The Courage of Men

Session 2 Recap

From the Journal of Sister Carlotta Dumaine, Dawnbringer of Sarenrae

Freeday, 2^nd of Pharast, 4712AR – Night

I am sitting in my bed at the Lorrimor place nursing wounds received in the prison as I write this journal.  After collecting our wits in the bowels of the prison, we decided as a group to retreat back to the upper level and investigate there further before trying our hands at the bottom-most reaches of the ruin. It was obvious that the fire that gutted the complex started in this deep place, as the walls were blackened with soot and the charred remains of broken prisoners and guards alike littered the floor. It was a place heavy with sorrow and anger and I was happy to be rid of it after climbing up Aeros’ grappling hook.

On the main floor of the prison we headed north into an old furnace room. There we were assailed by some latent psychic energy which animated the old furnace. It sent gouts of flame our way, but luckily we were able to avoid being immolated by the haunt. With the combined efforts of my goddess’ divine blast and a clever use of one of the haunt siphons we collected from the false tomb, we were able to put the haunt to rest. Thayel found some charred bones inside the furnace and neatly tucked them into his pouch for purposes I care not to guess. He then tried using the Spirit Planchette to contact any unquiet spirits in the room. Luck was on our side. He located a spirit and avoided possession. The spirit named Vrood as the murderer of our dear friend the professor. Of course the name meant nothing to any of us, but at least now we have a clue as to who we’re after.

At that point fatigue began to set in and Aeros and myself suggested we head back to the village to rest. But the more aggressive members of our party, Gisley and Thayel encouraged us to go on a little further. That decision was very nearly the end of all of us. We entered a room to the west which seemed to be an old infirmary. Broken cots and wooden debris lay about the room, with bandages, and the odd rusted surgical implement lying amongst the debris. We could feel the air was heavy in here with suffering. Gisley’s glowing hammer illuminated most of the room, but the shadows were long and it was hard to make out exactly what awaited in the corners. A moment or two passed and we began to feel more at ease, letting our guards down.

Suddenly out of the blackness of one of the room's shadows a most grisly sight appeared. I can still see it’s skeletal face now even when I close my eyes. This incorporeal thing had the grinning head of a skeleton with long claw like talons and was draped in a translucent funeral shroud. Its mouth opened and it let out the most blood-curdling shriek. Protected by the faith of my goddess, I stood my ground, but was horrified to see Thayel and Gisley drop their weapons and flee the room. Aeros seemed fine, but when he noticed that the strongest members of our party had fled, he too made for the door, leaving me alone to combat the terrible phantasm. I called out to my goddess for aid and brought her divine light against the creature in a searing ray of positive energy. The creature screamedin pain, but did not whither from the light. Using some sort of magical telekinesis, it shot a pair of rusted surgical knives my way. They eluded the hard steel of my breastplate and buried themselves in the soft tissue of my shoulder.  I cried out and nearly fainted from the pain lancing up my arm. It was at that point that Aeros returned, no doubt feeling guilty about having left me to die at the hands of this undead creature. He pulled me to safety through the door and slammed it shut.

Thayel, having recovered from his initial shock had returned to us, but of Gisley there was no sign. We limped our way back out of the prison, chiding ourselves for risking too much too soon. At the prison gates we found Gisley kicking stones. He was overcome with shame at his retreat from the field, and swore that it would not happen again.

Once back in the village, we headed to the Laughing Demon to see if we could gather some more information. I asked a local farmhand if he had heard news of Feldrin, my half-elf escort, but alas he had not been heard from in three days. I begin to grow worried. If he does not return, I may have to make the trip back to Vigil alone. After a few drinks at the demon and a few annoying jokes from Zokar the proprietor, we headed back to the Lorrimor place, where I now commit these words to paper. Tomorrow, we will investigate in town further, though I fear some of my companions grow tired of these simple villagers. I suppose tomorrow night, we will once again brave the prison ruins, which we now know beyond a shadow of a doubt are haunted. After having garnered the name of the professor’s murderer, I feel we a starting to get on the right track and may yet solve the mystery. Yet I fear we are no closer to solving the mystery of why the haunts in the prison ruins have become more active as of late. I’m sure the two circumstances are linked, but the answers to how – or why, elude us for now.