"Even from the air... Pando can't seem to see beyond this area. The world shouldn't turn blurry like that.. especially with Pando's eyesight. Something is definitely amiss here."
Glyp takes the amulet and turns it in his hand a few times, then sits down to focus on it and cast Identify as a ritual. "Pando, keep an eye out while I look at this."
With a frown on his face, Kalamin looks down at the journal again, re-reading the day 13 entry again. "We were talking about an estate on the west side of the town, owned by a family named Silvermane."
It takes no small amount of will to stop himself from looking westward for the manor atop the hill. But after seeing what had just happened with Ilya, he was in no rush to tempt some mind-altering effect. As strange as this phenomena was, to him it wasn't even the most troublesome aspect of what the logs contained. "Have we been here before?"
"As I said, I saw it when a was able to focus and look carefully. A barren hill just to the west of town that seems to resist being noticed, as I believe you found out, Ilya. Silvermane estate from the sounds of it, and perhaps the epicenter of all this undeath, at least here in Ladrastir."
"The journal raises as many questions as it answers. The log implies that it is written by an Imperial soldier or someone who 'lied' and pretended to be one? A soldier who bears one of these cloaks that blends into the surroundings. And the elves, no doubt the red and white ones, along with 'Maghda and their catalysts' seem to be their enemy. The strange, grey leader of the elves used necromancy during the battle of our escape. Yet in that battle, why would Imperial soldiers have attacked us? So perhaps they are someone else, willing to pretend to be an Imperial soldier, but not?"
She pauses, at a loss for a moment, before continuing. "I do not wish to jeopardize our supply-gathering mission, yet I think we must investigate to the west if whatever foul magic is misdirecting us allows us to proceed that way. Kal or Ilya, can you divinely sense for undead once we are close?"
Sometime after Kalasks the question, "Have we been here before?", you inevitably find yourselves drawn to considering it. Did anything around here look familiar? A dense fog clouds your mind as you try to remember those lost days, Kalaminand Glyptemisaren't able to work through it.
But Lyraand Leftenant, you see flashes: a wrought-iron fence, and a grand manor sat atop a hill. You see a dark stone room, hear chanting, and feel blood running down your arms into a chalice.
Yelling. Fighting. Bodies being rended before you.
Kal shakes his head, blinking his eyes to try and dispatch with the fogginess in his mind. "I'm not terribly fond of having holes in my memory."The paladin mutters with an annoyed tone.
"But I think you're right Lyra, we need to give this place a look. And yes, as we get closer I can extended my sense out some."
Lyra plays a sharp chord on her dark harmonica to break the mood as a sudden suspicion sets in. Suspicion or dark realization. She swallows.
They're here. Those damn elves aren't even in disguise. Showed up in the middle of town with Magdha and their catalysts in tow. I feel sorry for the poor saps, I'd heard one was close to being recruited. Their eyes look lifeless, I'm not sure they're even conscious of what's going on. Marched them right up the hill to Silvermane's estate. Ritual must be happening tonight.
"No... oh no, no no... Were we... are we the 'poor saps' in the log? All of us except Ilya. Are we the catalysts? Lifeless eyes, probably not conscious. Marched up to the Silvermane estate. I have vague, broken memories of a ritual. Chanting. Torn bodies and blood running down my arms..."
Glyp finishes inspecting the amulet, running his fingers along the shape of it, and connecting with its magical essence. A ward against detection... would this have saved him? Would it have stopped the pale elves from ever taking him? It's probably not worth worrying about that now, but perhaps it could still be helpful. He pipes up "Is there.. one of us that the pale elves may be seeking after more than the others, perhaps? This amulet... it will stop them, or anyone, from finding whoever wears it. Though I'm not sure if it's much use if they could be looking for any of us... I'm not sure. But if someone wants it, here you go."
Leftenant diligently searches from one building to the next on his side of the street. He does his best to collect any items in containers such as baskets, buckets, or wooden boxes.
When he finds the promising alchemy shop, he spends a greater amount of time searching. Perhaps he finds a few small empty vials as well for his trick arrows? Either way, it is time well spent and he informs the others of his find as he carries the goods back to the cart. “A few healing potions and a couple of healing scrolls.”
The Ranger sets Glyptemis down next to the wagon when Kal hands the wizard the amulet. As Kalamin reads the journal to the group, the veteran rearranges the goods in the wagon to optimize its capacity.
Perhaps the old man was standing on the wheel hub as he worked, maybe he was percariously straddling the goods as he shifted items, but as the Paladin continued to read, Leftenant’s movements slowed and finally halted. Any who noticed would see him staring at the boxes, focused on Kalamin’s words. Unseen to those around him, wild images flash in his mind.
Silently, he adds to himself, “Madness in the town, Overwatch?, Silvermane Estate?, rising number of undead, elves, Magdha?”
As he emerges from the episode at the conclusion of the journal reading he climbs down and goes to stroke the draft horses. He listens to the others each in turn before adding the following.
“I believe we were those ‘poor saps’. I believe we have been here before, most of us anyways. I believe something terrible happened here.” He checks his arms and upper body for scarring as he continues. “I don’t think the wearers of these cloaks are imperial soldiers.” He politely corrects Lyra, “They aren’t a part of any unit I know.”
He pause here for a while, additional thoughts churning in his head.
Ilya shifts uncomfortably upon hearing the nature of the amulet. Quietly, she speaks up. "If none of you have use for it...I may find it handy. If you all need it for something else later I'd be happy to return it. But I've long suspected my own pursuers to be using divination magic against me."
On the subject of their kidnapping and this journal..."I think we should try and go to this estate then." Her experiences was different from their own. Whatever this was, they seemed to be directly involved in it. She could imagine if answers were so close, it would be foolish not to go find them. "We should still have plenty of daylight, and I'm sure Garrick would appreciate us cleaning up any threats that may remain."
Glyp hesitates for just a moment before giving the Amulet of Proof Against Detection and Locationto Ilya. She's newer to the group, but only slightly so, and seems trustworthy enough. "Of course! If you have even a little bit of suspicion that you're being.. divined on... then it's probably good for you to wear this."
She turns to LT as he confirms (not corrects) her suspicion that these were not actually Imperial soldiers.
"So we have a group of strange red and white elves led by unearthly undead-focused spellcasters who held us in thrall and turned us into puppets for over a month to take part unwittingly in their blood-soaked rituals. Opposing them are a mysterious cadre of infiltrators, dressed in these environment-blending cloaks, posing as Imperial soldiers, and until recently, led by a warlock of Amah's chosen Aurilith, who was then slain by their own patron, apparently to save us. It looks as if this second group were also defeated here at the Silvermane estate, as the log book does not continue."
Lyra tries to make sense of it all, then shakes her head. "To the estate, then," she murmurs. "Both our future and our past await us there, it seems."
“I am unsure if the timing aligns though.” Leftenant ponders. “Us being here, a fight at the manner, our transport ambushed six miles from here…”
“Perhaps members of this ‘Overwatch’ were here monitoring and attacked while another part were lying in wait in case…well, in case it was needed.”
To Lyra, “You aren’t alone my melodious mistress in your feelings and your memories. I recall pieces too, a wrought-iron fence, the manor, a stone room…the ritual, the horror.”
To Glyp, “I can’t say I care for it. But I actually agree with Ilya that she should use it. If either of these factions are actively looking for us, it doesn’t matter unless we all have one. It might actually help her help us by preventing one more group adding to the chaos we are embroiled in.”
As a general statement to all, “I think Garrick needs these supplies more than our need for answers immediately. I don’t suspect the ‘manor’ is going anywhere for a day. However, there still appears time left in the day and I won’t abandon others’ desires to explore.”
Moving towards Kalamin, “Can I see the journal for a minute? I might be able to ‘track’ its previous owner…possibly.” (Cast Tracker’s Intuition)
Kalamin hands off the journal to Leftenant at his request, "keep it if you wish. I have nothing else to do with it."
"Someone who's actually managed to perceive the damned place should probably lead us there. I suspect you might have to herd us like cats, since it seems to mess with our heads." He tries looking west, to perceive their destination. If its strange perception barrier proves too much for him, he shakes his head with a look of confusion, wondering what he had been trying to do. Otherwise he's more than happy to lead the way.
“I am unsure if the timing aligns though.” Leftenant ponders. “Us being here, a fight at the manner, our transport ambushed six miles from here…”
"Right. I did not mean the ritual happened the same night as the ambush that freed us, though it may have. Only that there seems to be a protracted conflict between these two groups, with us as unwitting thralls ("catalysts") caught in the middle. It explains, a bit anyway, why those pretending to be Imperial soldiers attacked both us and the elves on sight. I too remember the fence and the stone room, LT... "
Lyra looks around at the group. "I agree that Garrick and Vinande need these supplies and we risk much venturing towards the Silvermane estate to the west which seems to magically avoid notice. Against that, we must weigh the possibility of learning something vital, not just about ourselves but about the nature of this threat, if we are willing and able to explore the estate. My vote is that we attempt it, but I will bow to the consensus."
(Lyra is very, very good at Persuasion, yet she does not attempt to sway others unduly here, only to make a decision as a group).
It's nauseating, but you're able to look directly at the hill without passing over it.
LT
You briefly see a flash of the man who carried this journal. You're unable to see his most of his face, save the bottom half. You can see a long scar that splits his top and bottom lip. He's cloaked and dressed in dark materials, and you can see flashes of equipment and weaponry beneath his cloak. You also know it's been ~14 days since the journal was last touched by him.
You begin to walk further westward, traversing the empty town with ease. It isn't until you reach the edge of town that it really hits all of you: a sense of dread, a desire to go in any direction of than the one you're going. Lyra, Kalamin, and Glyptemis are able to face forward, but Ilya and LT find themselves looking away. Towards the sky, behind them. They have to be corralled a few times as they try to meander in a different direction.
The sensation in your head reaches a nauseating peak, and for a brief moment you lose all sense of direction.
Then it quickly washes away, as if you've passed through some barrier. Where there was bare hillside before you see a manor, surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The gate is open, and further in you can see that the west side of the structure has been burned away as well as a field next to it. There's a cobbled path leading up to the manor, which you take up to deck acting as a front patio. An ornate set of double doors marks the entrance to the wealthy home, one of them just slightly ajar.
Leftenant takes the journal from Kalamin and runs his hand over its spine and cover, eyes closed. “Reveal to me your owner.”As the few images appear in his mind, the Ranger describes what he sees. “A cloaked male, armed, face hidden but with a scar across both lips. He last held this…around 14 days ago.” He then stows the journal to add his notes to it later.
Leftenant was already apprehensive about seeking the manor but Lyra’s efforts convinced him to try. Though it was probably a trying effort to get him there. He’d wander perpendicular to the direct path at times. At other times he wouldn’t watch where his feet were placed causing him to trip and fall. At one point he became so nauseated with the trip he had to stop and retch for several minutes. But just as he was about to turn back and abandon the attempt, the fog clears.
As he tries to regain his composure, wiping the sweat from his brow he clears his throat, “Should we proceed cautiously then?”
Ilya frowns, glancing at Leftenant before pushing open the doorway. "I don't think anybody's home..."Despite her own reassurance, she is slow to step over the manor's threshold. Her eyes flare with golden light as she reaches out with divine sense, on the off chance something undead is hiding just beyond their perception as the manor itself had.
"A fortnight ago..." Lyra murmurs in her melodious voice, attempting use focused thought to stave off the unsettling effects of the strange warding magic.
"A fortnight ago, we were led here, all of us but Ilya, like sedated lambs to the slaughter, only it was not we who were slaughtered. We may even have done the slaughtering, if I can trust the disturbing, bloody snippets of memory I have of the ritual. Then fourteen days later, shackled in a wagon, being taken by the elves and their leader, perhaps this Maghda, south when more cloaked Imperial soldier imitators set an ambush, magically tear a giant rift in the ground, blocking the road before battle ensues, and the warlock of Amah's Chosen tries to slay us before being slain himself by... Amah's Chosen."
She shakes her head as if to clear it.
"Yes, LT, I believe we are ready. I think we must enter and seek the ritual chamber where the ritual transpired if we seek answers. Though let us scout the area first and proceed carefully. Perhaps Pando can help, Glyp? If any of you can sense the presence of undead or worse," she glances at Kalamin and Ilya, "we may need to do just that so we are ready for their onslaught. Though I sense, you are already ahead of me in this, Ilya."
Lyra herself tries to take a careful look around for any hidden threats or enemies. Perception: 14
As Ilya pushes open the door, you step into a grand hall, greeted by a marble statue depicting an entity with a vermiform body and a lion's head. A plaque at the bottom of the statue reads: "Desire is the measure of all things. Be unbound from moral tethers. Do as you will, to whom you will." The statue(and the walls and floor) are decorated with viscera and blood. The bottom half of a corpse sits near the statue - the rest of it appears to be...all around you, as if they simply exploded from the waist up. The smell hits you as soon as you step inside, the pungent stench of death and decay.
Two room's flank either side of the foyer, a dining room or something similar to the west, and through the eastern door you can glimpse wooden floors, book cases, chairs and tables. Two staircases upwards run along the walls of the foyer, and looking up you can see the wood banister of the second floor. Further in, there are cloth covered tables between pillars of stone supporting the second floor. At the end of the foyer is a triage of paintings, with a hallway leading down either direction.
Ilya
Your divine sense doesn't detect the physical presence of any evil entities...But the entire manor seems to radiate with a sickening evil. This is desecrated ground.
Lyra
In this space, there doesn't seem to be anything threatening.
"Even from the air... Pando can't seem to see beyond this area. The world shouldn't turn blurry like that.. especially with Pando's eyesight. Something is definitely amiss here."
Glyp takes the amulet and turns it in his hand a few times, then sits down to focus on it and cast Identify as a ritual. "Pando, keep an eye out while I look at this."
With a frown on his face, Kalamin looks down at the journal again, re-reading the day 13 entry again. "We were talking about an estate on the west side of the town, owned by a family named Silvermane."
It takes no small amount of will to stop himself from looking westward for the manor atop the hill. But after seeing what had just happened with Ilya, he was in no rush to tempt some mind-altering effect. As strange as this phenomena was, to him it wasn't even the most troublesome aspect of what the logs contained. "Have we been here before?"
Lyra's voice remains uncharacteristically quiet.
"As I said, I saw it when a was able to focus and look carefully. A barren hill just to the west of town that seems to resist being noticed, as I believe you found out, Ilya. Silvermane estate from the sounds of it, and perhaps the epicenter of all this undeath, at least here in Ladrastir."
"The journal raises as many questions as it answers. The log implies that it is written by an Imperial soldier or someone who 'lied' and pretended to be one? A soldier who bears one of these cloaks that blends into the surroundings. And the elves, no doubt the red and white ones, along with 'Maghda and their catalysts' seem to be their enemy. The strange, grey leader of the elves used necromancy during the battle of our escape. Yet in that battle, why would Imperial soldiers have attacked us? So perhaps they are someone else, willing to pretend to be an Imperial soldier, but not?"
She pauses, at a loss for a moment, before continuing. "I do not wish to jeopardize our supply-gathering mission, yet I think we must investigate to the west if whatever foul magic is misdirecting us allows us to proceed that way. Kal or Ilya, can you divinely sense for undead once we are close?"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Glyp
As you finish focusing over the amulet with Identify, you find it to be a Amulet of Proof Against Detection and Location.
Sometime after Kal asks the question, "Have we been here before?", you inevitably find yourselves drawn to considering it. Did anything around here look familiar? A dense fog clouds your mind as you try to remember those lost days, Kalamin and Glyptemis aren't able to work through it.
But Lyra and Leftenant, you see flashes: a wrought-iron fence, and a grand manor sat atop a hill. You see a dark stone room, hear chanting, and feel blood running down your arms into a chalice.
Yelling. Fighting. Bodies being rended before you.
And then the fog snaps back into place.
Kal shakes his head, blinking his eyes to try and dispatch with the fogginess in his mind. "I'm not terribly fond of having holes in my memory." The paladin mutters with an annoyed tone.
"But I think you're right Lyra, we need to give this place a look. And yes, as we get closer I can extended my sense out some."
Lyra plays a sharp chord on her dark harmonica to break the mood as a sudden suspicion sets in. Suspicion or dark realization. She swallows.
They're here. Those damn elves aren't even in disguise. Showed up in the middle of town with Magdha and their catalysts in tow. I feel sorry for the poor saps, I'd heard one was close to being recruited. Their eyes look lifeless, I'm not sure they're even conscious of what's going on. Marched them right up the hill to Silvermane's estate. Ritual must be happening tonight.
"No... oh no, no no... Were we... are we the 'poor saps' in the log? All of us except Ilya. Are we the catalysts? Lifeless eyes, probably not conscious. Marched up to the Silvermane estate. I have vague, broken memories of a ritual. Chanting. Torn bodies and blood running down my arms..."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Glyp finishes inspecting the amulet, running his fingers along the shape of it, and connecting with its magical essence. A ward against detection... would this have saved him? Would it have stopped the pale elves from ever taking him? It's probably not worth worrying about that now, but perhaps it could still be helpful. He pipes up "Is there.. one of us that the pale elves may be seeking after more than the others, perhaps? This amulet... it will stop them, or anyone, from finding whoever wears it. Though I'm not sure if it's much use if they could be looking for any of us... I'm not sure. But if someone wants it, here you go."
Leftenant diligently searches from one building to the next on his side of the street. He does his best to collect any items in containers such as baskets, buckets, or wooden boxes.
When he finds the promising alchemy shop, he spends a greater amount of time searching. Perhaps he finds a few small empty vials as well for his trick arrows? Either way, it is time well spent and he informs the others of his find as he carries the goods back to the cart. “A few healing potions and a couple of healing scrolls.”
The Ranger sets Glyptemis down next to the wagon when Kal hands the wizard the amulet. As Kalamin reads the journal to the group, the veteran rearranges the goods in the wagon to optimize its capacity.
Perhaps the old man was standing on the wheel hub as he worked, maybe he was percariously straddling the goods as he shifted items, but as the Paladin continued to read, Leftenant’s movements slowed and finally halted. Any who noticed would see him staring at the boxes, focused on Kalamin’s words. Unseen to those around him, wild images flash in his mind.
Silently, he adds to himself, “Madness in the town, Overwatch?, Silvermane Estate?, rising number of undead, elves, Magdha?”
As he emerges from the episode at the conclusion of the journal reading he climbs down and goes to stroke the draft horses. He listens to the others each in turn before adding the following.
“I believe we were those ‘poor saps’. I believe we have been here before, most of us anyways. I believe something terrible happened here.” He checks his arms and upper body for scarring as he continues. “I don’t think the wearers of these cloaks are imperial soldiers.” He politely corrects Lyra, “They aren’t a part of any unit I know.”
He pause here for a while, additional thoughts churning in his head.
Ilya shifts uncomfortably upon hearing the nature of the amulet. Quietly, she speaks up. "If none of you have use for it...I may find it handy. If you all need it for something else later I'd be happy to return it. But I've long suspected my own pursuers to be using divination magic against me."
On the subject of their kidnapping and this journal..."I think we should try and go to this estate then." Her experiences was different from their own. Whatever this was, they seemed to be directly involved in it. She could imagine if answers were so close, it would be foolish not to go find them. "We should still have plenty of daylight, and I'm sure Garrick would appreciate us cleaning up any threats that may remain."
Glyp hesitates for just a moment before giving the Amulet of Proof Against Detection and Location to Ilya. She's newer to the group, but only slightly so, and seems trustworthy enough. "Of course! If you have even a little bit of suspicion that you're being.. divined on... then it's probably good for you to wear this."
She turns to LT as he confirms (not corrects) her suspicion that these were not actually Imperial soldiers.
"So we have a group of strange red and white elves led by unearthly undead-focused spellcasters who held us in thrall and turned us into puppets for over a month to take part unwittingly in their blood-soaked rituals. Opposing them are a mysterious cadre of infiltrators, dressed in these environment-blending cloaks, posing as Imperial soldiers, and until recently, led by a warlock of Amah's chosen Aurilith, who was then slain by their own patron, apparently to save us. It looks as if this second group were also defeated here at the Silvermane estate, as the log book does not continue."
Lyra tries to make sense of it all, then shakes her head. "To the estate, then," she murmurs. "Both our future and our past await us there, it seems."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
“I am unsure if the timing aligns though.” Leftenant ponders. “Us being here, a fight at the manner, our transport ambushed six miles from here…”
“Perhaps members of this ‘Overwatch’ were here monitoring and attacked while another part were lying in wait in case…well, in case it was needed.”
To Lyra, “You aren’t alone my melodious mistress in your feelings and your memories. I recall pieces too, a wrought-iron fence, the manor, a stone room…the ritual, the horror.”
To Glyp, “I can’t say I care for it. But I actually agree with Ilya that she should use it. If either of these factions are actively looking for us, it doesn’t matter unless we all have one. It might actually help her help us by preventing one more group adding to the chaos we are embroiled in.”
As a general statement to all, “I think Garrick needs these supplies more than our need for answers immediately. I don’t suspect the ‘manor’ is going anywhere for a day. However, there still appears time left in the day and I won’t abandon others’ desires to explore.”
Moving towards Kalamin, “Can I see the journal for a minute? I might be able to ‘track’ its previous owner…possibly.” (Cast Tracker’s Intuition)
Kalamin hands off the journal to Leftenant at his request, "keep it if you wish. I have nothing else to do with it."
"Someone who's actually managed to perceive the damned place should probably lead us there. I suspect you might have to herd us like cats, since it seems to mess with our heads." He tries looking west, to perceive their destination. If its strange perception barrier proves too much for him, he shakes his head with a look of confusion, wondering what he had been trying to do. Otherwise he's more than happy to lead the way.
Perception: 15
"Right. I did not mean the ritual happened the same night as the ambush that freed us, though it may have. Only that there seems to be a protracted conflict between these two groups, with us as unwitting thralls ("catalysts") caught in the middle. It explains, a bit anyway, why those pretending to be Imperial soldiers attacked both us and the elves on sight. I too remember the fence and the stone room, LT... "
Lyra looks around at the group. "I agree that Garrick and Vinande need these supplies and we risk much venturing towards the Silvermane estate to the west which seems to magically avoid notice. Against that, we must weigh the possibility of learning something vital, not just about ourselves but about the nature of this threat, if we are willing and able to explore the estate. My vote is that we attempt it, but I will bow to the consensus."
(Lyra is very, very good at Persuasion, yet she does not attempt to sway others unduly here, only to make a decision as a group).
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Kalamin
It's nauseating, but you're able to look directly at the hill without passing over it.
LT
You briefly see a flash of the man who carried this journal. You're unable to see his most of his face, save the bottom half. You can see a long scar that splits his top and bottom lip. He's cloaked and dressed in dark materials, and you can see flashes of equipment and weaponry beneath his cloak. You also know it's been ~14 days since the journal was last touched by him.
You begin to walk further westward, traversing the empty town with ease. It isn't until you reach the edge of town that it really hits all of you: a sense of dread, a desire to go in any direction of than the one you're going. Lyra, Kalamin, and Glyptemis are able to face forward, but Ilya and LT find themselves looking away. Towards the sky, behind them. They have to be corralled a few times as they try to meander in a different direction.
The sensation in your head reaches a nauseating peak, and for a brief moment you lose all sense of direction.
Then it quickly washes away, as if you've passed through some barrier. Where there was bare hillside before you see a manor, surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The gate is open, and further in you can see that the west side of the structure has been burned away as well as a field next to it. There's a cobbled path leading up to the manor, which you take up to deck acting as a front patio. An ornate set of double doors marks the entrance to the wealthy home, one of them just slightly ajar.
Leftenant takes the journal from Kalamin and runs his hand over its spine and cover, eyes closed. “Reveal to me your owner.” As the few images appear in his mind, the Ranger describes what he sees. “A cloaked male, armed, face hidden but with a scar across both lips. He last held this…around 14 days ago.” He then stows the journal to add his notes to it later.
Leftenant was already apprehensive about seeking the manor but Lyra’s efforts convinced him to try. Though it was probably a trying effort to get him there. He’d wander perpendicular to the direct path at times. At other times he wouldn’t watch where his feet were placed causing him to trip and fall. At one point he became so nauseated with the trip he had to stop and retch for several minutes. But just as he was about to turn back and abandon the attempt, the fog clears.
As he tries to regain his composure, wiping the sweat from his brow he clears his throat, “Should we proceed cautiously then?”
Ilya frowns, glancing at Leftenant before pushing open the doorway. "I don't think anybody's home..." Despite her own reassurance, she is slow to step over the manor's threshold. Her eyes flare with golden light as she reaches out with divine sense, on the off chance something undead is hiding just beyond their perception as the manor itself had.
"A fortnight ago..." Lyra murmurs in her melodious voice, attempting use focused thought to stave off the unsettling effects of the strange warding magic.
"A fortnight ago, we were led here, all of us but Ilya, like sedated lambs to the slaughter, only it was not we who were slaughtered. We may even have done the slaughtering, if I can trust the disturbing, bloody snippets of memory I have of the ritual. Then fourteen days later, shackled in a wagon, being taken by the elves and their leader, perhaps this Maghda, south when more cloaked Imperial soldier imitators set an ambush, magically tear a giant rift in the ground, blocking the road before battle ensues, and the warlock of Amah's Chosen tries to slay us before being slain himself by... Amah's Chosen."
She shakes her head as if to clear it.
"Yes, LT, I believe we are ready. I think we must enter and seek the ritual chamber where the ritual transpired if we seek answers. Though let us scout the area first and proceed carefully. Perhaps Pando can help, Glyp? If any of you can sense the presence of undead or worse," she glances at Kalamin and Ilya, "we may need to do just that so we are ready for their onslaught. Though I sense, you are already ahead of me in this, Ilya."
Lyra herself tries to take a careful look around for any hidden threats or enemies. Perception: 14
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
As Ilya pushes open the door, you step into a grand hall, greeted by a marble statue depicting an entity with a vermiform body and a lion's head. A plaque at the bottom of the statue reads: "Desire is the measure of all things. Be unbound from moral tethers. Do as you will, to whom you will." The statue(and the walls and floor) are decorated with viscera and blood. The bottom half of a corpse sits near the statue - the rest of it appears to be...all around you, as if they simply exploded from the waist up. The smell hits you as soon as you step inside, the pungent stench of death and decay.
Two room's flank either side of the foyer, a dining room or something similar to the west, and through the eastern door you can glimpse wooden floors, book cases, chairs and tables. Two staircases upwards run along the walls of the foyer, and looking up you can see the wood banister of the second floor. Further in, there are cloth covered tables between pillars of stone supporting the second floor. At the end of the foyer is a triage of paintings, with a hallway leading down either direction.
Ilya
Lyra
In this space, there doesn't seem to be anything threatening.