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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3915824" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>In any other place, a cry for help would bring Heath running. Here, though, things were different. He stands over the trap door, listening to the silence that followed the scream.</p><p></p><p>He looks at the swine innards strewn across the floor, his boots covered in offal. But one thing was missing: Even the flies avoided Kem House.</p><p></p><p>"I hate this place," Heath sighs. He takes both axes in his hands again and tromps loudly down the stairs into the darkness. "Right, every one of you is crazier than a kobold with a gnome inside his sister and if you try ANYTHING, I'll-"</p><p></p><p>Heath stops short at the bottom of the stairs by the scene before him, his mouth going dry.</p><p></p><p>"Oh, now this just ain't right."</p><p></p><p>The stone chamber is surprisingly well lit for a dungeon. The torches mounted in the passageway between six large cells look relatively new in comparison. And those aren't the only new additions: Amidst the implements of torture are doily-covered home furnishings.</p><p></p><p>Each once-identical cell is now dedicated to its own unique purpose. The first four cells hold a parlor, some kind of anteroom or office, and two bedrooms, each with heavy wooden doors removed from their hinges, and each empty.</p><p></p><p>Then Heath hears the women murmuring again, the sound causing gooseflesh to rise on his arms.</p><p></p><p>From one of the bedrooms, he creeps back out into the passage and past a small table with memorabilia and other keepsakes on it. Beyond it is the next room, the kitchen, and again, no one inside, just cooking implements hanging from iron shackles and a torture rack converted to a food preparation surface. Heath turns his head away from the kitchen and stifles a gasp.</p><p></p><p>Standing in the passage is a ghoulish old woman, emaciated and dressed in tatters, gray hair an oily, tangled rat's nest. Her teeth are yellowed and rotten, and Heath can hear a whistling noise as she spoke.</p><p></p><p>"Do join us in the tea room, won't you? It's been so dreadfully long since we've had a proper guest."</p><p></p><p>"You ... you just have to be dead," he says.</p><p></p><p>"Don't be rude," she hisses. "I just invited you in for brunch after you've barged right into our home."</p><p></p><p>As she turns and hobbles back into the "tea room," Heath can't help but notice her crooked spine. He feels no sympathy for her, but as a doctor it made him uncomfortable.</p><p></p><p>"Now, come sit down or show yourself out. Makes no never mind to me."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, no. You think I'm doing this again? You people twist everything until a man don't remember what he came in with or left without. I had enough of that 10 years ago. I ain't sitting with your kin, not now or ever.</p><p></p><p>"And I'll tell you something else I ain't gonna do: I ain't leaving until I see that boy Rando. Then I can get back to the business I rightfully came here for."</p><p></p><p>Heath storms into the tea room.</p><p></p><p>"You hear me on that?"</p><p></p><p>The decrepit old woman whirls and slaps a bony hand to his chest. She is strong for her age and condition, but she barely slows him. But Heath stops on his own, realizing there isn't much room for charging, nor much call for it, despite his rage. Behind the old woman is a younger one, around Heath's age, sitting quietly sipping her drink. She sets her porcelain teacup down with a jangle into a mismatched saucer. In fact, the entire set is mismatched. Moreover, everything about this place was hodge-podge.</p><p></p><p>Rando Kem is nowhere to be seen.</p><p></p><p>Instead, the cloudy-eyed younger woman shakes her head.</p><p></p><p>"Please," she whispers, "Don't."</p><p></p><p>He'd seen eyes like that before, 15 years ago. It was a different woman, but the look was the same. This one, like the other, had once been beautiful, before time and circumstance got hold of her, before decades of hopeless panic had ruined her.</p><p></p><p>"Afraid I'm going to have to insist you bugger off, now, young man," the haggard old crone whistles.</p><p></p><p>Heath stares for a moment at the young woman before turning his attention back toward the hag in front of him.</p><p></p><p>"You damned Kems and your rules. You people steep in this."</p><p></p><p>Heath backs away from the crone and her obscene grin. He storms back toward the stairs, but turns back around, his foot on the first step.</p><p></p><p>"Rando meets me at the front door before I leave, 10, 15 minutes. I ain't taking him!" Heath yells as the old woman opened her mouth to retort. "Learned that lesson too well the last time. Just want to say something to him. That's all."</p><p></p><p>The two say nothing in response; the younger woman too terrified and the older too defiant to do so.</p><p></p><p>"I ain't ever seen a house in more need of Estanna's tending than this one. I know y'all don't care but I'm going to pray for her to find this place." Heath sighs as he climbs the stairs and opens the trap door to the room above. "But I doubt she will."</p><p></p><p>Moments after Heath releases the heavy trap door with a slam, the young woman's horrible cry echoes in the study and out into the hall.</p><p></p><p>"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE M--"</p><p></p><p>Heath closes his eyes, either not hearing the scream that follows, or ignoring it.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 3915824, member: 11760"] In any other place, a cry for help would bring Heath running. Here, though, things were different. He stands over the trap door, listening to the silence that followed the scream. He looks at the swine innards strewn across the floor, his boots covered in offal. But one thing was missing: Even the flies avoided Kem House. "I hate this place," Heath sighs. He takes both axes in his hands again and tromps loudly down the stairs into the darkness. "Right, every one of you is crazier than a kobold with a gnome inside his sister and if you try ANYTHING, I'll-" Heath stops short at the bottom of the stairs by the scene before him, his mouth going dry. "Oh, now this just ain't right." The stone chamber is surprisingly well lit for a dungeon. The torches mounted in the passageway between six large cells look relatively new in comparison. And those aren't the only new additions: Amidst the implements of torture are doily-covered home furnishings. Each once-identical cell is now dedicated to its own unique purpose. The first four cells hold a parlor, some kind of anteroom or office, and two bedrooms, each with heavy wooden doors removed from their hinges, and each empty. Then Heath hears the women murmuring again, the sound causing gooseflesh to rise on his arms. From one of the bedrooms, he creeps back out into the passage and past a small table with memorabilia and other keepsakes on it. Beyond it is the next room, the kitchen, and again, no one inside, just cooking implements hanging from iron shackles and a torture rack converted to a food preparation surface. Heath turns his head away from the kitchen and stifles a gasp. Standing in the passage is a ghoulish old woman, emaciated and dressed in tatters, gray hair an oily, tangled rat's nest. Her teeth are yellowed and rotten, and Heath can hear a whistling noise as she spoke. "Do join us in the tea room, won't you? It's been so dreadfully long since we've had a proper guest." "You ... you just have to be dead," he says. "Don't be rude," she hisses. "I just invited you in for brunch after you've barged right into our home." As she turns and hobbles back into the "tea room," Heath can't help but notice her crooked spine. He feels no sympathy for her, but as a doctor it made him uncomfortable. "Now, come sit down or show yourself out. Makes no never mind to me." "Oh, no. You think I'm doing this again? You people twist everything until a man don't remember what he came in with or left without. I had enough of that 10 years ago. I ain't sitting with your kin, not now or ever. "And I'll tell you something else I ain't gonna do: I ain't leaving until I see that boy Rando. Then I can get back to the business I rightfully came here for." Heath storms into the tea room. "You hear me on that?" The decrepit old woman whirls and slaps a bony hand to his chest. She is strong for her age and condition, but she barely slows him. But Heath stops on his own, realizing there isn't much room for charging, nor much call for it, despite his rage. Behind the old woman is a younger one, around Heath's age, sitting quietly sipping her drink. She sets her porcelain teacup down with a jangle into a mismatched saucer. In fact, the entire set is mismatched. Moreover, everything about this place was hodge-podge. Rando Kem is nowhere to be seen. Instead, the cloudy-eyed younger woman shakes her head. "Please," she whispers, "Don't." He'd seen eyes like that before, 15 years ago. It was a different woman, but the look was the same. This one, like the other, had once been beautiful, before time and circumstance got hold of her, before decades of hopeless panic had ruined her. "Afraid I'm going to have to insist you bugger off, now, young man," the haggard old crone whistles. Heath stares for a moment at the young woman before turning his attention back toward the hag in front of him. "You damned Kems and your rules. You people steep in this." Heath backs away from the crone and her obscene grin. He storms back toward the stairs, but turns back around, his foot on the first step. "Rando meets me at the front door before I leave, 10, 15 minutes. I ain't taking him!" Heath yells as the old woman opened her mouth to retort. "Learned that lesson too well the last time. Just want to say something to him. That's all." The two say nothing in response; the younger woman too terrified and the older too defiant to do so. "I ain't ever seen a house in more need of Estanna's tending than this one. I know y'all don't care but I'm going to pray for her to find this place." Heath sighs as he climbs the stairs and opens the trap door to the room above. "But I doubt she will." Moments after Heath releases the heavy trap door with a slam, the young woman's horrible cry echoes in the study and out into the hall. "HOW COULD YOU LEAVE M--" Heath closes his eyes, either not hearing the scream that follows, or ignoring it. [/QUOTE]
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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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