“Burned and branded but not blinded, though I think it went for my eyes.”

SCG checks his wounds over and decides he had best apply some healing before he falls over...


After a pause he adds
"So what are our thoughts, I for one thought we could possibly clear a floor and secure an area to rest the night, but now I have my doubts....What say we return to town with the papers and materials we have thus far collected?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:40, Thu 25 Apr 2019.

By backtracking through rooms already safely cleared our heroes were able to maneuver out of the prison without further incident, the halls merely eerie in the absence of the defeated haunts.

It was a lonely trek back to town, a short hike made unpleasant by the thin drizzle of rain that had begun to fall while the group was inside the prison.

An air of nervous paranoia seemed to have fallen over the town of Ravengro when they arrived. All four of Sheriff Caeler's deputies were standing on various street corners keeping people calm, distributed so that they had a good view of the town. The sheriff himself was keeping watch over the town hall where the graffiti had been painted the previous night. With the deputies covering all of the street corners in the small town there was nowhere for the vandal to place his grizzly defacement without being seen.

It was a tired and battered group of adventurers that eventually settled in Kendra's home as night fell, bruised and wounded but undaunted after a hard day exploring the haunted ruins.

Garland and Darcon organized the notes that they had gathered as Kendra prepared dinner. It was nice to have a chance to relax and chat with all of the nightmarish encounters of the past days.

---

If you have anything you would like me to do this evening let me know, otherwise we'll move on to the following morning.

Nestling a hot cup of tea in a hand, Darcon pored over the notes they had compiled, enjoying the company of boon companions, a roaring fire and the smell of hot food. Most enjoyable of all though, was the fact they could let down their guard and relax.

"The first thing we need to determine is how to deal with that last haunt; the spell it cast is a deadly incantation of fire, I don't want to be on the receiving end of that, nor do any of you. Most of us are not as sturdy as Sir Constantine, nor as well armored," Darcon remarked after a casual sip from his cup, not looking up from his notes.

“I too would prefer not to be singed again.  How goes the mysteries of the documents?”

SCG rubs the formerly scorched area of his body and is glad for the healing his companion is capable of.

“Perhaps an oil that resists fire and we can drain the haunt without injury.”

"If we can somehow defend ourselves from the rays we can dash in and damage the haunt itself with a siphon or with positive energy." Kendra chimed in, also busy with a desk full of old papers.

The evening passed uneventfully, mostly our heroes kept busy cataloging and organizing the notes from the prison. They would provide a substantial bonus to any research on the prisoners or the haunts.

---

The following morning seemed like any other when a piercing shriek split the morning air, a keening wail that seemed to go on and on. It originated from the town square.

Kendra tumbled out of bed and shrugged an overcoat on over her nightgown to combat the chill air of the misty Ravengro morning. With her sock-less ankles flashing over the rough work boots that she stomped into she, and any of our heroes roused by the cry, dashed to the square to see what the commotion was about.

The night's fog had yet to be burned away by the dawn light just peeking over the mountains and it was a mist shrouded street that loomed before our heroes. Other curious figures were making their way with horrified fascination towards the screaming at the center of town.

The scene was a gruesome but all too familiar tableau.

After the vandal had demonstrated his willingness to move his dark work in order to avoid the night watchmen Sheriff Caeler had distributed his deputies all over town, each standing watch alone in order to cover as much ground as possible. The sheriff himself had stood watch over the Harrowstone monument in the town square.

His body lay at the base of the monument's plinth, slashed nearly to ribbons with clean looking cuts around his face, neck, and chest. A dark pool of blood spread over the ground beneath him. His killer had daubed up the blood and painted in crimson the letters VESOR on the monument.

The wailing cries issued from Jominda Fallenbridge, the town apothecary, kneeling and reaching out for the body while a pair of townswomen tried to restrain and console her.

Keanala followed Kendra to where the sound had come from.  Her friend had rushed right out, not giving Keanala time to get properly dressed, and was clad in a cloak over her night clothes.  Tanarak would probably have paddled her backside for rushing out without proper preparation in the past.

"Blessed Erastil...." she said softly upon seeing the sheriffs body.  The Oread pushed her way through the crowd towards the body.  She'd seen her share of bloodied bodies from her time with Tanarak so this was not a scene that upset her as much as the rest of the townsfolk.  It was still the sheriff and the man did not deserve this.

Kneeling at the bodies side, Keanala tried to examine the wounds to see if she could figure out what had caused this.

OOC:
Heal Check -> 6 (He's dead, Jim)

Garland had spent the night organizing the notes and making a few of his own. When morning came he left early to consult his findings with the temple. However upon coming to the monument once again he looked over the scene and anger rose up in him. "Never again. Not one more person will fall to you." he thought to himself as he looked up, commiting the letters to memory. He knew what his next research subject would be but tonight, he was hunting a killer.

He would let the authorities handle things before going to see Father Grimburrow, knowing he would have to seek advice on the situation before he could act appropriately.

“This is unacceptable for the man of law and order to be cut down by a coward who hides and whines as a cur when it is day and commits foul deeds when honest folk are in bed.  But for now we must discover who has done this. Perform last rites and burial and a new sheriff must be named.”

SCG is no expert but he hopes to be able to tell the death blow and if the sheriff even tried to raise a defense...

As Keanala moved forward to examine the body the crowd parted to let her through. It was well known by the town gossips that the group of strange adventurers were in the good graces of the church of Pharasma, and that went a long way towards assuaging their natural suspicion of outsiders. Still, it was more than one onlooker that shot an untrusting glance at Constantine and Keanala. Orcs and Oreads were exotic and strange, outside the usual fare for the small Ustalavian town.

Keanala's examination yielded little information beyond what was readily visible. The sheriff had been slashed repeatedly by a bladed weapon, primarily on his face, throat, and chest. His truncheon lay nearby but his shortsword was still sheathed. It didn't look like he had much of a chance to defend himself.

Kendra moved off to comfort Jominda, who had discovered the body. She seemed particularly affected by the sight, weeping openly into Kendra's shoulder as the young woman tried to console her.

---

Meanwhile, as Constantine and Keanala investigated the body in the square, Garland made his way through town to the temple of Pharasma. The door of the temple was locked, it was early yet, but repeated knockings brought a bleary eyed acolyte to the door.

Garland was welcomed inside and invited to sit while the acolyte went to fetch Father Grimburrow. Curious apprentices poked their heads from their rooms and Enos gave Garland a shy wave.

Eventually the elderly priest emerged from his room, a robe and stole hastily thrown about his shoulders.

"Greetings, brother Van Burke. What brings you to the temple so early in the morning?"

Darcon stood hooded in the shadows not yet pierced by the early dawn sun, his expression cold as winter as he stared at the corpse of the sheriff. It appeared their vandal had moved up from slaughtering animals to executing humans.

Given the cuts and the fact that the sheriff had not even been able to defend himself, Darcon surmised the killer had either used stealth to his or her advantage or was known to the sheriff and thus able to take him off guard; it seemed also that the killer was at least proficient with a blade, if not an expert.

Walking over the Sir Constantine Darcon asked him softly, "Can paladins not sense evil? If so, perhaps it would be a good time to use it on the woman who discovered the corpse. Just in case, you understand."

Ofcourse the weeping woman being consoled by Kendra was most likely not the culprit, but it never hurt to be sure. Darcon's eyes also raked across the crime scene to see if he could discover something amiss, or perhaps anything that could be used to trace their murderer.

---

Perception: 13

“Alas I cannot do this my path is redemption for monstrous races to build rapport with them and guide them away from the paths of evil.  If they are slain simply for being evil and committing no act of evil then there is no redemption.”

SCG’s mind wanders to the stories and legends to perhaps a were-beast or some sort that was known to the sheriff and the wounds are claws; or maybe a shapeshifter of some kind...

Garland wears a far more serious face then he ever has before in these hallowed walls though seeing the young cleric eases his heart a bit. "Come in Enos. You need not hide when I visit." He felt a desire to lead the younger generation of clerics so took some time to visit with the young man, and impart some wisdom upon the youth.

When Father Grimburrow arrived Garland bowed slightly and took in a deep breath, hating to ask such a large thing of his senoir. "I feel we are running out of time so I must be brief. I need your help. The vandal has become a killer and the sherrif lies dead at the monument. I believe that somehow this is all connected to the prison and someone who passed in the fire: Vesorianna Hawkren. Tonight I will not be researching or exploring the prison, I will find this killer. However I believe that with all the supernatural things going on in the prison this may be an act of possession. Tonight I will be the bait to lure this killer once again while my group hides but we may require assistance should the killer be possessed."

The pudgy form of Councilman Hearthmont pushed through the horrified crowd, blustering and barking orders. He was among the crowd who shot suspicious glances at our heroes, but to his credit he seemed to be handling the situation competently.

He took charge of the remaining three panicked deputies and marshaled them to disperse the crowd. He also arranged for the body to be removed and the bloody spatters, both on the ground and on the monument, to be cleaned.

He looked for a moment as if he were about to confront Kendra about her guests but the poisonous look she shot him forestalled him. He settled for a harrumph and a suspicious glare at Keanala as she investigated before moving on to oversee the cleanup.

Jominda sniffled as she told Kendra about finding the body. The Sheriff had hoped that the presence of the deputies would be enough to stop the vandal, it was quite public knowledge that they would be watching the whole town all night. Jominda knew that he had been awake all night and was bringing him a bite of breakfast when she found the body.

---

Father Grimburrow sat down heavily, his gnarled brow furrowing in sorrow and regret.

"The sheriff? Surely these are dark times. He was a good man." He said, shaking his head sadly.

"Please, act quickly to apprehend this murderer. Without the sheriff I don't know if his deputies have the skill or the courage to do it without you. I will help you however I can."

Garland nodded slowly, not wanting to smile. Not after the death of a good man that could have been avoided if he had put the clues together sooner. "My plan must be kept secret. Any discussion outside my group or the two of us should be avoided at best. Yet you should prepare your clerics for an excosism or if we are unable to stop this killer they should be ready for our wounded. In the meantime the people will need a message of hope. Your community must pull together as one to face this adversity and such words from me will ring hallow."

SCG is watchful knowing it is far too late for a tracker to have assisted in recreating what had happened, his mind continued to wander perhaps a secret passage under the statue, perhaps the statue itself comes to life at the appointed hour as part of a vicious haunt.

He accepts the townsfolk's fear and waits until later on to speak with his friends...


"I see this town is on the brink of terror, perhaps I should volunteer to rally the deputies and see if the truth of the murderous vandal might be illuminated and discovered.  What say you, will you support my choice to face the night and whatever may come to the center of this town?"

"If I do this and perish the suspicion upon you shall pass with me, but facing this foe head on will force it to be revealed.""

Though the task would be dangerous Darcon realized they were fast running out of options. Better they face down this foe than let the village deputies handle it, with likely fatal results.

"I will aid you in this Constantine. We should keep watch at the main monument, one remaining in the open to draw the killer while the rest hide some distance away. But it is possible the murder and the attention it has brought will keep the vandal away for some time, though eventually he will return to deface the monument, and complete his sick compulsion," said the mage in a somber tone.

Keanala tugged at the edge of her raised hood.  It was not so much that she was ashamed of what she was.  She could leave this town any time, but Kendra was a different story.  Just being here was putting suspicions towards her friend and that was not something that the Oread could stand.

"I'm with you as well."  She said, referring to Sir Constantines plan.  "I think that staking out this statue is the only way to find out who the culprit is.  My only concern is that they might not show themselves if you are there in the open, looking or a fight."

Father Grimburrow nodded and waved off a pair of acolytes to begin the preparations.

"I'll prepare the temple with magics for dispelling evil spirits. But why the secrecy? Surely it would put the people's minds at ease if they knew what you suspected, that it was an evil influence and not evil in the heart that has lead to this murder? Or at least put their minds at ease that the church is working to combat the problem."

---

Kendra nodded gravely.

"So far the vandal has struck every night, moving location when the statue was observed but not shy to attack when the whole town was under surveillance. If he starts to lay low we won't have a lead, but he's shown reluctance to act when the statue is watched." She said, trying her best to sum-up what they knew so far.

"Should we watch the monument? Stand guard or stay hidden? Spread out through the town?" She wrung her hands, a worried gesture, and looked to her more seasoned compatriots for guidance.

"My intent is for myself to stand near the statute and perhaps the deputies and you be safe inside, where you may keep watch and be in of doors in the night.  I can stand, watch and ward alone."

SCG nods to each of you in turn,

"I can ward myself and heal myself and am as hard to kill as any orc.  The magical arrows and ranged attacks of fire or holy water, might be our best chance to survive a direct onslaught."

"We're with you." Kendra said, clapping Sir Constantine on the back and trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

---

The day passed slowly and nervously. A pall hung over the town in the wake of the murder, the villagers huddling around their hearths and bolting their doors even in the wan light of day. Never the most lively place, Ravengro had still been a busy farming community. Now the streets were deserted, the citizens staying home, locking themselves away with their fear. Those that ventured out to run their errands did so furtively and in small groups, peering over their shoulders suspiciously and never straying far from the main roads.

The temple rustled quietly with the sound of shifting scrolls and scurrying acolytes as they busied themselves researching and preparing rituals to expel evil spirits.

Garland passed the day in study with Kendra. They toted the notes that the group had retrieved from the prison over to the town hall and sequestered themselves in the archives, poring over old information that may give some clue as to the supernatural influences slowly overtaking the town.

Their search was successful, and they were able to cross reference a great deal of information about the infamous prisoner known as The Splatterman.

---

That night the fog rolled in early, creeping through the streets like ghostly tendrils even before the sun had set. The citizens locked themselves in their houses, more than one nailing Pharasman symbols over hearth and lintel to ward off undeath.

It was getting on towards even, darkness falling, as our heroes decided how to deploy themselves that night.

Darcon was ready as night fell, clad in his hooded white cloak and his staff grasped in a hand; the travel bag holding his belongings was strapped to his chest as per normal and nestled against a hip under his robe. A belt with various pouches was clasped at his waist and a scroll case hung at his other hip, containing the scrolls they had discovered earlier.

"I am ready," he announced to the others. "I suggest Sir Constantine go ahead with his plan of standing by the monument, the better to draw the killer. The rest of us can hide within line of sight of the monument, either in a copse of trees or perhaps inside an empty building, whatever we can find."

"Its not to late to change your mind. I was fine with acting as the bait." he said softly as he patted the paladin on the shoulder. He knew he would say no but the offer was still there. "Remember, we want this person alive. At the very least we might be able to glean some information. For that pusuit, Ive prepared a few spells which will make our attacks are not lethal. I also suggest we take our time with a hiding spot, lets leave nothing to chance tonight."

"Aye my thinking is much the same, I have the ability to smite evil, but also a merciful smite that allows my regular weapons to deal only temporary damage, if one of you perhaps has means to likewise subdue that would be well.  If the perpetrator is not evil..."

He pauses again
"I am for many reasons, the best bait, and the best option."

He nods to the surrounding buildings
"With you all watching, warding and prepared to jump to my aid at the slightest hint of trouble, what could possibly go wrong?"

The night crept on, fog rolling in more and more thickly as the evening hours lengthened. For long hours Sir Constantine stood his lonely vigil at the monument as his companions hid nearby, their eyes fixed on him. Kendra, who had begun to vigil eager eyed, had drifted off to sleep with her head on Keanala's shoulder.

In the wee hours of the morning there was a subtle stirring at the edge of the square. Constantine could barely hear stealthy movement at the periphery of his vision, some dark thing stealing up upon him. It crept closer and closer and then suddenly paused, holding steady where it was. Constantine had been seen.

The figure held still. No words or gestures uttered from it. But a deep wave of drowsiness washed over the lone paladin. His eyelids drooped, his shoulders slumped. He nearly dropped, but at the last instant marshaled his will and threw off the enchantment.

When he didn't topple over the figure began to stealthily creep away.

---

Constantine passes a Perception check and spots somebody sneaking up on him.
He also passes a will save and shakes off a spell of some kind.
The mysterious figure is now sneaking away.

Due to the mist surrounding the battlefield visibility is limited to 30ft and there is a 20% miss chance.

---

CON - Constantine
GAR - Garland
KEA - Keanala
DAR - Darcon

MYS - Mysterious Figure  AC 12, Touch 12, Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +6, 20% miss chance

M - Hearthstone Monument

The hours crept by at a torturous pace that tried even Darcon's patience. Finally though, their patience was rewarded.

He first sensed something amiss when he saw Sir Constantine appear to slump, as Darcon tensed the paladin alerted them to the figure in the fog. Emerging from his hiding place Darcon moved towards Sir Constantine, peering in the dim light of the early morning and trying to make out their target in the mists.

Spotting something, he grasped his staff with both hands and whispered the words to a potent enchantment of his own whilst staring in the direction of the dark figure. "Ut Sopito Saeculorum," the mage whispered over and over again, sending his mystic will unto the words and willing the magic to take effect.

---

Move to h-4.