The Harrowdale Horror: Part 5

[alhoon]

Raen asks the local acolyte. "Excuse me madam, are there any surviving relatives of this man Halvan? I would guess not, since the keep was empty but perhaps someone couldn't afford to get it but knows part of the story."

[ewancummins]

Raen asks the local acolyte. "Excuse me madam, are there any surviving relatives of this man Halvan? I would guess not, since the keep was empty but perhaps someone couldn't afford to get it but knows part of the story."

''I think there are people who claim kinship with Lord Halvan, yes, but he lived and died long before my time. The Temple of Oghma--the men there might know more.''

[ewancummins]

LATER...

The party strikes out across town, nonhuman prisoner in tow, weapons at the ready.

The adventurers cross the muddy streets and lots, reaching the waterfront without having seen any living creatures besides a few rats and scavenger birds picking at heaps of rain-washed garbage in culverts and flooded cellar-mouths.

Willem's boat does not rest at its moorings, but glides over the water about a hundred yards out. The fisherman stands on the deck, adjusting the sails. Getting his attention takes some shouting and waving.

The ship that brought the group here is nowhere in sight.


While some of the party signal the fishing boat and then wait for it on the pier, Klokulf and some others check out the business facilities of Master Quillian, which stand not far distant--within shouting distance and sight of the group calling out to Willem.

Tarred canvases cover all the windows of the big timber and brick warehouse and attached office of stucco and stone. The doors have been boarded up, a rather sloppy bit of work.
Tearing away the cloth, investigators find short planks nailed over the shutters. Whoever did the job was either a poor carpenter or working in haste, as the coverings come free with a good tug.

Peeking in a window, Klokulf and his friends spy crates, amphorae, sacks, and barrels stacked about the vast dim interior. A nasty, oleaginous smell leaks out. They know that stench well from the stinking hold of the vessel that brought them to this accursed city: whale oil.

Once they've pried the boards loose from the door, Klokulf finds an overturned desk blocking the threshold.
Beyond this toppled furniture, the office lies in a shambles: papers, ink, abacus beads all strewn across the floor. A big upright cabinet or wardrobe is the only piece of furniture not broken or knocked over.
An interior door on the right side stands ajar, offering a narrow view of a hall or small room, probably linked to the warehouse next door.

Something unseen bumps and rattles.

The doors of a tall cabinet across the room fly open and a man leaps out, a dagger clutched in his hand.
"I've had enough, you devils! No more skulking. You want me, come and take me!"
The plump man stands there in his stained doublet and breeches, drool dribbling down his stubbly double chin, the knife blade shaking in his extended fist.
"Aiiiieee!"

[alhoon]

Raen, second to enter jumps behind cover trying to get some distance between him and the agitated man. He is certainly not going to attack this man, as he seems to be much less of a threat than he thinks he is.
"Stop! We're not the enemy! We're here to help!" He shouts.
"We don't want you, we want to speak with you."
If the man calms down, Raen explains they're looking for master Quillan.

[ewancummins]

Raen, second to enter jumps behind cover trying to get some distance between him and the agitated man. He is certainly not going to attack this man, as he seems to be much less of a threat than he thinks he is.
"Stop! We're not the enemy! We're here to help!" He shouts.
"We don't want you, we want to speak with you."
If the man calms down, Raen explains they're looking for master Quillan.

The terror-crazed man shivers as if cold water had been dumped on him. He lowers the blade.
Slumping against the furniture in which he lately had concealed himself, he begins to speak in a lower tone, worn-out and tense but not hysterical,
''I am..I am Master Quillian's chief clerk, Drogo. I was left in charge when the Master evacuated. I was supposed to supervise the men closing up the warehouse...looters...the sea! Slimy weeds, I thought, but it overturned the boat and dragged poor Jamis down under the pier. Not by sea...tried the road west, but those evil creatures came for us. I returned here. Biscuits, salt pork, dried fish, wine, beer for the festival. Drank too much...''
His voice rises again,
''The green devils!--they broke in the back way, came and took away the others, but they didn't catch me. I hear the tapping, tapping TAPPING.''

[alhoon]

Raen looks at the priest near him
"Can you tell if he's delirious or infected with that strange disease, or it's just exhaustion and terror?" To Drogo he said "We had a brush with these monsters as well. We will prevail. Have faith."

[ewancummins]

Raen looks at the priest near him
"Can you tell if he's delirious or infected with that strange disease, or it's just exhaustion and terror?" To Drogo he said "We had a brush with these monsters as well. We will prevail. Have faith."

Drogo slides down the wall, landing on his rump. He continues his disjointed speech in a hoarse whisper,
''...black windows, black doors... the heats and damps...they grow stronger...''

[Adam]

"My assumption would be the latter," Bennedict replies, dropping to a squat next to the man. "Here now, enough of that blubbering. There's nothing to fear. We've defeated the creatures in town, and we're working to get rid of the problem for ever. So chin up. There's a good lad."

He hands him a hip flask to help fortify himself. As he does so, he channels a bit of his healing touch into the man.

"I'm a healer of some small magical skill. If you would allow it, I would like to try and restore some of the damage your exposure to the elements has inflicted."

[ewancummins]

"My assumption would be the latter," Bennedict replies, dropping to a squat next to the man. "Here now, enough of that blubbering. There's nothing to fear. We've defeated the creatures in town, and we're working to get rid of the problem for ever. So chin up. There's a good lad."

He hands him a hip flask to help fortify himself. As he does so, he channels a bit of his healing touch into the man.

"I'm a healer of some small magical skill. If you would allow it, I would like to try and restore some of the damage your exposure to the elements has inflicted."

The man ceases babbling and weeping, though he remains jittery,
''A healer? Magic? Why, yes, thank you! When the evil things struck, our priests and temples were attacked first. That is what Master Quillian told me, at least. I was busy with the accounts, but I knew something had gone wrong during the festival."

[Adam]

"The temples first. That is interesting." Bennedict mutters. "Did you get a clear look at any of the creatures? Those we've encountered resembled living plant-men."

[ewancummins]

"The temples first. That is interesting." Bennedict mutters. "Did you get a clear look at any of the creatures? Those we've encountered resembled living plant-men."

''Yes! Since the trouble began, I have seen more of them than I'd like! I've run and hidden from those monsters: weedy-looking little green men. I thought they were goblins, but one of the men had seen goblins in the old elfin woods, and he said no, they were something else...There were other things, shapes in the night...four-legged and two-legged. Beasts? Men? I don't know. And hideous laughter, mad screams from the Temple of Tymora...we'd hoped the goddess would aid us if we made a sacrifice there, but..."

[alhoon]

The mention of the temple of Tymora makes Raen a bit stiff. "We had a difficult fight in there. You need not worry about the creatures defiling the temple of the Goddess of luck." - because we burned it down he thought to himself. Surely, the Goddess of luck could not frown too heavily on a gamble they took would she? From that point on, it has been nothing but bad luck but perhaps that's coincidence. And yet, back home at least such acts would carry a stain that could permanently embed itself in the sinner's soul, a curse.

[ewancummins]

The mention of the temple of Tymora makes Raen a bit stiff. "We had a difficult fight in there. You need not worry about the creatures defiling the temple of the Goddess of luck." - because we burned it down he thought to himself. Surely, the Goddess of luck could not frown too heavily on a gamble they took would she? From that point on, it has been nothing but bad luck but perhaps that's coincidence. And yet, back home at least such acts would carry a stain that could permanently embed itself in the sinner's soul, a curse.

Senior Clerk Drogo scratches his double chin.
''May the goddess send us better luck, then!"
She drops his dagger to the floor.
"I feel more myself now and not tired, thanks to your healer. But I'm famished. It feels like worms are wrestling over bread crumbs in my guts."
He blinks and stares at Katrin, as if seeing her for the first time. ''Pardon the crude expression, mistress. I've been around these common laborers too long and I've forgotten..." His face droops into a sad frown.
"In the attacks...these nights, mornings...the green men took some of our workers captive, and carried off the men they slew, too. Into the town, headed west. I...I'm ashamed to say I wasn't much help. I'm not the only one who ran, but somehow I alone got away the last time, after we tried and failed to get out by water. Never knew I could move so fast!"
He laughs mirthlessly and hangs his head.

[Adam]

"Prisoners," Bennedict says, "Well that seems like a priority. Could you point us more specifically where they were headed?"

[ewancummins]

"Prisoners," Bennedict says, "Well that seems like a priority. Could you point us more specifically where they were headed?"

''I don't really know. Someplace to the west. If they kept on through town, it's all farms, woods, ruins out that way.''

'