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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Capellan" data-source="post: 697556" data-attributes="member: 6294">"Hooberan's Stockade" by Wicht  - Part 14It is obvious that the ghoul has made some attempt to enter the room in the past - there are numerous claw marks in the dark, hard wood - but the sturdy material has weathered these attempts with ease."I doubt we'll be able to force it." the Padre glances at the two rogues in the party, "Think you can pick it?"Mantreus doesn't bat an eyelid."Give me a couple of minutes.  If it can be picked, I'll do it."The rogue proves as good as his word.  Almost exactly two minutes later, the lock clicks open.Beyond the door is a room filled with yet more shelves of books.  At the centre of the chamber is a large, oak desk.  On the far side of the desk is a heavy, cushioned chair.  Sitting at the chair, half sprawled across the desk, is the body of a man.The corpse - for it is obvious that the man is dead - is dressed in finely made robes, obviously expensive.  He lies face-down on the desk, one hand outstretched and blotched with ink."I think he might have been writing something just before he died." Sirdros points to the man's ink-stained fingers, which are quite at odds with his otherwise elegant appearance. "Can someone help me move him aside?"Stormstrider gives his fellow elf an amused look and lifts the corpse bodily off the table with one hand, revealing a creased sheet of parchment.  Sirdros quickly snags the sheet, and the ranger then lets the body drop heavily back onto the table.  This earns him a reproving stare from both priests, though he makes no sign of having noticed.Sirdros places the sheet of parchment on the table, smoothing it as best he can with his hands, and struggling to piece together the erratic, jagged handwriting.  He reads aloud as he works his way through the note.Everyone in Hooberan’s is dying.We burned down the house he was staying in but it was not enough. The fire was very bright and he screamed. The fever is taking us all. I can barely see to write and it grows worse. Was it the water? The Festival? Hooberan tricked the things and locked them in the shrine to the Farmer’s Wife. It is now an evil place where are the dead. My head burns and I cannot burn the town for I cannot leave my room here. There are things I fear clawing at the door. But they will not kill me. The fire kills me and burns my hand to the touch. The town must burn. There is oil in the packing crates. Stay away from Hooberan’s and don’t read this. Burn the town."I thought they grew berries here, not nuts ..." Twinkle quips."It's obvious he was delirious at the end." The Padre concedes, "But his intention of burning the town was sensible.  We will have to complete the task on his behalf."Elspeth nods in agreement,"It also sounds like we were right about what happened, here." She observes, "the Death Cultist intended to kill or control everyone here, but he either revealed himself too soon or was discovered, and they managed to destroy him.""Unfortunately, it was too late to save themselves." The Padre looks genuinely saddened."Tough break." Mantreus agrees, then slaps his hands together, "Next house, anyone?"</blockquote>

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