The Haunting of Harrowstone

For a moment Kevin would consider throwing holy water at the children, thinking they were maybe demons in disguse. Thoooough on the off chance that they were NOT, that would end badly for him and just earn them more bad rep. Pointing towards his eyes with two fingers, he'd then point them towards the girl, then back again. He'd not say a word as he follows the rest of them, eyeballing the girls as if they were going to acting like a blast ghost when a plumber turned their back on 'em.

Noticing the lack of interest both Balta and Kevin seemed to have in regards to the little girls and their beyond dark nursery rhyme, Mille rolled her vibrant green hues before shaking her head. “I know countless nursery rhymes--I’m quite a fan of music and singing after all--but never have I heard of one such as this.” Turning to look at Valknar, the red-head continued. “It’s not the game... It’s the song they’re sing... Oh...”

Coming on the quick conclusion that there was a good chance neither the Cleric nor Cavalier actually understood what the girls were singing, Millie turned to point at the trancelike dance of skipping rope before translating their language in tune with the melody and beat; her voice naturally sing-song.

“...Put her body on the bed.
Take a knife and lop her head...

...Watch the blood come out the pipe...
Feeds the stirge, so nice and ripe.

...Drops of red so sparkly bright.
Splatters spell her name just right...

...With a hammer killed his wife.
Now he wants to claim your life...

...Tricksy father tells a lie.
Listen close or you will die...”

Pulling off her backpack from one shoulder, Millie slid it forward in order to dig out her cherished leather bound journal. Digging moments longer to produce an inkpen, she flipped open to a blank page and quickly started to scribble down what any could assume to be the words of the children’s song. Looking up once done, the pen poised an inch above her page as if prepared to write more, Millie turned towards the group of three once more.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to ask ‘em some questions! Maybe they could even point us in the right direction to the store as well~” Looking from Balta, to Kevin, to Valknar and then back again, she'd flash one of her more charming smiles as if to convince them this was an excellent idea. Which it was. Dammit.

Valknar enjoyed friendship, and the virtues of being surrounded by those he would swear by, protect, and honour. That doesn't, however, mean he's not a complete and utter dickass. He saw how Millie was so terribly unsettled by the girls, by their rhymes and dancing and merrymaking. He took a stop back, a knowing smile pulling at the corners of his beard

"Well? Go on then little lady, go ask them. We'll be riiiight behind ye."

His words were sealed with a friendly boot on the rear-end, encouraging her forward.

Upon hearing Millie's declaration of intent, Balta stopped mid-step. With a groan he turned about on his heel, wanting only to simply go to the shop and trade in some things. Talking to creepy little girls about their creepy little song didn't seem like it would garner much of interest. Asking a child where they picked up a nursery rhyme didn't seem like it'd get much more of an answer other than "ma' da' taught me dis, Ah tell hyu wot."

He took a place between Valknar and Kevin, arms crossed over his chest as he let Millie play the role of child interrogator. Bros.

[ In a nowhere tavern in a dead-end village, out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, Valknar is regailing a tale with his drinking buddies. ]

...There I'd done it. I joined up with the party o' strange humans. Kevin, our Cleric, the broodin' wallflower. He wa'nt so bad. Balta. Awkward twat of a man, but good in a fight. And Millie. Bit of a know-it-all, but she's got the most ripe pair of teats a dwarf could drown in!

( Uproarous laughter fills the table )

So anyways, the plan fer that fateful day was ta go to the store. Excitin' right? Well we gets in there, 'n' sittin' in that shop is most beautiful set of plate armour my eyes ever laid on. That's when I noticed 'em. A gaggle o' children on the second floor balcony, starin' down at us. I could tell they was plannin' something, the way they was starin' at me. So with a great roar, I sent 'em all packin' and pissin' their trousers!

Shopkeeper comes down with all the commotion. Of course, I manage to calm 'em down some. They was awful mad I scared their spawn like that.

So we get ta business, buyin' our things, and Balta, daft bugger, just starts starin' at the shopkeep. Expectantly. Like he just asked the man a question and was waitin' for the reply. Well, the shopkeeper jus' looks at the guy like he's barkin' mad and starts backin' up. Poor Balta just kind drags his feet out, head hang down like he just lost 'is testicles to a worg!

Anyways, so we get to this prison in due time. Bash down the door in seconds, and we're in through a side entrance! Well fuck me! It's a prison block! Rows upon rows of nothin' but cells. So I steps on in first, and the entire place starts lightin' up with activity! Every single cell is filled with skeletons! At least 5 to each one there was! Well the old cell doors, they couldn't handle that much pressure! Musta been at least 30 of them bony bastards that got loose! I was on the front lines of course. Musta taken at least 15 of 'em with me 'fore they overwhelmed me. Quick thinkin' on my friend's part saved my life, it did! They managed ta hold 'em off and drag me ta safety, half dead I was!

Balta just kept swingin' and down they went! From the other side, Kevin' 'n' Millie were in heated battle with the wretched things, Millie was tossin' out alchemical concoctions like I shell out money for booze! Kevin' was mendin' wounds and turnin' them undead, but they just kept comin'.

That's when I heard it. This hauntin' music. Chilled ya right to yer very soul it did. Amongst the army of skeletons, there he was. This ghostly figure workin' a flute. The Piper of Illmarsh, they called 'im as I found out later. Well my friends, they were frozen with terror, and the skeletons! They were comin' back! Well I dare say, if it wasn't for my quick thinkin' and my godly body, I mustered enough strength to drag all three of them out of there! Now don't laugh. We didn't run that far. We needed ta lick our wounds, we did.

So once we were rested, we headed back, and that's when things went bad...

". . .well, not too bad to be honest." Kevin said, looking around at the children who were all leaning forward, on edge and waiting for him to tell the rest of his story. He had taken on a job, in which he found himself looking after a group of kids for a family he knew somewhat. They had whined, bitched, and kept going on and on for something fun to do. So in the end, he figured maybe telling them about one of his tales would help ease them up.

Leaning back against his chain, he'd take a sip from his drink, before going on. "We went back in, this time prepared and ready to face what was inside. Upon entering, we made a dash for the piper at the end of the hall, since he was causing the most trouble for us. We took out our weapons--" The kids eyes would grow larger as he got to this part, so damn still one make wonder if they were even alive now. "--and had to face a few more skeletons. They weren't too hard, though when we got to the piper. . .well, that wasn't too easy."

"You see, the piper was not fully of this world, thus no normal day weapons would work on it--"

"B--but Kev-kev!" A child asked, the name causing an eyebrow to twitch. "Didn't you have a bottle of holy water?!" The kids started jumping, screaming he had it, as if telling him that now would help him in the story. A snicker emitted from him.

"Yes, yes indeed I did. Though I used another form of attack, by focusing my postive energy upon the creature. Millie was the one to use the holy water. Barta and the Dwarf covered our backs against the skeletons, aaaaaand then. . ." He'd pause for a bit, grinning as the kids wigged out, demanding he say what happen. ". . .we beat 'im!" He said with a grin."

"Did he go pop?"

"No, he--"

"Ohohoh! Did he go, KABOOM?!"

". . .no, WHY would he EXPLODE? No, he--"

"I know, I know! He went--" SPLASH!

Kevin would be glaring down at the last kid, as the other kids were cracking up at what the Priest had done to him. Having enough of their speaking, he'd of thrown the contents of his cup towards the child's face, thus silencing him as he was now soaking wet.

". . .he just faded away, back to the damned where he belonged." Kevin said with a light cough, resting back in his chair as the kid looked rather lost on how to feel now.

Deciding to wrap it up, he'd make a quick summary of the last bit. " In the end we started to head off, but ran into a few flying creatures. Nothing big, abooooout. . .big as our head or so. One latched onto Millie then our dwarf friend. Though we got them off quickly and beat them, we then head on off and went home to rest for the next day. . ."

Having arrived back at the Lorrimor Manor, Millie... Well, she wasn’t looking too good. Unlike the others, who scarcely took many blows at all, the young girl had gotten bit and sucked something fierce and to put it lightly, she felt horrid. Huddled close to the blazing fire in the grandiose drawing room, she pulled tighter the blanket she had around her before giving another shiver. Having lost a decent amount of blood, and hardly being a veteran with combat, she knew this would likely take a few days to ride out.

Catching sight of Wendy as she came over to deliver a fresh cup of hot tea, Millie perked up before giving the woman a thankful smile. “Much appreciated. If you’d be so kind however... Could you please fetch my journal, ink and ink pen, as well as my other companions? At their leisure of course, but should they inquire as to why...” Lifting the teacup up slowly, the Alchemist held it close to warm her cold self up. “We need to discuss our plan of action.”

Nodding, as if to confirm her words, Millie finally lifted the teacup to her unusually pale lips to sip as Wendy murmured her ‘Yes ma’am’ and started to make her way towards the door. Perking up instantly, as if suddenly remembering a thought, she’d wave towards the maid before she bowed her way out of the room and quickly added. “Oh, I almost forgot! Should they still be hesitant, do tell them there will be alcohol and refreshments as well. That should bring 'em, at least.”

The rather fancy and well stocked bar that accented the drawing room she was currently huddled in was hard to miss, after all.

The day had proven to be a trying one. A genuine threat faced the group for the first time. No giant, squishy bugs or belligerent townsfolk, no, the small team confronted an enemy fully capable of bringing their little quest to a sudden, anti-climactic end. While they initially found themselves overwhelmed, they quickly learned to adapt their tactics and overcome their trials with considerable competence.

Progress was progress, after all. Even their initial few baby steps were starting to add up to something altogether greater.

The cool, night air was crisp and refreshing as the group made their way outside. Wounded and drained as his companions may have been, the half-elf was spotless by comparison. Sure, his armor may have bore a thin layer of bone-dust, but overall he remained entirely unscathed. To him, the fight had been refreshing. The familiar rush of adrenaline, the way his muscles worked with lethal precision, it had been far too long since last he felt such sensations. Balta, thus, found himself smiling throughout the trip back to the manse.

Pushing his way inside, it was fully his intent to make for the kitchen, nab a bottle of rum, and proceed to get sloshed while taking a bubble bath. Thus, bottle in hand, and towel about his waist, the fighter stood enjoying a long pre-bath swig within the privacy of his room.

A soft rapping upon the door shook his focus away from the glass container. Without pause, or even bothering to cover himself further than his makeshift towel-kilt, the towering half-elf moved to answer the summons.

Balta saw Wendy for perhaps a second and a half before her face flushed red and she emitted a loud 'eep.' The poor woman averted her gaze to the floor, as not to stare at the fighter's tattooed upper half. "Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but... Lady Button... she... erm... requests your presence in the... drawing room."

The fighter seemed more amused than anything by the woman's emberassed demeanor. He had a rather desensitized view on matters of sexuality and bare skin, having spent so many years in the company of people with very liberal views on matters of the flesh. Thus, the reactions of more... innocent folk never ceased to make him grin.

"You may tell the good lady Button that if it's my presence she desires, then she shan't go wanting for long..." he replied, voice laced in a suggestive purr. The alcohol's influence might have made him a touch more bold. Might.

Then again, The Knave had always been a shameless skirt chaser.

Bath delayed for the moment, Balta set about slipping on a presentable set of clothes. Not forgetting his rum, he soon found himself making his way into the drawing room. Millie was there, though... she was sitting in an entirely non-suggestive, non-'I've been expecting you'-pose. Ah well. The half-elf fell into a nearby seat with a shrug, taking in one long drink from his bottle before offering a short greeting of "You wished to speak?"

Had been in a sleep deeper than any dwarven mine, cuddled up to an empty tankard that had soothed his wounds. When he awoke, there was a clammer of shouts, the sounds of something smashing, and Wendy came out, hysterical.

"THAT BRUTE THREW A CHAIR AT ME!"

It would seem likely that Valknar wasn't coming down, but after a rough 10 minutes, with Dwarf sullenly slunk out into the common area. He wore nothing above the waist, save an old, tattered tunic whore arms had been cut off. Grease and blood stains alike pock marked the off-white garment. Heavy bags settled underneath his bloodshot eyes, surrounded by a mass of pallid dwarven skin, which had been wrapped crudely with bandages of the night before.

No, there were no jolly hellos, cheers of merriment or jovial greetings. He shuffled over to the nearest oak keg, tankard in hand, and poured himself a drink. He'd make his way to the fire, slammed his arse next to Millie. Slooooooowly his head towards her, eyes flying past her in a thousand yard stare.

"-WHAT- do you want?"

While the others had gone off to do their own thing, Kevin would of gone to his room. His armor now off and merely in just a shirt and pants, he'd rub at his lower jaw, staring at the paper before him. Should he send another letter? Maybe he should wait on it. The ticking of a clock could be heard with how silent it was within him room, as the young cleric was wondering what was going on.

What he saw today was very much one found, when coming upon one who would wake the dead for their own biding. Was the town folks right about the man? He didn't come across as the type, but one may never know what one did when as rich as that man. It could of been a thirst for knowing what lay beyond the grave. He heard of such a thing taking control of good men before, wanting to restore a loved one from beyond.

Though. . .he didn't want to speak ill of the man with no proof, along with he had a gut feeling it wasn't the man. Maybe it was someone else? Though. . .hmmm. As he kept thinking to himself, he'd all of a sudden find himself feeling like an idiot. When the town folks had accursed the man of waking the dead, he had forgotten the biggest rule of all. . .asking for what reasoning and proof they had for it! He'd try to remember the face who made such a claim, knowing he'd have to ask that person and the others what caused such a claim.

As he kept on thinking, he'd remain in his room for the moment, not listening to if anyone was calling him or not.

Vosk glared at the group before him, his skin was sallow and stretched over his bones like too-tight shrink wrap. His eyes and mouth dry and desiccate. Had he really signed up for this? Was this why the dwarf left them? Those thoughts came and went as a sudden bout of nausea hit him like punch to the gut. He buckled over and groned.

Sod this. We're goin' back to the bloody mansion 'fore here. We're gettin' some bloody rest. Then we're goin' back. Any o' you berks got a problem with that?

He wouldn't have waited for a reply. He was in a particularly sour mood since he came into contact with the rot, and he silently prayed that the party cleric had the knowledge to free him from this torment. He stumbled out back from the room, and had made short work of the swinging shit-bridge of TPK. Here, in the comfortable surroundings tended to by unseen servant, he collapsed into the first chair he spotted.

Gods I wish I had a drink.