Eldon sighs deeply. "Dear Lena... the man just told you exactly that..."
Eldon takes a moment to think of what he knows about noteworthy blind people. He remembers overhearing some talk when the group travelled with the Crooked Kin - that of a blind hermit named Karl who was astonishingly self-sufficient, living on his own on a shack by the Lesser Moutray River, not a half hour from Lepidstadt.
"Ah, yes... Karl. There's a blind hermit with that name, he lives in a shack by the Lesser Moutray River. It's but half an hour from Lepidstadt."
Eldon heads for the door. "Let us go."
|
Lena's eyes narrow. the man did didn't he. I overlooked that. Funny that the man knows about the witness and yet neglected to get an address. One would have thought that the man might have done that. lena snaps her fingers with a loud snap, a flame flashing as she did so.
She turns, dismissing the lawyer from her thoughts.
so since we have to find this witness ourselves, does anyone have any ideas?
Eldon sighs again as he waits at the door. "Dear Lena... I just told you exactly that..."
Eldon takes a moment to think of what he knows about noteworthy blind people.
Wren looks at 'Lena, worried.
That one seems quite confused.
"Does anyone think it odd that a blind man might be a prime witness? If he is truly blind, then his ability to name Brodur as the villain is severely hampered," Wren notes dryly.
She follows Eldon to where the man might be found and interviewed.
Arval shrugs as everyone is talking through each other.
"I'll follow you lot."
"Bah! I' be th' same as before. Th' man saw a large thing he dinnae understand tha' attacked. He jest associated i' with th' stories o' Brodur...I mean Bigguns, an' assumed tha' he were th' one attackin'. Likely he were blinded in th' fire, and there ain't no way he ken be indentifyin' anyone, other than vague descriptions. People hear an' see wha' they want, no matter th' truth o' th' matter. Still, le's be off t' talk with 'im. Might ge' a clue how t' prove Bigguns' innocence, even if th' man himself is a dead end."
The group make their way eastwards out of Lepidstadt, the swift-flowing river thankfully ensuring fewer biting insects than they've dealt with elsewhere thanks to the incredible size of the Dippelmere Swamp.
After around an hour's walking, they come across a well-maintained one-room shack that matches the directions Eldon remembered from the Crooked Kin. It sits somewhat charmingly at an angle on a rocky outcropping by the river bank. A small garden grows beside the shack as well as a neat pile of chopped wood.
Kawrock approachs the door and gives a friendly knock. "Probably best if Eldon does all the talking." He says as he steps aside for the Halfling to introduce them.
Arval calls as they arrive at the shack.
"EHH?! WHOSTHERE?! One moment one moment..."
You hear some movement from inside the house, and the sound of a bar being lifted. The door swings open to reveal a sturdy-looking man whose good looks have been ruined by horrible facial scarring that has taken his eyes. He appears to be in late middle age, his black hair quite greyed.
"Whassthat, visitors? Well what brings you to see old Karl here?"
His tone is congenial and pleasant.
Eldon clears his throat as he steps up. "Good day, Karl. My name's Eldon Appleton. Yes, indeed, the famous and incredibly epic storyteller!"
Eldon gives Karl a moment to let it all sink in. After all, it's not every day that you're visited by the best storyteller Golarion has ever known.
"Do you mind if I, and my assistants, come inside for a conversation about some observations you've made recently?" Eldon continues a couple of second later. "It concerns Bigguns, the one publicly known as the 'Beast'."
Wren moves up to greet Karl, her elven eyes looking the man up and down.
"Oh hi, dearie, my name is Wren. Like the bird," Wren makes her introduction. "Can you tell us about the time you saw the Beast? What happened?"
Karl beams delightedly.
"Come in! Come in! Break bread with me, I haven't had visitors in a while. I have just the thing for the occasion. The fire that took my eyes isn't a nice story - some proper Chelaxian red will make it all better. Please - I insist."
Delightedly, he throws his door open reveal a tidy interior with a merry hearth going. With his cane tapping his way in front of him, he finds a ring on the ground, and pulls it to reveal a trapdoor to a root cellar. He leans down with his arm, and produces a bottle of wine. With a sweeping gesture, he points to a table.
"I hear... what, five of you? Six? And well met Eldon and Wren and the rest of you. Please, have a seat and let me know what questions you have."
He continues to tap his way around the shack, and produces a pat of butter and a loaf of the dark bread favoured in Lepidstadt. He finally settles down and gestures for the rest of you to do the same.
"Now, what do you want to know about the Beast?"
"Yer hospitality be welcome. Allow us t' do th' same wit' some fine dwarven whiskey an' some cheese I be buyin' back in Lepidstadt. Me name's Whiskeyjack, an' th' rest be Arval, Vladlenda, an' Kawrock. We wain't be talkin' near as much as th' other two, but be listenin' a might bi' more."
"Th' questions we have involve th' night th' Santuary burned, an' migh' best be left until after th' meal."
Arval points his thumb at his chest as Whiskey calls his name.
"Them lot will be doing the talking. I'm here for... Other things?"
Arval says as he breaks some bread and stuffs his mouth, bread crumbs flying all over the table as he says his last sentence.
Kawrock looks the man up and down as he moves about without his sight. "Strange, you let people suffer with such an affliction. In my clan we purge them with fire so they can be born anew with their sight."
Wren sits back, listening, only mostly coughing up her tea at Kawrock's last outburst.
Karl's head pops up curiously and he lets out a nervous laugh.
"Now mind your manners there, I don't know yer accent but 'round these parts if you're a guest you speak kindly of your host. And I already was purged with fire, just didn't do the whole job."
He does grin at Whiskeyjack, his hand fumbling over the table until he gets his hands on the whiskey.
"Apology accepted," he takes a swallow and nods slowly. "Damn. Ain't ever had nice whiskey before."
Soon the wine is poured with only a couple of drops spilled and there's plenty of bread and cheese on the table for the group to eat. After a while he drains his glass and moves his head around slowly.
"Ask your questions, I don't mind talking about it."
"Could you recount all that's happened the day you lost your sight?" Eldon asks Karl, then takes a sip from the wine.
"It would help if you'd start at the beginning, and go over anything that drew your attention that day. Once you get to the part where the focus lies, where everything went horribly wrong, it'd help if you'd go over the details. If I have any questions, I'll ask them at the end. A proper storyteller knows to not interrupt another person's story."
Wren sits and listens.
Arval keeps munching on his bread, listening with great interest.
Kawrock takes a chunk of bread and takes a few pecks at it, completely oblivious to anything offensive he may or may not have said. "This is good bread, thank you for sharing."
He takes a slurp of wine, leaning back.
"Well, not sure how much you knows about Sanctuary. It was run by the brilliant Doctor Brada, who I helped. Brada was concerned with madness, deformity, 'grostesqueries of the mind and body' as he said to me. His own uncle was burned by a mob for his deformities and it consumed the good Doctor. I was his assistant, a good job if stressful and difficult. The patients often did not know what was best for them, and required a stern will to manage."
Karl passes a hand over his scarred features.
"We carried on happily enough, although I'll admit the Doctor's treatments were inventive, but did not usually work. Patients perished, and he grew frustrated. He began to receive strange body parts and cut me out of experiments - I was hurt, but I had my job to do and I'm loyal if anything. He became more and more distant and then the fire. Four months ago."
Karl takes a large gulp of wine, obviously a little upset as he speaks.
"I was tending to Mister Relkion - a poor demented man with huge tumours all over his face when I smelled the smoke. I let Relkion loose to fend for himself and rushed to the Doctor's quarters. He was unconscious from the smoke by that point. I tried to drag his body out by the fire overcame me. Last thing I saw was this huge creature escaping. I knew the legends well enough, that creature was the Beast of Lepidstadt, sure as I am alive. Ain't ever seen something like it, and it's the last thing I saw."
"Ye say the Beast did this, bu' wah' if'n we were t' be tellin' ye tha' there be more'n one? We found evidence, good enough fer a jury, tha' a shapeshifter's been abou' in these parts, killin' folks an' takin' their bodies fer unspeakable experiments. Grine were 'is name, an' 'e had a closet full o' skins wha' 'e used fer t' trick people int' thinkin' others were behind 'is mad killin's. The so-called Beast o' Lepidstadt were framed by this creature fer some murders. Met 'im I have. He ain't go' th' hear' fer killin'. Me guess is tha' this shapeshifter Grine were likely involved here. Specially if'n yer master were dealin' in body parts an' the like. No disrespect intended."
Karl looks sharply in Whiskeyjack's direction.
"I start to see why you're talking to me. Well, I appreciate the respect there, and the whiskey - heh - two things jump out at me. First... more than one Beast makes good sense considering all the malevolence and wrongdoings attributed to that creature. I saw some big nasty-looking bastard running out of a fire before I went blind, if there's more than one well I can accept that. Secondly, that Grine name is familiar. Sure I've seen or heared it before."
Wren nods, listening and thinking about her own questions.
"Cannot your eyesight not be fixed? Have you prayed for healing?" Wren asks. "I, for one, would like you to see the Beast to confirm that's what you saw."
Karl lets out a bitter laugh.
"Oh yeah, I prayed to every God I could think of, even the bad ones. They ain't much for caring 'bout a poor man's eyes. If it was so easy to just pray there'd be no blind people anywhere."
"Grine worked in a place called Vorkstag and Grine's. Tha' name ring familiar? Mebbe this here Grine or Vorkstag were th' ones makin' th' mischief around here. Bigguns - tha's th' gentle giant o' Lepidstadt's name - certainly don't have th' heart fer tha' kind o' work."
"As fer healin' yer blindness, no I be thinkin' yer correct on tha' one. Divine powers ken be healin' lot's o' wounds, but the marks remain. I ain't no missionary, an' Angradd's th' god o' battle, not some pansy elf god o' flowers or such, bu' I be thinkin' tha' if'n there were no permanent hurts in th' world, we'd all be worse off. Light needs darkness to shine, an' all tha' rubbish. Still, when ye be th' one sufferin' fer this world's benefit, i' likely don't seem right or fair."
"If'n ye want, I ken be lookin' int' what i' be takin' t' get yer sight back. I' may not be in yer means - sometimes th' gods ask fer more'n we be willing to pay - bu' I ken be lookin'. Bu' only if'n ye be wantin' me to."
"Now, as much as th' talk's been good, an' th' bread too, we only have tonight t' be investigatin' th' fire an' such. Anythin' else ye ken think of tha' we should know? If no', then we should be headin' to the Santuary place t' be lookin' fer any more clues. An' I hope tha' you'll be willin' t' come t' the courthouse t' tell yer story, an' describe every detail wha' you remember. Me guess is tha' it'll match the big shambling skin wha' we found in th' skin changer's cabinet."
Karl nods slowly as Whiskeyjack speaks.
"Aye, aye. I've been summoned as a witness no matter what, you've heard the story I'm telling tomorrow. As for the power of the Gods, well if such magic exists you're right I'm interested. Being the blind man who can live on his own is all well and good, but I'm not so proud as to not want my eyes back. The Temples don't give their blessing for free though, but that gives me some hope."
He listens as Whiskeyjack continues.
"I don't think so. I don't think anyone has been back to Sanctuary since the fire. You let me know how things go, right?"
Whiskeyjack reached out and clasped the arm of the blind man. "We'll be lettin' ye know. An' we'll be seein ye tomorrow a' th' trial, no doubt. Keep th' whiskey. I ken always be gettin' more." Whiskeyjack looked around at his companions and hoisted his pack from the floor. "Best we be off, if'n we're t' be investigatin' th' Sanctuary afore night falls in full."
Kawrock gets up to follow Whiskeyjack but pauses a moment. "Before we go is there anything you can tell us about Sanctuary? Like where Doctor Barada did most of his work. Perhaps a special or secret lab that may be hidden in the ruins."
Wren pauses her own leaving to wait for the answer to Kawrock's question. While she waits, she hand pecks the crumbs from Arval's eating into her mouth.
"Yes, dearie, anything you can tell us would be helpful."
Eldon stands up and walks over to Karl. "Let me try something, sir. I can use some of the same healing powers as clerics, except I don't charge ridiculous prices."
He places a hand on one of Karl's eyes and focuses healing power into that specific eye.
"Do you notice any difference?" Eldon asks as he inspects the eye he tried to heal.
Some scrapes and cuts heal up on Karl, but aside from that, nothing else happens. More powerful magic would be required to restore this man's eyesight.
Karl shrugs helplessly and Eldon, and takes a moment to answer the other questions.
"I saw a big bastard with a kind of weird, shuffly walk. To be honest, I didn't see much of it, and it was sorta silhouetted against the flames. Wouldn't be able to identify a scar or nothing. Huge, hulking thing shaped like a man but uh, different. Bulkier and a little deformed. As for Sanctuary, I can't imagine too much is left of it, that was one hell of a fire. That said, Doctor Brada started locking himself off in the cellar a lot, you'd find anything you can there."
"Oh...the cellar," Wren repeats the pertinent information. "Oh, thank you, dearie. You've been a help. And we'll surely see you tomorrow at the trial. And maybe we'll see to your eyes, if we can."
Wren makes her way to leave. She's ready to go to the Sanctuary.
"Maybe this sanctuary will turn into one for the birds, huh?" Wren chitters hopefully to herself.
Seeing that the conversation is at an end Arval grabs a last piece of bread and stands. He exits the room and is ready to proceed.
"See ya tomorrow!"
The group completes their journey to Sanctuary, a scant three miles from Lepidstadt. It is situated on Karb Isle, which is not an island at all but an isthum with a direct connection to the land. The group head out on the isthum and take in the ruins.
The sad remains of a broken building lie on a spur of land jutting into the river. The burnt timbers of a large house sag into the undergrowth of nettles and thistles. Nature is taking back this charred ruin, as if trying to erase dark memories. Nearby, a small cluster of gravestones jut from the weeds.
Kawrock makes his way toward the ruins, keeping an eye out for anything dangerous.
Eldon carefully follows after Kawrock and takes his time to take in his surroundings.
"I can see why they built it here, it's a lovely location. It reminds me of the time I traveled to a harbor city that was built on an ishtum much larger than this one. I suggested they'd made a canal through the city, to expend trade, which they of course did. My reputation preceded me, you see, and they immediately saw the wisdom in my words. I even helped them design a bridge that now spans that same canal, using my unlimited knowledge of epic engineering. It was named after me; Eldon Appleton The Most Epic Storyteller Bridge."
Wren tags along with Eldon and Kawrock, taking advantage of Eldon's quiet to prattle about all sorts of things.
"Oh, gravestones! I saw more than a few gravestones in my day...blahblahblah...one male and one female...blahblahblah...right on top of the gates...blahblahblah...pidgeons didn't quite fit so...blahblahblah...hammered with his dinglehammer...blahblahblah...summoning...blahblahblah...long lines of onlookers."
Eldon scrapes his throat. "Yes, yes I see. There were also pigeons on Eldon Appleton The Most Epic Storyteller Bridge, but I solved that problem. You see, all you have to do to scare of pigeons is place a neat trail of bread crumbs that leads them into the traps. The kind of trap used was, of course, of my own design. I named it the Eldon Appleton The Most Epic Storyteller's Epicly Effective Pigeon Trap."
He scrapes his throat and goes into a lengthy and thoroughly confusing explanation of how the trap works. He then continues to explain how the trap's also effective for capturing polar bears, or pretty much any other kind of creature. "They could even be used for dragons. However, it may be required that I'm around to guide fabrication and setting the trap. It's a very complex trap, you see, and not everyone is skilled enough to produce and set it."
Kawrock turns around and glares at Eldon and Wren. "Be quiet both of you. This place has been aboandon for some time now. There is no telling what could have taken up resedence here. So mouths shut, eyes and ears open."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Whiskeyjack let Eldon adn Wren warble on without interruption, largely because he didn't know how to stop them from talking without cutting off their heads. Even that might not work if there was a stiff breeze blowing. As the ruins of Sanctuary came in sight, though, he sharpeend his gaze and waved at them to be quiet. Was that something int he bushes over there? He waved again, just as Kawrock spoke up and told the yapping pair off.