2 Arodus

There was a niggling detail about the paintings we retrieved earlier that had been tickling the back of my mind, and I finally figured out what it was.  One of the well-preserved ones (frankly, maybe the only well preserved one) had a signature on it that matched Alak’s last name.  We’d inadvertently found another of Alak’s heirlooms.  We agreed to give it to him when we weren’t in the middle of something else (like removing non-residents) and he again seemed grateful at the offer.

Meanwhile, Gath was on a search-and-destroy mission, and after listening at the east door, he opened it … only to find another boggard waiting for someone to do just that.  Gath took a nasty smack from a morningstar before the boggard gave out a loud CROOAK that startled me momentarily.  However, we quickly converged on it and killed it for its trouble.

But that wasn’t the end of it.  There were noises from the next room over, so I quickly entered the room and found … two little ape-like creatures babbling at me in some kind of ape-speak.  Liberté paused and then gestured with his hands to hold back.  “They’re speaking Abyssal,” he said.  “And …” he looked at me a little surprised. “They’re surrendering.”

Their names were Skort and Venak, and yes they had been part of the Cinderclaws.  Conscripted, to hear them tell it. But they wanted out.

Liberté said they were Charowka, whatever that is.   I didn’t trust them, but I seemed to be the only one with that opinion.  They just wanted to go back where they came from, but the magic to do that was not theirs. A priest named Rank Marshmallow – sorry, Mallowrank I think. Using Liberté as a translator was helpful but also frustrating.  How do I know if he’s translating or even pronouncing things correctly?   oh well.

Anyway they agreed to stay inconspicuously outside until we found Mallowrank and either learned the secret of sending them home, or convinced Mallowhead to do it himself.  Mellowhead apparently worships some dragon named DaHock. Skort and Venak said the magic portal was below us and now inaccessible because of the collapsed stairs.

They also mentioned more than once the creature that the goblins had nicknamed Big Bumble and which the goblins had sadly decided was too dangerous to keep around.  Skort and Venak also confirmed the creature was dangerous.  Given that we knew this to be a young bear, I’m not surprised.

I don’t remember if it was Gath or Aemi who suggested we release the bear back to the wild, but via one or more rooms that still contained live Cinderclaws.  The idea was that with just a little bit of guidance, the bear would, uh, help clear the room(s) as it exited the citadel.

It did exactly that; even better, it died in the attempt.  (I’ll admit to some concern that such a dangerous beast would end up living too close to Breachill.)  We had the forethought to post some watchers along the way in case either the bear or the Cinderclaws went off course.  Qantrip found one staggering boggard had escaped the bear, but a brief encounter with Kyira’s sword made that a hollow victory.

The room that held the pieces of cultist (the bear was somewhat indiscriminate) also held a few bits of value – a tanglefoot bag here, a vial of alchemical fire there.  We did find a morningstar, and I considered a moment before taking custody of it.  Sometimes a sword just isn’t the right tool; a morningstar is much more effective against foes like skeletons with visual gaps in their bodies and brittle bones as their foundation.

Slowly, we were cleaning up the citadel.  And in the back of our minds the idea was firmly planted that this would eventually be ours, if we but found the deed.  Having dealt with both the cultists and the bear, our checklist was getting shorter.

We knew of the one room with the bewitched doll or puppet, but there were still a few others to look over before the grounds could be declared safe for goblins.  Fresh on the heels of arranging for the bear to kill the cultists, several thought it might be a good idea to lure or direct the doll into the tombs and let the undead there kill it.  A small part of me wondered if they were not in fact kindred spirits but I’ll admit I also got caught up in the excitement of setting up these virtual dominoes, kicking over the first one, and watching everything fall into place.

Didn’t quite go to plan.

We lured the doll out, yes.  It was still fixated on our taking it with us, yes.  But then it spotted Qantrip in the shadows, still wearing that Hellknight Novice Badge that seemed to placate the skeletons.  It did not placate the doll; instead, it lunged for Trip.  Long story short, we ended up battling it right there in the hallway, and Alak himself, ironically, took out the doll that was yelling at him to take it along.

He theorized it may have been a created companion gone badly and yes, probably was intentionally left behind because of its creepy behavior.

Other than the skeletons in the tombs, and a couple of rooms beyond, our task was nearly done. (That seems so understated when said out loud.  “Except for the skeletal undead, everything was fine.”)  Well, and the gelatinous cube. In any case, we could now inspect “the doll room” and move on to the “tomb rooms”.

The doll room looked like it may have been a planning room in its day, but this was not its day.  A couple of boggard bodies lay here and, scattered about the room, we eventually found about 35 little (maybe hand-sized) figures of Hellknights in various armors and with various weapons.  Alak did not recognize any of them specifically, so perhaps these were just markers used when planning out strategies.  Liberté didn’t think they had any intrinsic value and they did not radiate magic, but we made a mental note to follow up on that back in town with the archivist.

Proceeding to the tomb rooms, we found what appeared to be an archive of historical books and papers and – perhaps most surprising – some recent footprints in the decades old dust.  There were some magical scrolls here held down by a holy symbol of Alseta as a paperweight. Kyira determined they were darkness, dark vision, cure light wounds, and magic missile.  There was also a valuable looking silver and garnet ring that was not magical.

There were a few candle stubs on the table that caused both Gath and I to conclude there’s been some sort of necromantic spell or ceremony performed here recently.  But Alak interrupted as he stared at the ring.  “That was my father’s! I remember playing with it as a child. It’s exactly the sort of thing I’d hoped to find.”  Well of course we had to give it to him.

Following the tracks led to an even bigger surprise, though.  At the back of one of an adjacent room, there was a dirt passage leading away into the earth.  Following it carefully for hundreds if not thousands of feet, we found ourselves emerging in the basement of the Pickled Ear.

We discussed the implications of all this.  We concluded that it had probably been Roz and she was probably the one who literally woke the dead.  Judging from the haste in which she left, it probably was not appreciated by the warriors in the tombs.

That evening, back in town, there was a strange revelation over dinner. While discussing the day’s events, Aemi seemed to reach some internal conclusion and suddenly told us a bunch more about her life than any of us knew, or could have made up, for that matter. She was not just the awkward poor-shooting musician she appeared to be.  She has some sort of double life homeless rich girl dead parent guilt thing going on.  With music.  And I still don’t fully understand where the bird fits in, because that’s no normal bird.  I guess it’s a compliment of sort to be let in on all this, but whew, I’m just .. I’m tired now. I don’t know whether to offer her my condolences or congratulations.

And I used to think “this sword was my grandpa’s” was a conversation starter. Whew.

 

Later that evening, we were thinking we had not ruffled enough feathers in town yet, so at Aemi’s suggestion we went to talk to Roxie Denn (owner of the Pickled Ear) about the earthen passage in her basement.

She was all innocent-faced at first but we quickly reconvened in her office where we could talk without all the bar happening around us.  “Us” happened to be Gath, Aemi, Kyira, Marcus, and myself.  She tried to be surprised before finally bursting. “She just paid me to use it.  Didn’t tell me more than that, and I didn’t ask. You don’t cross a woman like Voz.  She does that bad magic stuff (“Necromancy?”) yeah, that stuff. I swear, I’ll block it off in my basement and that’ll be the end of it.  No need for the council to be involved.”

Aemi soothed the apparently aggrieved tavern owner by suggesting that simply blocking the entrance in her basement would improve things immensely.  And of course, making sure that Voz didn’t use it anymore.

Before returning to the main bar, Aemi took Gath aside and said softly, “I understand you have some skill at entering places that are apparently blocked. I have an idea …”

3 Arodus

The next morning, most of the group met in front of The Reliant Book Company – Voz’s shop. (Liberté went off to talk with the archivist again.)  A sign hung from the door: Away on Business Until Further Notice.  The door was locked.  The plan had been to interview Voz, perhaps with vigor, and get her to tell us what she knew.  But now …

“Since she’s not here, we should search inside,” said somebody.  I startled a bit, and said, “I think we need to get permission from the council to do that.”  There were some quick glances exchanged between the other folks before Trip came over and said, “That’s a good point.  Why don’t you go do that?”

Well, there was no battle or magic needed here right now, so that seemed like a good idea. “Ok,” I replied, and headed off to the council chambers.  As I left, the group was talking animatedly, and several were pointing at the storefront; Gath was shaking his head slightly in apparent disagreement and pointing down a side alley.

I made it to the Town Hall and had the good fortune to find the councilor Greta in her office.  She looked up with a questioning look.  I was hoping that what I was about to ask was a common question with a common answer because I’ve never been involved in government or even in a courtroom.  After a bit she asked pleasantly, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m with the group who brought Calmont back and who is working at making the citadel safe again, and we have a need to get into a house – business really – but I’m pretty sure that needs a piece of paper or something?”

She looked a bit confused and said, “Yes, I thought you were working at clearing out the citadel, so what house or business are you asking about?”

I was already sensing that I’d asked the question wrong, because I was pretty sure the answer was yes, we needed some paper or permission just like I told the group.  So I explained a little further. “Right, yes, but as part of that investigation we’ve found that somebody has, I think, or we think, that a person has been visiting the citadel by a secret tunnel” – and I realized I shouldn’t say the name because they haven’t been formally accused of anything – “and we want to, you know, better understand that circumstance, but there’s a sign on the door that they -”

Greta interrupted, “Which is fine, so you certainly should interview them then.”

She wasn’t getting it. I never wanted to be a law expert or even a town official and this was why.  The rules and the forms and the customs just, well back in Logas it just was easier. “Right, but like I said there’s a sign saying they’re gone and don’t know when they’ll be back so since they aren’t here we just wanted to go and collect the information without them by looking at their records and stuff.”

Greta had a look now that my grandpa gave me once when when I told him that old people think differently. Not old like my father but really old like my grandpa.  Her eyes seemed set and her lips got thin. “You want permission to search their home or office while they’re gone?”

“Yes!” I gave a big sigh. “Yes exactly!  Is this where we get that paper or whatever?”

Greta turned her head slightly like maybe one eye could see me better than the other. “Well, what do you suspect them of?” she asked slowly. “We’d need the town guard to be present as well and a solid reason. What’s going on?”

Ok, now we were getting somewhere. I was pretty sure Voz was up to something but I wanted to make sure we’re following whatever the rules are in Breachill for this sort of thing. I’m kind of liking this place and don’t want to get anybody mad at us.  “Well… we’re in the middle of it right now, so it’s still kind of fuzzy but that’s why we need to… Remember Calmont? and the bookstore? and Voz and all that? There seems to be more to that story.”

I nodded and smiled.  Smiling always helps, or at least it did that time with grandpa.

But if anything, Greta turned her head another notch and now it was pretty much one eye staring me down.  I rephrased my point.  “And, so we want to talk to Voz about it to… you know, learn more about it, but there’s a sign on her door that says she’s away on vacation or something, and no indication of when she’ll be back.  So if we knew when she’d be back it would be easier, but we don’t so we’ll have to look at her stuff to get the information.”

Greta’s one eye was narrowed into almost a slit now.  “So you don’t really know if she’s done anything, you want to find out more, but you want to search her private office while she’s away.”

I almost did an eyeroll but caught myself.  Finally she got it.  I guess I just hadn’t been very clear. “So, right, we’re not at all sure it’s anything yet, but it could be and if it is, then we need to know, so, yeah.”

Greta looked at me with both eyes again now.  “If you’re not even sure a crime has been committed, this is quite premature. It sounds like this can all wait until she returns.  If you had any actual evidence that she committed a crime then we could justify searching her place now.”

And boom, it hit me.  I was thinking we needed the paper before we could start, but Greta was telling me we could get it after, once it was clear there was a crime.  “So if we have actual evidence of a crime then we should come back with that.”

Greta sighed. “Yes,” she said simply.

By way of clarification I asked, “So if there was evidence that she was, say, rummaging through other people’s things, like breaking and entering?”  I was thinking she had gone through Calmont’s stuff so it should be pretty easy to get that evidence.

“Yes, that would be a crime,” responded Greta.  “Do you have evidence of that?”

“Not right now, but if I do, I’ll be back.”

Greta did the one-eye thing again and watched me all the way out the door before returning to her work.

Returning to the bookstore, I found our group and reported that I’d talked to Greta and as long as we found evidence of a crime, it was ok for us to go in.  Aemi looked like she was going to say something, but shook her head slightly like she was a little dizzy or something and was trying to clear her vision.  She said that fortunately for us, Voz had been sloppy when discarding her trash, and they had found a partial note that suggested she had found another way into Alseta’s gate via someplace called Guardian’s Way.  They also found some related notes that Voz had written that may prove useful.