Contrary Mari, Part 2
Log Info
- Title: Contrary Mari, Part 1
- GM: Telamon
- Characters: Dirk, Dolan, Seyardu, Silmeria
- Place: Karda's Ford
- Time: August 16, 2023
- Summary: The party continues its investigation into the death of Mari, a witch executed for diabolism fifteen years ago. A story of tragedy begins to unfold, ending with the horrific appearance of the apparition in question herself.
- Karda's Ford, afternoon
Standing outside of Resnith's home, the air feels strangely cool despite the blazing late summer heat. After what Silmeria learned at the elder Resnith's bedside, it's no wonder.
Grigor Berkson, the young priest serving here, has a hard look in his eyes, though it's not directed at you. No, it's directed at what may be a crime fifteen years ago: the question of whether Mari really was consorting with dark powers -- or had been innocent. Standing out there, he takes a deep breath, marshalling his composure, before looking at the rest of you.
"Where to, sirs and ladies?" Grigor's blue eyes flash as he speaks. "I won't pretend I'm... not just as discomfited as you probably are."
Dolan, too, wears a hard look, the harlequin stare unnerving in its mix of caged fury and stark blankness. He's folded his arms across his chest, staring off in the direction of the rest of the town. "She was first accused by the mayor's son, you said, Speaker? That man still around? I'm thinking I'd be liking a word with him."
Silmeria had not shied away from telling the group what she had learned of the town's dark past, and how it pertains to the problem with the town hall, once out of wealthy earshot. Despite Grigor's assumptions, however, the Speaker seems to be perfectly composed. The specter of a crime is, after all, a vastly different proposition from the truth, and it's the truth that will guide her emotions.
Also her gun.
Drawing in a deep breath, she removes her spectacles to clean them. "Well... The hall's records will be the final piece, but there's more to be found before that, I think. And yes, Corona, that's what we were told... I'd say best to start with him as well."
The silver makari cleric readjusts her robes and her bag for a moment as the others collect themselves outside. "I understand your concerns, but we should not conclude that jumping is the best option without further information and testimonies." Seyardu nods. "Lady Silmeria has the right of that. Nor does that mean I desire not to investigate this further."
"If there are others we might speak to before heading to the hall of spirits, that sounds like a good idea to me. Do you know where they live, Grigor?" She adds with a nod before turning her attention back to the priest.
Dirk's expression is dour, having heard the synopsis from Silmeria. "Gods be good. That poor lass..." He looks quite ready to jump right then and there. Dwarves are nothing if not direct. Thankfully, there's cooler heads to rein in his headstrong temper. "Hrumph. Aye. I suppose we should get the other side o' the story. Then we can string the dozy git up by 'is thumbs an' leave 'im fer the ghosties," he grumbles. The thought that an innocent life was ended does not sit well with the old snowbeard. "But... wait a tick. Didn't ol' Resnith say the city council was involved? Might we need tae talk to some o' them too?" He looks up and around at his comrades, then plucks his hip flask off his hip. He lifts it to his ear, giving it a shake. "I'm nae sure I brung enough whiskey fer all that."
Grigor gives a rather sardonic smile. "Hmm. Hard to say. Keep in mind, the council -- four men, plus the mayor -- weren't young men to start with." He walks alongside you, thinking. "Tertlan passed during the wight invasion, as 'supposedly' did his son -- though I've been told the idiot got blind drunk and fell down a flight of stairs." He pauses a moment. "Actually... one by one, in the fifteen years past, they did all die... mostly of natural causes, but..."
He looks nervously at the party. "Could that be part of it? Once they were all dead, it... caused Mari's spirit to rise once more?"
Dolan's arms remain crossed, but now he turns his full face and body towards Silmeria. "Either that, or the ghost had a hand on it. I know more about fiends than I do about the restless dead, but some of 'em can be pretty damned vengeful, if they've got unfinished business. Some of 'em -" Here he stops, and a shudder ripples through him. "They ain't always think like you or me." He turns himself again, to get everyone within his view. "I'd hazard that she weren't ever really quiet. Maybe she ain't know how to move on."
"The restless dead are not my area of expertise, but I think that sir Dolan has the right of it, at least in some regard." The cleric nods again. "All of them passing away, it could be a coincidence, or it could be part of the reason for their passing, especially if they are a spirit capable of affecting the physical or mental health of that council."
"It saddens me to think of a spirit accused of actions ending up committing what they were accused of truly in death, but it cannot be ruled out. But we should still help, however we are able."
Dirk tugs at his beard, his shaggy brows furrowed in thought. "She's gettin' 'er revenge," he mutters softly. "The council. The mayor an' 'is son. Who does that leave? That's who she'll be goin' after next. I'd stake me beard on it." He draws a deep breath, looking back up at Grigor. "Unless it's the whole damn town she's got 'er grudge on." He taps his foot, glancing between his comrades. "Well. I do know a thing or two 'bout deadwalkers. Let me think for a moment. There must be summat we can do tae calm this lass an' send 'er on home."
"I'd be less surprised if the ghost had been causing the deaths all this time," Silmeria murmurs, considering. "Hauntings rarely conform to a type however, so... I suppose almost anything is possible? On the bright side, it can be laid to rest, at least. However..."
Turning to address the group, she replaces her spectacles back on her nose. "I cannot emphasize enough, the need to not write the story in your mind, before the truth is complete. We follow a fifteen-year trail, and even at the best of times a person's memory over that much time is faulty. Consider what we are told, but draw no conclusions. At best, we'll muddy the scent for ourselves. At worst, when we try to put Mari to her rest, we'll only inflame her anger."
GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/Religion+6: (2)+3+6: 11
Grigor sighs, "I... don't think she wants to lash out at the town. I think... she's hurting, but she can't get past what happened. If she could..." He looks at Silmeria. "She'd move on."
The group keeps walking, Grigor leading towards the town hall. "Believe me, Corona, I feel the same way. It's a damned mess, and we're left to clean it up. Karda's Ford does have good people in it, and--" He pauses, breaking off, as he sees three men in heavy canvas tunics and trousers at the gate outside city hall. And then he sighs heavily. "Even if some of them are less than competent."
From here, it appears the three men are doing some kind of augury or examination from a safe distance. One is holding out some sort of dowsing rod, a second is taking notes, and a third is inspecting a hastily-chalked protective ward outside the gate.
GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/religion+3: (13)+14+3: 30
"Silmeria's right," Dolan nods. "We ain't-" He stops himself, with a quirk of a grin. "We don't know much yet, and we haven't talked to her. We need to know what really happened. If we can work out what really happened, I suppose we'll know how to help her move on. See, you've got to remember," he goes on, nodding at Grigor. "People don't get tied up with demons because they want to, at least not usually. Most of them get sucked into it, and no few of 'em are suffering themselves. Pretty sure she's suffering, too, and we're trying to cut her a break, not punish her more. She's trapped."
He turns his head towards Grigor, having paused to watch the investigations. "Do you have your predecessor's old writings? There's surely something on this topic in those. No Sunguard worthy of the name is going to let a suspected demon association pass without any comment at all."
GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/arcana: (10)+7: 17
"Well, we should always strive for the truth, but what is important at the end of this all is that the town is safe, and the spirits are able to rest and move on to their resting places, wherever the grey halls deem that to be." Seyardu agrees, as she joins the group and wandering. "We can not always choose everything in our lives, but it is our duties to make the best of things, and help how we are able to make things the best they can be." They muse after a moment. "Sometimes that is helping the poor or community at large, though I find those often intertwined, other times it is helping others in order to protect further people. That would be good to know, if you have any of his records, or if they are held in the town hall, where they might be."
"And there you have struck upon the reason I joined this group," Silmeria says, with a wry smile. "Yes, it's vitally important that the town be safe, and the spirits restful. But if there is no one to speak for the dead, then there may be greater trouble down the line. Whether from Mari, or another like her. The truth must out and the lessons must be learned, or we -- or possibly others of the next generation -- will be right back here, doing the same thing, and accomplishing little. Until then..."
Silmeria trails off, peering at the chalk wards. "...Goodness what are they doing?"
Dirk fidgets uneasily on his feet. "This whole affair gives me the collywobbles," he grumbles. "An' I cannae think of a damned thing that might help us, aside from sittin' down an' talkin' tae the lass ourselves. Trouble is... what if she's nae in the mood fer talkin'? I've heard tales o' ghosts like that. They're so burnt up inside wi' rage an' hatred, they just want tae watch the whole world burn." He shudders a bit. "Gods, I hope she dinnae do that thing wi' the hair over the eyes. I hate when ghosts do that. Gets me every time."
"One of the newer councilmembers asked them to look into it -- without my knowledge." Grigor looks vaguely disapproving. "They mean well, but, ah... the haunting chased them right out of the town hall five seconds after they went in. Not the most auspicious sign..."
At this point, the man inspecting the ward (he's clearly not touching it) straightens up and looks at you, putting on a broad smile. "Ah, you must be the adventurers! And Vanguard Grigor, a pleasure as always." He runs a hand through his widow's peaked hair. "Vank Petrosin. These are my associates, Stainslau Reitz and Sven Egalroth. We're students and investigators of ghostly activity, trying to come up with better solutions for such." He pauses. "And make a little coin in the process, but one can't blame us for that."
Stanislau pipes up from where he's writing down notations, "Definitely a sixth-order manifestation! Too bad we didn't get a good look at it, it was... um... a little unfriendly."
GAME: Dolan rolls sense motive: (6)+21: 27 GAME: Dirk rolls sense motive: (18)+3: 21 GAME: Silmeria rolls spellcraft: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Dolan rolls spellcraft: (4)+13: 17
Dolan's arms find their way into a crossed position over his breastplate again, and his gaze turns towards the three and their ward. He snorts quietly to himself, an amused noise. "Leave them to it," he mutters to those around him. "Grigor, do you have your predecessor's writings on the topic?"
Seyardu does take a look to attempt to figure out what is going on, but the silver makari frowns after the fact. "I understand your desire to help and earn coin, but dealing with spirits is dangerous work. I would avoid being too close to here while we enter, in case anything happens."
"You did a good job with this ward, Grigor." Seyardu smiles with a somewhat unsettling smile for those unaccustomed to sith-makar. "It was made quickly, but not insufficiently. We should be fine to enter since it is made for undead, yes?"
Dirk squints at the three geist-dusters, headtilting slightly. "Hunh. So that's a thing, then," he says. He looks between the three with a gimlet eye, but decides it's probably best not to inquire what exactly constitutes a sixth-order manifestation. He might not have enough years left to him to get the full rundown. "Right. Well. You lads just keep on wi' what yer doin' then, but I'd kindly ask ye tae stay out of our way. Just in case things go pear-shaped in a hurry." He looks back over to Dolan. "We'll need tae have a care wi' those records. I hate tae think that the Sunguard would let 'imself be biased, but... well. Ye ken how we get when there's devils in need o' dustin', nay?" He turns his gaze back to the town hall. "Me instinct's tellin' me that Mari herself will have the answers we're lookin' fer."
"...A pleasure to meet you," Silmeria says, an extremely professional smile plastered to her tanned, freckled face. "It's quite rare that one finds fieldwork enthusiasts, I'd love to know how you've been getting on. And it sounds like your colleague has an-- extensive system of classification. Tobin's Spirit Almanack, if I'm not mistaken?"
So professional it's actually difficult to tell if she's tying not to encourage the trio, or trying not to sneer at them. Extremely, carefully, uninsultingly neutral, like a proper Vardaman. "When this is over, I'd be most happy to sit down and give you a full field report, in exchange for a copy of Stanislau's notes?"
This conversation, defintiely a side-show to what's going to be inside, and Silmeria is not one to waste the time of the unquiet dead.
The third man, Sven Egalroth, glances up, adjusting his spectacles as he shoots a look at the other two. "That would be most kind, ma'am. Vank, step to the right so you don't disturb the ward, we don't want your face melted off by accident."
As the trio carefully (and hurriedly in Vank's case) step aside, Grigor reaches into his robes and removes a journal, embossed with a sunburst. "I read some of it, but I suspect Haysden... may not have recorded everything. May Father Solis judge him mercifully." He offers the journal to Dolan. "Hopefully there are clues there to solve this riddle and give this soul peace."
Grigor then nods to Seyardu. "I will be renewing the ward as you go inside -- it needs tending anyways."
Dolan takes the journal, staring down at it before nodding. "The Sunlord got to him first, anyroad," he remarks a touch wryly. "Thank you, Grigor. We'll see what we can find." He tucks it against him, and looks around at the others, but settles first on Dirk. "I do, but the Knight commands us to seek justice. I want to know what he said."
He tucks the book up between arm and breastplate, and looks at the others, then. "Are we going inside?"
"It does seem that we are," Silmeria says, nodding, then turns to the three 'professional enthusiasts.' "Now, before we do, I'd like for you to tell me what happened when you were inside. And once you've done, I would like you to turn and watch the horizon for us." Eyes flick to Sven, and she tries to hide a smile. "You'll be looking for a twelfth-order full-body Golgothan swarm, moving to manifest around the town. But say not one word until you've confirmed it."
"Well then, that is a good idea. Thank you, Grigor." The cleric smiles again. "I think we should go in, and leave them to their work." She nods to Silmeria, waiting for the others before breaching the threshhold. If any of you have any preparations to make, now is the time. Allow me some to place some protections, just in case."
Dirk nods to Dolan. "Aye, I expect we shall," he says. "Silmeria has the right of it. Memory is a false witness. We need tae see what we're dealin' with ourselves." Speaking of Silmeria, her request of the geist-dusters has him perking a bushy white brow. He looks from the cleric, over to the trio, then back to her, then back to the three would-be postmortem investigators. "This should be good," he mutters under his breath. He rests his hands on his belt and relaxes his stance.
Stanislau explains, "Well, we heard a funny creaking, and then there was a horrible shriek. I was checking the door at the time and that was when Vank grabbed me and shoved me out as Sven was coming up behind." The mention of a swarm makes Stanislau's eyes go big. "TWELFTH? Holy-- Sven, Vank, we gotta go set up a perimeter!" He immediately hurries off, as Vank and Sven look at each other, then at Silmeria with arched brows.
Vank comments, "Alright. That? That was funny. But wrong." Sven adds, "Besides, Golgothans don't come in swarms anyways." The two of them follow after their overly-enthusiastic teammate, as Grigor watches, carefully concealing a grin.
"Well played, ma'am," Grigor says to Silmeria with a genuine smile. He reaches into a pocket, pulling out a large brass key and giving it to her. "This will unlock the front door." He pauses, then adds, "Good luck, and the Guiding Star be with you."
GAME: Seyardu casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 15 DC: 19
Dolan, too, watches them go, brown eye twinkling. He just about manages to keep twitching lips from doing more than twitching before they're out of sight and earshot, but when they're gone, a chuckle bursts from him. "Well done, Silmeria. Let's go." The journal gets tucked into his haversack for safekeeping.
Seyardu takes one hand to their holy symbol, and another is raised up in the air in a warding gesture. "Celestial mother, protect us from harm." the cleric growls, causing a chimerring field to appear in a bubble around the cleric, before vanishing. "I am ready now, if you are. I am sorry I can not provide more at the moment."
"Tobin is legendary among the orders," Silmeria answers Grigor and Dolan, grinning. "More keenness than studiousness, and had a tendency to follow his head right up his ow-- ahm. Yes. Anyway, that was slightly less informative than I hoped. Ah well... Perhaps Mari herself will be more inclined to talk, yes."
As Seyardu casts her protective blessing over the group, she pauses to bow her head in thanks and respect. Then, with the absolute poise of someone who would never ever send anyone on a snipe hunt, she falls in behind Dolan as the town hall is set for breaching. "I expect if all goes poorly, Hearthguard, we'll be desperately glad to have you, and Dirk."
Dirk watches Silmeria handily handle the spirit-handlers. His eyes get wide, and he claps a hand to his mouth. "SKNFFLFLFLFFPH!" is about all he has to say on the matter. He coughs and snorts through his nose. "Urf! Hurrk! Snrrrf! Och, pollen out here's dreadful, innit?" Smooth operator, that Dirk Stormgrip. As the three head out on their vitally important snipe hunt, he looks back to Silmeria. "Brilliant thinkin', lassie," he says. Can't be too careful with those dang snipes.
But now there's Seyardu invoking Mourner's protection upon the party. He puffs up his chest, reaching up and over his shoulder to pull his thunderbelcher. He gives the weapon an artful spin, catching it and racking the slide. CHK-CHAK! "I hope I dinnae have tae use this," he says. "But... it's time fer the lass tae find 'er rest. The rest o' this town cannae continue to suffer." He looks to the others with a firm not. "Right. Let's to it, then."
The key works in the door, and it swings open easily, giving the party admittance. Inside, though...
It's clear there were signs of a hurried exit in the main entry hall. An overturned chair -- a scattering of papers across the floor. And it's cold in here, colder than it should be, with the faintest hint of metal. Even with Seyardu's protective ward wrapped around you, it's clear this is a place laden under tragedy.
Faintly, far off, you can hear a creaking sound. It sounds strange, though...
The ward doesn't do much to ease Dolan's misgivings as he looks around the main hall, although he's still chuckling as he walks in. "Silmeria, if you can't finish that sentence, you have got to meet my wife." The papers catch his eye, and he strides over to them, kneeling down and picking a couple of them up. "Township business," he shrugs after a moment of reading. "Dated six days ago. About right for when they were chased out," he mutters. "She probably came after them."
Seyardu joins the others in entering the building, staying near the middle of the group to makes sure everyone was within the wards. "You think it was their presence which stirred her?" The cleric asks Dolan as she peers at the papers. "Is the business relevant, or just a catalyst for them being here?"
"Perhaps there is a ledger here somewhere, which may give us insight into where we should look? It is worth a try, in my opinion."
"Rather likely their presence," Silmeria murmurs, taking in the atmosphere as they creep through the hall. The creaking... is it a rope? Of the hanging variety, perhaps? And the metal...
Shaking her head, she turns a rueful look to the rest of the party. "It was going to have to be done sooner or later, but I think that if anyone knows where the proper documents would be, it would be the spirit herself. Do I have everyone's permission to make contact?"
Dirk glances around, eyes narrowed and head on a swivel. He snaps his thunderbelcher from left to right, stepping as quietly as he can. Considering his thickset weight, that's actually pretty decently quiet. "Sh-sh-sh!" he hisses softly. "You all hear that?" He perks his ear, trying to pin down the source of that creaking. "Beards o' me fathers, it's cold in here," he mutters. Coming from him, that's saying something--dwarves tend to thrive in colder climes. "Och, feels like I've got wee crawlies climbin' all over me..."
GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/Nature: (3)+17: 20 GAME: Silmeria rolls knowledge/local: (13)+12: 25 GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/nature: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/nature: (8)+2: 10
The creaking gets a little louder, and suddenly the temperature drops sharply. You all realize you're not alone...
There's a young girl here with you. Maybe sixteen summers if you squint, with brown curly hair. Her expression is blank, and a noose is knotted around her neck, her head cocked at that chilling angle that bespeaks death. She's dressed only in a sleeveless white shift, floating a foot or so often the ground.
And then her eyes lock onto you, and she screams, that horrific sound that bounces off the walls of the entry hall. And with her scream, you see in horror that lengths of skin are being peeled off her arms and legs, as if flayed by invisible knives.
Another horrible, heartwrenching wail -- and then she vanishes as if she was never there.
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (14)+11: 25
Dolan stiffens, and freezes at the vision of the woman before him - and maybe a little from the cold. It's the second vision, though, that really hits him hard, and he closes this flesh-and-blood eye, his fists clenching, hard. He crosses his arms across his breastplate, hard, and takes a deep breath and releases it, staring off into the distant reaches of the room.
Seyardu squints, struggling a bit to see the apparition in front of her. Their eyes going wide once they realized what it was didn't help, either. The cleric winces from the scream, only to recover somewhat as they vanished.
"That is likely Mari, to be in such a state, no one deserves that." Seyardu sighs. "We need to figure out how to help her on. Silmeria, can you glean anything from seeing them yourself?"
GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/Religion+6: (14)+3+6: 23 GAME: Silmeria rolls knowledge/religion+2: (19)+13+2: 34 GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/religion: (9)+9: 18
"...We know she was hanged," Silmeria murmurs, staring hard into the space where the apparition appeared, then faded. "So now I have to ask you, my friends... If a haunt like this is a memory of the moments of its death... why did she show us being flensed?"
Dirk's eyes get wide and his face turns white as his beard as he beholds the heartbreaking apparition. "Mari...?" He lowers his thunderbelcher and takes a step forward. But then, there's that horrifying shriek, and he staggers back. "HYAAGH!" As horrifying as that vision is, what follows is so much worse. He snaps up his thunderbelcher again, trembling in his boots. "MARI! WE'RE HERE TAE--" But then, she's gone, as if she never was. For a moment, all the burly old ranger can do is shake. But he gives himself a wrench, shaking his head hard enough to make his beard whip back and forth. "Blessed Lady, keep an' protect me," he whispers hoarsely. He looks up to the others. "Did you all see that...?"
His question dies off as he sees Dolan. The dwarf's expression turns from horror to panic. "Oh gods, no, not now," he whispers tightly. He trundles over, reaching up to put a hand on Dolan's shoulder. "Dolan! Dolan, lad! Come back, we need ye now!" he says urgently. The urge to shake the Corona is almost overpowering, but Dirk refrains. The last thing he wants is to deepen his dear friend's inner scars. He looks back to Sey and Sil. "They tortured 'er. Those clean-shaven shitpiles. That has tae be what happened. They skinned 'er ali--" He stops mid-sentance. His eyes go wide as teacups. Blink. Blink blink. "Wait. Wait wait wait one bloody minute." He looks to the space the ghost once filled. "Were... were they the demon cultists? Did they do this tae shut her up?"
"I'm here, Dirk. It's all right." Dolan lets out a breath in a rsh and turns to the others. "She's restless because what was done here wasn't fucking justice," he snarls, reaching into his haversack and pulling out the journal. "Now, I need to know what this says." He shakes his head one last time and opens the book, turning to consult it.
<OOC> Silmeria says, "TELAMON I WILL MURDER YOU. XD" <OOC> Telamon :D <OOC> Dolan chuckles. <OOC> Dirk says, "Did... did you just expy the Ghostbusters into Ea?" <OOC> Telamon says, "Maaaaaaybe :)" <OOC> Silmeria says, "HE VERY MUCH DID. XD"