Seeing the man struggling Han instantly lights the fire with a quick Prestidigitation then looks to the man. “Look we don't have time to dawdle here we have a boat but need the gate opened to pass. You can come with us this place is hardly worth staying in. I’m Han what your name and what happened here?” 

Bramble slumps against the wall with a sigh. He rips some of the fabric at the hem of his cloak and wraps it around the teeth-marks on his arm as a makeshift bandage.

Archibald settled in next to Bramble, looking at his bandage with curiosity. "Does that hurt?"

"I have never really... I mean, I've been beaten, but never truly hurt like that." He shakes his head, like he's ready to bolt thinking about it.

"And I thought the people were all gone? Who is this man?" He looks at the man during his tumble of questions. His youth shows through in how he flits from topic to topic.

Once they are all secured within the post, Branch takes a seat and watches the man as he speaks and moves around the room.  He is obviously comfortable in his space, and having them there was making him extremely uncomfortable.  She waits as he moves about, spouting random things, until he seems to have settled a bit talking to the ones that are wounded.  

Being one of the lucky ones and seeing that the others were taking care of their wounds, Branch speaks up, "Thank you, sir, for allowing us to escape to your room.  You are correct, we shouldn't have been wandering the streets, but you see we are because the gate is closed.  Our boat is on this side of the river and we are trying to get to the other side, but your gate is blocking us.  Would you be so gracious as to lower it for us so we can leave this place?

"I am sorry, I have forgotten my manners, my name is Branch, and you are?  Also, who is this matriarch you speak of?  Are you two the last in this city?"

"I'm alright. Thank you, Archibald," Bramble murmurs, giving him a reassuring smile through the pain. He then shifts his gaze to the man, waiting to see how this stranger responds to the questions of his companions.

Having forgot his manners, Chatcho leans toward the pot with his antennae outstretched, taking in the scent of their dinner. Chatcho very nearly drools over the food before pulling back, mindful of his venomous saliva.

"Da zer."

Aluve takes in the haunting surrounds. Who would choose to stay here? He thought to himself. The man has clearly been affected by this place, he must have had deep mental scarring from the things he had witnessed. Aluve walks over and stands next to Branch who he spots trying to talk with the man. Aluve was curious to find out what was going on here.

A frown, flooded with confusion, plants itself stubbornly on the man's face as they talk of ships, and gates, and leaving. "N-no, no, n-n-no." He repeats, haltingly, several times, his attention fading for a moment until it is just a muttering, formless, grumbling that escapes his lips. Then, coming too again, his voice returns, still repeating the phrase as he focuses on Branch. "...n-no, no. No. The m-m-ma-matriarch is n-not he-here." He moves about the space some more, as crowded as it is he has to squeeze past people to get to his belongings. He slowly continues his preparation for the meal he seems sure they will be taking. "Sh-she sen-nt us. Mu-st c-close th-th-the g-gate." His focus begins to wane once more, the words coming more slowly, and holding less meaning. "Yes. C-close th-the gate. Sh-she said n-no m-more. N-no more de-de-dead. Th-th-there is-is danger. N-not all wh-who tr-travel..." And then it was gone, though a sorrow that he might not even remember plagued his face.

He stands motionless like that for a time, before the sorrow lifts and the confusion creeps in again, and then that lifts and is replaced by worry. "Y-y-you mu-mustn't leave!" He blurts out, suddenly more awake and alive than they'd seen him previously, as if jolted by an electrical shock that sent life and memory flooding back through him. He looks between Branch and Hanson, recalling the questions they'd asked some time ago. "Th-they will b-be back s-soon, th-they can h-help you with the... w-with the... the..." The pause is momentary, but as telling as the others, "t-the gate! Y-yes, the g-gate. Y-you must r-rest n-n-now. Th-they wi-will b-be back soon, a-and we w-will eat. Y-yes. Th-the str-street is u-uns-safe, r-rest now." 

As they get accommodated in the room, two things make themselves evident. A new ladder in surprisingly well-kept condition, and a hole in the ceiling to the next level. The party did not explore the ruin outside of town in depth, so the exact location of the gates controls are unknown to them, but they're certainly not on this level. That said, it may be as equally unwise to spurn their host's generosity, as it could be to wait for whoever else would supposedly 'be back soon'.

Bramble sighs. "Wouldn't mind resting bit before we set out for this gate..." He says as he sniffs at the stew. Deciding it smells okay, he takes a bowl.

Branch nods at Bramble, "Hey, if you want to rest, stay here.  If you and others can possibly distract this um, interesting character, I'm going to try and sneak up to the next level.  Maybe I can get an understanding of the controls?  I'll see what I can figure out."

She gives the others a look when the caretaker isn't watching trying to indicate her plan, and then when the man's back is turned, she attempts to sneak up the ladder.  As she heads up, she sees the water in the pot and smiles casting shape water to make the water in the pot freeze, hoping that will help distract him!

Stealth 26

Time is an ocean in a storm.

Last Night: Chatcho meditates while the party sleeps. A revelation.

But if you watch the clouds you may glean the illuminating light of the sun.

Seventeen Seconds Ago: In the visions Chatcho was here and there. For this to work, Chatcho needs to be standing there.

Chatcho uses his Portent roll of 4 to replace the caretaker’s Perception roll.

Aluve, wanting to help with distracting this man, brings his arm around his shoulder and subtle turns him away to face the other direction.

"My friend since we are going to be resting in your company, I was wondering if you would help distract me from this haunting city. I am ranger and have been collecting stories from my travels through the wilds. Would you be so kind as to let me share some of them with you? I hope to one day have them published. It seems you have been in this place for quite some time, perhaps it will be an escape for you as well as a great help for me...even just for a few moments. You can then share these stories with anyone wish....come sit with me....here, take some of this. I don't have a lot left but please friend enjoy." Aluve pulls the flask from his cloak which still has a small amount of spirit left and hands it to the caretaker. The ranger then begins spinning tales of the forest and wild places.

Roll Performance: 15 + 1 = 16

Curious about the what is hopefully the gateway mechanism he uses Prestidigitation faint musical notes coming from outside the door they entered through and tries to climb up after Branch. 

Stealth: 5

For not the first time this day, Branch loses her focus at the most critical of moments, scraping the leg of the ladder against the floor as she picks it up and moves it into position. Despite this, the caretaker seems entirely enthralled by the several things happening around him. Not least of which is the suddenly frozen meal, and Aluve's wonderful stories, or so the man keeps telling him in that halting, struggling voice. Their tall insectoid friend seems to be up to something, too, but the exact nature of his contributions--alien as they are--escape them.

And then she rises to the next floor, followed swiftly by Hanson. Beds meet their gazes, simple woodwork frames and straw mattresses, but like everything else in the city--even the man downstairs, to some respect--they are rotten to the core. A damp, musty smell fills the air, and three skeletons await them, laid to rest with care in three of the beds. What was once a door awaits them on the far side of the room. It still, vaguely, resembles the shape but it has long since rusted clear of its hinges, and now only lies limply against its frame, waiting for but the smallest of nudges to push it over, if not destroy it. Beyond, the pair can just barely spot the first steps of a staircase, leading to the third level.

Archibald isn't particularly concerned with the sneakers or distractions. Too many questions come to mind. "Who is this matriarch? Who are you? We can help. No one should be left behind in a place like this."

Branch smiles at Han when she sees that he is accompanying her up to the next level.  She covers her mouth as she sees what’s awaits them on the second floor.

 She moves quietly through the beds, looking over them and the skeletons as she passes seeing if anything catches her eye but not disturbing them.  Once she gets to the dilapidated door, if she can’t squeeze beyond it without touching it, she will gently as possible move it aside so she can get to the stairs, looking to Han for assistance.

Aluve continues to keep the caretaker busy, when Archibald appears and fires some questions off. Aluve hopes is time spent with the caretaker has helped settle him enough to try and get some answers from him. "Hey my friend, I have so much appreciated the time you have spent with me listening to my stories thankyou so much......this is  friend Archibald... he has some questions that you could possibly try answer for us? Take your time, I am sure I can spin another tale if you need to think about it some more."

Bramble keeps an eye on the stairs, waiting for Han and Branch to return. 

Slowly making their way ever upward, the stairs creak under their weight and threaten to give way. But, for all their protestations, the stairs hold and the two of them make it to the third floor. Like the first floor, this room is cramped, and hard to get around in. This time, though, it is not filth and other people that hoard the free space, but machinery. There appears to be a furnace buried in some kind of container, a number of iron levers and valves, a windlass that holds a length of thick chain, which extends out a hole in the wall. Through the hole, they can see the rest of the net that blocks their path. There is another staircase leading to the next level, but it has been destroyed, either deliberately or by the ravages of time.

===================================================================================================================

Some way through Aluve's stories the man loses his focus again, no longer paying attention. When it returns, and the two of them ask their questions he answers readily, if unhelpfully, "T-the Ma-Matriarch. Y-es. She l-l-leads the pe-people. S-she sent u-us to c-close the... c-close th-the g-gate. Th-then we g-go ho-home." He looks around, as if searching for someone. A brief look of worry crosses his face, but then he relaxes again. "O-once t-th-they c-come, w-we c-can close th-the gate, a-and g-go home. Th-they will c-come so-so-soon. R-rest now."

Archibald looks to Aluve and shrugs, unhelpfully.

"Maybe we can just bring him with us? We might endear ourselves to the locals if we bring him back, instead of them having to come look for him."