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<blockquote data-quote="soanso" data-source="post: 6209047" data-attributes="member: 6684655"><p><strong>Tangled Threads</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit">“What was that?” I asked as we made our way to the sawmill. I was just behind Gomer and Belor, who were talking in hushed tones. At my back C, Shaiira, Mundin, Vohoi and Noria kept pace. The open road will wait, she always does.</span></span></p><p> <span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit">“Again please, Sheriff? If we are to help I’ll need to know why you two whisper so.” I had heard them plainly, but hearing and knowing are two sides of one coin. Best hold both sides, PopPop would say. “What of this ‘late unpleasantness’?”</span></span></p><p> <span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit">I watched the men exchange muted glances as their tongues slowed.</span></span></p><p> <span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black"><span style="font-family: inherit">“I can turn round and simply ask my fans at the Dragon,” I offered. A few days past my arrival at the Rusty Dragon, I had taken to entertaining late night patrons by the fireside with the tales of my youth, of Varisian folktales, and of myths older than Varisia itself. In turn, I’d gleaned some favors and information from them.</span></span></p><p> </p><p>“There hasn’t been such a disturbance in Sandpoint since then,” Belor replied. “An eccentric woodcarver by name of Jervis Stoot turned out to be a serial killer.”</p><p> </p><p>“Time was,” Gomer said, “Folks wanted one of his bird-carvings on their house. But you didn’t ask, he chose ya.” We passed several blocks in silence; I noticed a few such intricate birds in gables and atop flagpoles. I had wondered their history.</p><p> “It was a dark time, one we wish to never relive,” he finished. I believed the young lieutenant.</p><p> “How far is the barn where the men were murdered?” asked Noria.</p><p> “Not even a half day,” the sheriff replied. “A man named Grayst Sevilla was found wandering the roads north of the barn,” he said. “My men found him incoherent, and turned him in to Erin Habe, the fellow that keeps a sanitarium south of here. Was rambling about an end of times and…” Belor’s voice drifted off.</p><p> “And what?” I asked.</p><p> “He’s a witness to the barn murders.” Something did not sit well with me.</p><p> </p><p>As we approached the sawmill, a man was standing outside with a few militia. We assumed the authority granted us by the town.</p><p> “It’s, oh, it’s… Bannie’s dead, destroyed, really. His girl, Vinder’s girl, she’s… she’s there too,” the thin man said.</p><p> “I’m sorry,” Shaiira said, “But who in the stars are you?” My sister is not much for pleasantries.</p><p> “Um, Ibor Thorn, I have a stake in this mill, here. Bannie was my partner, the low bastard. Mr. Scarnetti’s gonna flip.”</p><p> “Why?” asked Vohoi.</p><p> “Bannie’s lady, she was a shiny diamond, cost him a lot to keep her temper, but I din’t do it!” Ibor seemed genuine enough, though a bit tipsy for midmorn.</p><p> “Do what?” I asked.</p><p> “That, I… you’ll see, you’ll see if ya go in. I din’t do that. I coun’nt… it’s… He was stealin’ though, I’ll tell ya that. Ah poor sot… Shounna been like this, no sir. Not, no, no… go in an’ see, it’s… horrible.” His remorse seemed genuine. We left Ibor with the militia and headed into the mill. “Sheriff,” I said as low as I could, “Send some men to Ibor’s house, just to keep an eye on it. If there’s fraud, this might be a frame.” I said. The sheriff agreed and dispatched a pair of guards to Thorn’s property.</p><p> </p><p>We passed through the small reception office into the mill proper.</p><p> “Do ya smell that? Reminds me of a troll fart,” Mundin said, wrinkling his nose.</p><p> “Aye, worse than a bound hobgoblin stuffed with head cheese and left to rot atop a tor,” Noria countered. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes the Common tongue is a plague on the senses. But it was true; we all noted the stench of rotten meat wafting through the air.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t be the bodies,” C noted as we slowly made our way to the back end of the building.</p><p> “Agreed, too fresh,” said Vohoi. </p><p> </p><p>The mill was impressive in its size. I’d never been inside one; the machinery of conveyor belts and jagged saws, the sluices where timber flowed to them and the wicked hooks to pick up massive logs and drop them at the top of the operation, all were impressive. A large set of doors opened to the pier. Our attention was drawn to a grisly scene near a set of large gears that turned the saw blades.</p><p> </p><p>There, in a pool of blood on the floor, lay the body of what must have been Bannie Harker. His face was gone, revealing the gore and gristle of bone and cartilage beneath; his lower jaw was removed, and his shirt was torn away, a sihedron scarred into his chest. Kitrina Vinder, his lover, was worse off; her body was crushed and wound into the huge gears of the mill, nearly unrecognizable save her telltale polished patent leather red shoes.</p><p> </p><p>Punctuating the scene was a bloodied axe, its handle slick with gore, slammed into the topside of a scrivener’s desk.</p><p> We searched the works, finding a bloody set of footprints leading out the doors to the pier. We decided first to search the second floor offices. In one we found a desk drawer with a false bottom. In the hidden compartment was a set of thin ledgers identical to the set on the shelves above the desk; a quick glance through the last few entries seemed to confirm Thorn’s suspicions- Bannie Harker was cooking the books. C noticed the smell of carrion around the window of the office, perhaps the vile intruder entered through this window.</p><p> </p><p>“Some type of corporeal undead,” Caramour pronounced, “but it would need to be very skilled to come through the water and scale the building.” </p><p> We tracked the bloody footprints to the end of the pier, and then found a similar set on the far bank, one going in and one coming out, but we lost the trail from there. We told Gomer to let Belor know we were headed to the barn and then the sanitarium.</p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t much to see at the barn, though searching through the refuse therein produced a note addressed to Mortwell, Hask, and Tabe, inviting the men to meet at the barn at night to discuss a deal involving gold and property. As I read the note aloud, my heart dropped into my boots.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it?” Shaiira asked, “You’ve gone pale.”</p><p> “It is signed by ‘Your Lordship,’” I said, “Same as the other one.”</p><p> </p><p>We made our way to the sanitarium as the afternoon wore on. A three story stone building sat on a low hill before us. There was a short porch. I knocked and an older man answered the door. </p><p> “Erin Habe, I assume?” I said.</p><p> “Yes,” he said. “What can I do for you, oh, there are many of you,” he said, noting my companions.</p><p> “We are looking for a man brought here by the sheriff’s men, his name is Grayst Sevilla, I believe. We need to take him into custody.” </p><p> “I’m sorry to say that he’s being… treated and cannot leave my care,” Habe said.</p><p> “Could we just talk to him here?” I asked. </p><p> “You will not be leaving I take it?” Habe replied. </p><p> “Nope,” said Mundin as he casually inspected one of his axes with his index finger.</p><p> </p><p>Habe sighed heavily. “All right, but please be quick about it, he needs treatment.” We followed Habe inside, and he led us to a room with a table and chairs. Closed wooden doors to the right and in front of us led deeper into the sanitarium.</p><p> Two rough-looking tieflings brought a man into the room, unbound. </p><p> </p><p>“He is ill,” C said, and he focused a wave of healing energy through the room, but the man’s pale, gangrenous skin did not improve. His milky white eyes were very disturbing.</p><p> </p><p>“Did he come to you in this condition?” Noria asked.</p><p> “Uh, oh yes, yes he did,” Habe stammered.</p><p> </p><p>The man was softly babbling. “Knives, too many teeth… Razors. Razors! The skinsaw man is coming… too many teeth…”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Sevilla, we need to ask you about the barn,” I said. His head whipped towards my direction and a maniacal smile spread his cracked lips, revealing shattered, jagged teeth and a sickly purple tongue. He spoke, his gravelly voice jumping with excitement.</p><p> </p><p>“He said. He said you would visit me. His Lordship. The one that unmade me said so. He has a place for you. A precious place. I’m so jealous. He has a message for you. He made me remember it. I hope I haven’t forgotten. The master wouldn’t approve if I forgot. Let me see… let… me… see…” </p><p> </p><p>His rotten brow furrowed for a moment before he shrieked excitedly- “He said that if you came to his Misgivings, that if you joined his Pack, he would end his harvest in your honor!”</p><p> </p><p>“His Misgivings?” Mundin said. </p><p> “That’s the name the locals use when referring to Foxglove Manor,” Vohoi said. “Rumor is it’s haunted.”</p><p> “Do you think Aldern is involved somehow?” Shaiira asked me.</p><p> “I don’t know. He headed back to Magnimar a few days ago. I know he mentioned his family was nobility from near here, but he never mentioned anything like that.”</p><p> “Can ya blame him?” Mundin said.</p><p> “No, but now I wonder-”</p><p> “Listen, I need to get the patient back to his room, he needs treatment,” Habe interrupted.</p><p> “We need him,” Noria said. “He’s important to our investigation.” Shaiira and Mundin bound Sevilla, who did not resist, and was back to his low, insane ranting.</p><p> </p><p>Habe became visibly nervous and shouted, “Listen, I need to get him back, now! Before-”</p><p> The door across the room opened and an aged man holding a staff bellowed, “Habe what is taking so long?” A foul odor seeped from the stairs behind the man, and several humanoids followed him up the stairs. “What are you doing with the subject?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>As the zombies burst into the room, their master cast a spell that intensified the odor and filled the room. The tiefling next to Caramour attacked while Habe screamed and fled the room through the other door. The dwarves made quick work of the zombies and the necromancer; C dropped one orderly. As the cloud dissipated, the remaining orderly held up his hands, surrendering.</p><p> </p><p>I found Habe in the next room, presumably his office, cowering beneath the desk. “I surrender! It’s not what you think!” he shrieked.</p><p> I escorted Habe to the next room, where C was administering aid to the fallen orderly. Habe explained that the necromancer paid him to rent the basement for experiments. Since he needed the money, Habe turned a blind eye to the man and his business. He gave us permission to inspect the necromancer’s quarters. “Take it all, I don’t care,” Habe said.</p><p> </p><p>We inspected the rest of the property, finding three other residents- a very, very old man who paid us no mind, a farmer named Sedge who was covered in scars and was eyeless, and a wererat named Pidgit Turgelsen, a Korvosan who was obsessed with knives.</p><p> We concentrated our efforts on diagnosing Sevilla. We determined he was suffering from ghoul fever, and decided to end his suffering and save Varisia from another potent evil. We decided to make the journey back to Sandpoint rather than spend a night at Habe’s Sanitarium.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="soanso, post: 6209047, member: 6684655"] [b]Tangled Threads[/b] [COLOR=black][FONT='inherit']“What was that?” I asked as we made our way to the sawmill. I was just behind Gomer and Belor, who were talking in hushed tones. At my back C, Shaiira, Mundin, Vohoi and Noria kept pace. The open road will wait, she always does.[/FONT][/COLOR] [COLOR=black][FONT='inherit'] “Again please, Sheriff? If we are to help I’ll need to know why you two whisper so.” I had heard them plainly, but hearing and knowing are two sides of one coin. Best hold both sides, PopPop would say. “What of this ‘late unpleasantness’?”[/FONT][/COLOR] [COLOR=black][FONT='inherit'] I watched the men exchange muted glances as their tongues slowed.[/FONT][/COLOR] [COLOR=black][FONT='inherit'] “I can turn round and simply ask my fans at the Dragon,” I offered. A few days past my arrival at the Rusty Dragon, I had taken to entertaining late night patrons by the fireside with the tales of my youth, of Varisian folktales, and of myths older than Varisia itself. In turn, I’d gleaned some favors and information from them.[/FONT][/COLOR] “There hasn’t been such a disturbance in Sandpoint since then,” Belor replied. “An eccentric woodcarver by name of Jervis Stoot turned out to be a serial killer.” “Time was,” Gomer said, “Folks wanted one of his bird-carvings on their house. But you didn’t ask, he chose ya.” We passed several blocks in silence; I noticed a few such intricate birds in gables and atop flagpoles. I had wondered their history. “It was a dark time, one we wish to never relive,” he finished. I believed the young lieutenant. “How far is the barn where the men were murdered?” asked Noria. “Not even a half day,” the sheriff replied. “A man named Grayst Sevilla was found wandering the roads north of the barn,” he said. “My men found him incoherent, and turned him in to Erin Habe, the fellow that keeps a sanitarium south of here. Was rambling about an end of times and…” Belor’s voice drifted off. “And what?” I asked. “He’s a witness to the barn murders.” Something did not sit well with me. As we approached the sawmill, a man was standing outside with a few militia. We assumed the authority granted us by the town. “It’s, oh, it’s… Bannie’s dead, destroyed, really. His girl, Vinder’s girl, she’s… she’s there too,” the thin man said. “I’m sorry,” Shaiira said, “But who in the stars are you?” My sister is not much for pleasantries. “Um, Ibor Thorn, I have a stake in this mill, here. Bannie was my partner, the low bastard. Mr. Scarnetti’s gonna flip.” “Why?” asked Vohoi. “Bannie’s lady, she was a shiny diamond, cost him a lot to keep her temper, but I din’t do it!” Ibor seemed genuine enough, though a bit tipsy for midmorn. “Do what?” I asked. “That, I… you’ll see, you’ll see if ya go in. I din’t do that. I coun’nt… it’s… He was stealin’ though, I’ll tell ya that. Ah poor sot… Shounna been like this, no sir. Not, no, no… go in an’ see, it’s… horrible.” His remorse seemed genuine. We left Ibor with the militia and headed into the mill. “Sheriff,” I said as low as I could, “Send some men to Ibor’s house, just to keep an eye on it. If there’s fraud, this might be a frame.” I said. The sheriff agreed and dispatched a pair of guards to Thorn’s property. We passed through the small reception office into the mill proper. “Do ya smell that? Reminds me of a troll fart,” Mundin said, wrinkling his nose. “Aye, worse than a bound hobgoblin stuffed with head cheese and left to rot atop a tor,” Noria countered. Sometimes the Common tongue is a plague on the senses. But it was true; we all noted the stench of rotten meat wafting through the air. “Can’t be the bodies,” C noted as we slowly made our way to the back end of the building. “Agreed, too fresh,” said Vohoi. The mill was impressive in its size. I’d never been inside one; the machinery of conveyor belts and jagged saws, the sluices where timber flowed to them and the wicked hooks to pick up massive logs and drop them at the top of the operation, all were impressive. A large set of doors opened to the pier. Our attention was drawn to a grisly scene near a set of large gears that turned the saw blades. There, in a pool of blood on the floor, lay the body of what must have been Bannie Harker. His face was gone, revealing the gore and gristle of bone and cartilage beneath; his lower jaw was removed, and his shirt was torn away, a sihedron scarred into his chest. Kitrina Vinder, his lover, was worse off; her body was crushed and wound into the huge gears of the mill, nearly unrecognizable save her telltale polished patent leather red shoes. Punctuating the scene was a bloodied axe, its handle slick with gore, slammed into the topside of a scrivener’s desk. We searched the works, finding a bloody set of footprints leading out the doors to the pier. We decided first to search the second floor offices. In one we found a desk drawer with a false bottom. In the hidden compartment was a set of thin ledgers identical to the set on the shelves above the desk; a quick glance through the last few entries seemed to confirm Thorn’s suspicions- Bannie Harker was cooking the books. C noticed the smell of carrion around the window of the office, perhaps the vile intruder entered through this window. “Some type of corporeal undead,” Caramour pronounced, “but it would need to be very skilled to come through the water and scale the building.” We tracked the bloody footprints to the end of the pier, and then found a similar set on the far bank, one going in and one coming out, but we lost the trail from there. We told Gomer to let Belor know we were headed to the barn and then the sanitarium. There wasn’t much to see at the barn, though searching through the refuse therein produced a note addressed to Mortwell, Hask, and Tabe, inviting the men to meet at the barn at night to discuss a deal involving gold and property. As I read the note aloud, my heart dropped into my boots. “What is it?” Shaiira asked, “You’ve gone pale.” “It is signed by ‘Your Lordship,’” I said, “Same as the other one.” We made our way to the sanitarium as the afternoon wore on. A three story stone building sat on a low hill before us. There was a short porch. I knocked and an older man answered the door. “Erin Habe, I assume?” I said. “Yes,” he said. “What can I do for you, oh, there are many of you,” he said, noting my companions. “We are looking for a man brought here by the sheriff’s men, his name is Grayst Sevilla, I believe. We need to take him into custody.” “I’m sorry to say that he’s being… treated and cannot leave my care,” Habe said. “Could we just talk to him here?” I asked. “You will not be leaving I take it?” Habe replied. “Nope,” said Mundin as he casually inspected one of his axes with his index finger. Habe sighed heavily. “All right, but please be quick about it, he needs treatment.” We followed Habe inside, and he led us to a room with a table and chairs. Closed wooden doors to the right and in front of us led deeper into the sanitarium. Two rough-looking tieflings brought a man into the room, unbound. “He is ill,” C said, and he focused a wave of healing energy through the room, but the man’s pale, gangrenous skin did not improve. His milky white eyes were very disturbing. “Did he come to you in this condition?” Noria asked. “Uh, oh yes, yes he did,” Habe stammered. The man was softly babbling. “Knives, too many teeth… Razors. Razors! The skinsaw man is coming… too many teeth…” “Mr. Sevilla, we need to ask you about the barn,” I said. His head whipped towards my direction and a maniacal smile spread his cracked lips, revealing shattered, jagged teeth and a sickly purple tongue. He spoke, his gravelly voice jumping with excitement. “He said. He said you would visit me. His Lordship. The one that unmade me said so. He has a place for you. A precious place. I’m so jealous. He has a message for you. He made me remember it. I hope I haven’t forgotten. The master wouldn’t approve if I forgot. Let me see… let… me… see…” His rotten brow furrowed for a moment before he shrieked excitedly- “He said that if you came to his Misgivings, that if you joined his Pack, he would end his harvest in your honor!” “His Misgivings?” Mundin said. “That’s the name the locals use when referring to Foxglove Manor,” Vohoi said. “Rumor is it’s haunted.” “Do you think Aldern is involved somehow?” Shaiira asked me. “I don’t know. He headed back to Magnimar a few days ago. I know he mentioned his family was nobility from near here, but he never mentioned anything like that.” “Can ya blame him?” Mundin said. “No, but now I wonder-” “Listen, I need to get the patient back to his room, he needs treatment,” Habe interrupted. “We need him,” Noria said. “He’s important to our investigation.” Shaiira and Mundin bound Sevilla, who did not resist, and was back to his low, insane ranting. Habe became visibly nervous and shouted, “Listen, I need to get him back, now! Before-” The door across the room opened and an aged man holding a staff bellowed, “Habe what is taking so long?” A foul odor seeped from the stairs behind the man, and several humanoids followed him up the stairs. “What are you doing with the subject?” he asked. As the zombies burst into the room, their master cast a spell that intensified the odor and filled the room. The tiefling next to Caramour attacked while Habe screamed and fled the room through the other door. The dwarves made quick work of the zombies and the necromancer; C dropped one orderly. As the cloud dissipated, the remaining orderly held up his hands, surrendering. I found Habe in the next room, presumably his office, cowering beneath the desk. “I surrender! It’s not what you think!” he shrieked. I escorted Habe to the next room, where C was administering aid to the fallen orderly. Habe explained that the necromancer paid him to rent the basement for experiments. Since he needed the money, Habe turned a blind eye to the man and his business. He gave us permission to inspect the necromancer’s quarters. “Take it all, I don’t care,” Habe said. We inspected the rest of the property, finding three other residents- a very, very old man who paid us no mind, a farmer named Sedge who was covered in scars and was eyeless, and a wererat named Pidgit Turgelsen, a Korvosan who was obsessed with knives. We concentrated our efforts on diagnosing Sevilla. We determined he was suffering from ghoul fever, and decided to end his suffering and save Varisia from another potent evil. We decided to make the journey back to Sandpoint rather than spend a night at Habe’s Sanitarium. [/QUOTE]
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