before looking to Autumn "Now, I don't know how you got these wild ideas, but I recommend you don't go around spreading them. Little Mara has a fever and aches, and she's in the treatment of our local priests. That's all it is. She's certainly not part of this, this, conspiracy you're implying!"
Vildran looks around at the group and frowns. It feels disappointing to take a long walk and have it end this way.
Hrm, yes. I guess we didn't. Well, we could check out that tunnel again. I don't want to walk all of the way to the abandoned fishing hut.
Autumn half-raises both hands in submission as it becomes clear that she has overstepped. “My sincere apologies—I do not know your local priests as well as you do. That is, after all, why I wanted to ask you about this situation first. Thank you very much for setting me straight—I certainly won’t spread this gossip any further.”
She turns, as if about to go, then hesitates. “If I may ask … just to be sure …” she cautiously prefaces her next question “do you have as much faith in all the priests at Stonehome? I imagine High Priest Ragnulf runs a tight ship, but do you trust Sister Vanda and Brother Blanton to care for Mara and the young fisherman Adren as well?”
As far as Autumn can tell, the woman knows both names well and seems confident in her statements.
Autumn nods. “Thank you for your reassurance—it truly sets my mind at ease. It must be that Thassilonian ship that was putting me out of sorts—it just seems out of place here, and from what I’ve heard, it’s just been sitting there. Have you any idea why they’re here, or why they’re lingering so long?”
“Anyway,” she finally excuses herself after the woman responds, “I shan’t take up any more of your time then. Thank you again.” She bids the grandmother goodbye, then walks around the shoreline to catch up with the others.
"Looks like sundown will be the next best time to walk out to the rust spires. We can kill some time exploring in here. San peers into the tunnel like he's going to see anything Vildran didn't. Looking back up he sees Autumn finally catching up. He gives her a wave and gestures to the tunnel. One more thumbs up and he makes his way upstream. "Vildran, can you cast some illumination magic? Just tether it to me if you can."
The older woman shrugs "They've never stayed so long before, at least not like this. Usually they just come bother the High Priest for taxes twice a year and then disappear. Or they come to get repairs for their ships. Either way they leave us well enough alone as soon as they have what they want. I heard the ship this time was carrying some merchant or other. Maybe they're waiting for something." She shakes her head "Whatever it is, I hope they find it soon so they can leave us to our town."
With that, the woman offers her own goodbyes to Autumn and adds "You seem to be inclined to flights of fancy, but I'd be careful what you believe and what you say, alright? Just a bit of advice from an old woman." She sees Autumn off and closes the door behind her.
----
At the tunnel, the sounds of the trickling stream echo off the stone together with your voices. Without light, all you can tell is the tunnel isn't shallow - it proceeds quite some depth into the hill.
“How were the rusty spire things?” Autumn greets San with a mischievous smile and a gentle, jesting tone. “Were they everything you imagined?”
For her own part, she shrugs humbly at the inevitable inquiry about her visit to the Frodersons. “Not much new from Grandma Froderson. She recognized all the names—Mara, Adren, Vanda, Blanton—and thinks quite highly of Ragnulf and the other priests. She doesn’t seem worried about the disease at all. The only other thing I learned is that usually the Thassilonians come for taxes, twice a year, but the gossip is that Meitremar is a merchant this time.”
She looks at the tunnel. “Is this a secret tunnel to Stonehome?” she asks, unable to think of any other reason for being interested in it. “Very well,” she sighs, lighting a torch and handing it to San so that he can lead the way. “And just when my feet are almost dry.”
Vildran smiles warmly at Autumn to greet her return. Given the original group that set out from Sandpoint, splitting for very long feels a little risky. Or maybe he just worries too much.
"Vildran, can you cast some illumination magic? Just tether it to me if you can."
Sure thing!
The tips of his antennae light up a bit as he gesticulates towards San and causes his weapon to light up brightly.
Repeating the procedure he holds up his staff in front of him, setting the top end of it similarly alight. He then turns to the rest of the group and looks at them expectantly for who else might want lights.
“How were the rusty spire things?” Autumn greets San with a mischievous smile and a gentle, jesting tone. “Were they everything you imagined?”
This draws out Vildran's signature sheepish laugh and shy fidgeting, rubbing the back of his neck and his antennae laying down on his head to hide.
Well, we didn't think about the tides. So... we have to go back later. Then at least you'll get to see them too!
He lights up again at the last part.
For her own part, she shrugs humbly at the inevitable inquiry about her visit to the Frodersons. “Not much new from Grandma Froderson. She recognized all the names—Mara, Adren, Vanda, Blanton—and thinks quite highly of Ragnulf and the other priests. She doesn’t seem worried about the disease at all. The only other thing I learned is that usually the Thassilonians come for taxes, twice a year, but the gossip is that Meitremar is a merchant this time.”
Frowning, he asks rhetorically
I wonder what the Gorumites might have done to earn such trust.
She looks at the tunnel. “Is this a secret tunnel to Stonehome?” she asks, unable to think of any other reason for being interested in it. “Very well,” she sighs, lighting a torch and handing it to San so that he can lead the way. “And just when my feet are almost dry.”
That's what we hope, but we have find out for ourselves!
He heads in to follow behind San.
With San in the lead and the rest of you following behind, you sidle your way into the narrow tunnel. Cold water rushes over your feet and soaks into your shoes and boots, but otherwise, the tunnel proves navigable. It stays narrow enough that you remain single file as you hike a few hundred feet through its winding folds. Eventually it begins to widen and the water gets deeper, all the way up to hip height. Thanks to the light from the torch and magic, you're able to spot a few places where it seems exceptionally deep and avoid them.
After several minutes of wading through the icy current, you notice the ceiling rising up ahead and a bore-hole ascending upward. Looking up from beneath it, you can see the cloudy sky above. Based on the distance you traveled, you could be under Stonehome , and from the looks of the opening, you may be at the bottom of the well from which they draw their water. The underground stream continues further northwest. The wall here is rough and has plenty of handholds, but its wet and slick. It would be a challenging climb to scale the wall itself to get up the well.
"Hmmm, It's probably still mid-afternoon. Not the best time to show up unannounced out of the well of a Gorumite fortress... I can try to climb up and peek my head out to make sure if we think it's best."
Vildran shakes his head vigorously “no.”
If this is a well we run a high risk of it being used while we “peek” out of it. We can’t even try this without cover of darkness.
Indeed, San is sure you're under Stonehome right now. When he goes to try to climb up the wall of the cavern and up the well shaft, he finds it as tricky as it looks. The initial ten feet of natural cave wall is damp with moisture, but the last five feet of the well shaft are even worse, with moss and algae along the walls.
Luckily San doesn't lose his grip and fall into the water, but it seems he'll need all his skill to make it up to the top without assistance.
“Heinous,” Autumn curses between chattering teeth. The ice cold water is not helping her mood. At all. Especially since it seems like they can’t even climb up this slippery well. If she’s going to be cold, wet, and miserable, they should at least have something to show for it. “Maybe we should follow Derrol’s advice about climbing down onto the roof instead of climbing up this well. Desna knows we have enough rope.” The shivering sorceress takes a step back towards the exit. “Can we leave now?”
San follows Vildran's advice and doesn't try again. "Sorry to drag you all the way through the tunnel for nothing Autumn. Let's get out of here. Check out the cliff then? Or maybe the tide has gone out enough we can wade to the spires! Our shoes are already wet." San has a big grin looking at Autumn. A little gentle ribbing given her attitude about exploring the underground stream.
“Fine,” Autumn relents with an eye roll. “Let’s just get out of here.”
You wade your way back out through the icy water, emerging into the warmer air outside the tunnel. The look of the tide suggests that it may be possible to wade or swim your way across the to islet holding Rusthenge at this point, but that you're not quite at low tide yet. As a result you head off to the north to first check the cliffs around Stonehome.
Eyeing the rocky terrain surrounding Stonehome from a rise to the south, you can see that the building - fortress really - is nestled in the cleft between two cliffs. The terrain surrounding it from the west, north and east is rocky, but accessible. The problem is the descent from the cliffs down onto the rooftop of the complex's main building. However, with Derrol's earlier advice (and description of the approach) you spot a sloped section of the northern cliff that may be more readily climbable for even the less adept members of your team. Of course, the northern cliff is also fairly exposed to the courtyard below. While most people don't look up, any mistakes or noise from the cliffs might draw attention.
Oh, I dragged us here too. But, it wasn't for nothing! We know where it leads now. We just need better timing. Low tied for the spires. Cover of dark for this passage. Or... maybe the cliff.
Vildran concedes.
"More good information. If using the key doesn't work out, this seems a much better method of entry than the well. Though maybe we can use the well to escape if needed instead."
San seems in his element traipsing across cliff sides and wading through streams. Exploration is in his heart apparently.
“Wonderful,” Autumn grumbles sarcastically. “And maybe those rusty spires will teleport us inside.” The physical exertion of climbing rocky hills while still wet has not helped her mood. “Well, bad things come in threes. Let’s get this over with.” Resigned to her fate, she is ready, and only barely willing, to follow the elves to a dusk-time visit to the spires.
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You turn and head back south along the coast toward the rusty spires in the distance. The sun sits low on the horizon as you look out westward, the clouds overhead having finally thinned enough for it to flood the land with murky orange light. The low tide has exposed the broad mud flat that connects the islet to the mainland. Shallow pools dot the intervening distance, and the occasional crustacean scurries across your path as it seeks more secluded waters.
The hike across is slow, the terrain wet, sandy soil, but after a quarter turn you reach dry ground on Thunderhead Isle. A short hike up through damp grass and stunted trees takes you to the top of the rise where the ruins of Rusthenge await.
At the isle's crown is a broad, flat field, its southern edge dropping away to the waves below, affording a magnificent view of the sea bathed in the evening light, while to the north, a craggy ridge of barren rock blocks the view of Iron Harbor. In a circle just north of the cliff's edge rise seven jagged spires of rusted metal, each reaching over fifty feet into the sky. Within this circle of ancient iron stand seven rock formations that may have at one time been sculptures but now are little more than weathered chunks of stone and piles of rubble. At the center, a seven-sided pit drops a few feet into a heap of boulders, stones, and other scree, among which stubborn shoots of grass or small shrubs grow fitfully.
A fifteen-foot-by-twenty-foot canvas tent has been erected between two of the metal spires on the western side. Nearby is a sizable wooden crate, its east side open to reveal an interior strewn with red-stained straw. Freshly dug channels through the thin soil connect two of the smaller stone sculptures and the pit at the center—these channels appear to have been soaked in blood.
An unsettling aura seems to emanate from the whole scene, manifesting as a queasiness in the stomach and a sense of vertigo. It only grows stronger as you get closer to the circle of spires.
Vildran laughs nervously as Autumn's mood worsens.
Perhaps the sunset will look nice, and after the moon will be out and it will be a lovely, well-lit night. Our boots will dry out again! And the spires won't be haunted or troubled at all!
He looks down slightly and winces to himself.
--------------------
He slowly approaches the formation, stopping to look up at the tips of the spires and admire the whole arrangement.
The tent, trenches, and unpleasant odor draw a deep frown and a cautious look.
Will you reveal your purpose to us today?
He quietly begins his customary arcane scan of the spires, and then the seven formations that may have been statues.
San is in a good mood despite others not enjoying exploring as much as he is. He watches the crustaceans suspiciously, their last interaction with one was not pleasant.
Finally arriving at the spires, he matches Vildran's admiration. Taking in the rest of the scene, he's a little disappointed it seems this isn't the carefree exploration he was hoping for. "Were there sacrifices being made here? And why between the stones..." Bow in hand, he approaches the tent checking around for signs that whoever dug and used these trenches are still here.
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“This is so heinous,” Autumn mutters nervously, wincing as she clutches her stomach. “Elsie wasn’t kidding about the nausea.” Unlike the others, she moves no closer to the eerie monument; indeed, she takes several steps back.
“Feeding blood to this thing is not a good sign. Some sort of ritual, I’m sure.” She glances down at the ground around her, wondering who might have come out here. “I’ll just stay back here and admire the beautiful sunset while you explore these ruins that aren’t haunted or troubled at all.”
Searching around, both Autumn and San see plenty of evidence that humanoids were here as recently as today. Bootprints can be seen all over the site, pressed into the damp earth and patches of muddy ground that are the result of today's rains. Furthermore, San, who's a little closer, can see that the tent looks to be relatively newly placed based on how unweathered it looks. Most likely it's had less than a week's exposure to the elements. The bootprints are thickest near the tent, and San spots the remains of a relatively recent campfire just beyond it.
Autumn isn't sure what kind of ritual this may be.
The sun dips just below the horizon and a distinct gloom falls across the spires.
Vildran’s energy visibly reduces once he enters the circle. He plods along gingerly and keeps stopping to gather himself. One hand unconsciously rests on his stomach in a futile attempt to comfort it.
Whoa…
The only thing left is to peek into the pit and maybe the tent and then they can get out of here.
He turns to the rest of the party and holds up one finger, suggesting Just a moment.
He walks towards the pit to look in. If it makes him feel even worse he’ll back away and exit the circle.
“Are you okay?” Autumn whispers anxiously to the wizard through her messaging spell. For a moment she’s about to suggest that they all turn back immediately, but then she notices that San seems entirely unaffected by whatever is causing Vildran’s discomfort.
“What do you see?” she whispers to San in turn. “There were people here today,” she shares, noting the footprints in the newly wet ground. Somehow the recent evidence of other people gives her courage—she might blanch before ancient ruins suffused with an eerily inexplicable aura, but she has plenty of experience dealing with people. And the most likely spot for a person is the tent—after all, why erect a tent unless you plan on sheltering within it?
With cautious steps she stealthily circles around the northern edge of the ruins, taking care to remain outside the ring of rusty spires. Pausing behind the cover of a bush, she beckons to Sidonie and Bastiano to follow—she certainly doesn’t want to do this alone—while scanning the area for any signs that someone might still be here.
San shakes his head as Vildran starts showing signs of what Elsie was warning about. An advantage of 'field research' I guess. He whispers to the wizard, "You ok Vildran? Please don't fall in..." He gives the other elf time for his investigation before trying to follow the boot prints away from the tent/campfire area. "Some one... or multiple someones were here recently. Nobody passed us though. I wonder how they got here."
Vildran feels pretty nauseated as he peers into the pit, but no worse than anywhere else in the circle of spires. The interior of the pit only descends a few feet before it is filled in with rocky debris - weathered chunks of stone, loose scree, and a few scraggly weeds growing from the gaps. Vildran can see where rivulets of dried blood must have run down into the pit, but there's no sign of any pooling or accumulation.
While Autumn and the others are a little too far away to hear over the churning of the surf, Vildran and San both faintly hear several voices in conversation. They're coming from the tent, but interestingly, they sound distant and echo-y. You can just barely make out that the speech sounds Thassilonian, but its still too distant to make out the words.
With still no outward sign of danger—besides the unsettling aura that has discomfited Vildran—Autumn slowly creeps forward, leading her trio closer to the tent. Hiding behind one of the massive spires she pauses, watching and listening for any sign of life from the tent.
See Autumn's advance, Vildran skulks as quietly as he can behind Autumn. It is not his forte.
The voices are getting clearer. Accompanying them you can hear a strange, echoing rustling. It seems the owners of the voices are on their way from somehow far inside the tent to much closer to the entrance and will exit soon.
"The lost VIP from the ship? That doesn't add up..." To at least give Diplomacy a chance, San doesn't hide, but he also doesn't put away the bow.
As the voices sound close to exiting the tent, Autumn instinctively hides, pressing up close against the rusty spire so that the monolith lies between her and the entrance to the tent. With ears and eyes on alert, she waits with bated breath.
Vildran does not hide, but he does stay behind San with respect to the tent. He is still feeling a little under right now...
Two human men with shaved heads and loose-fitting robes emerge from the tent, one holding the leash for the creature that follows after them. The beast is canine but strikingly peculiar, with six legs and a lean, sickly looking frame. Bulbous sacs grow along its sides and a long fungal stalk grows from its back. A long, low, continuous rustling emits from the beast, even while it stands still.
The first man that emerged is also the first to notice the two of you next to the pit. His eyes widen first before he scowls "You're not locals... they know better than to come to this place. Lay down your weapons, then come forth."
San smiles and waves at the men, "I can appreciate the abundance of caution about wanting us to put down our weapons but, ah... no thank you." In Thassalonian, "We know you aren't locals either." He gives them a look to guage their reaction before continuing in common, "We're just trying to explore a bit hopefully find our friend. What are you all doing out here?"
Autumn dares a quick peek at the trio but otherwise remains quietly hidden.
Given the tenseness of the situation Vildran doesn't add anything for now. He's very wary of the six-legged "dog."