"Somewhere in the woods west of Ladrastir, there's a compound or fortification of some kind. At the...place it was discovered...it seems to have left enough of a trail for Leftenant to follow." She says, careful not to make direct mention of the Silvermane manor due to its strange psychological effects. "It could be alone, but I think it's best to assume it has minions of some form."

Glyptemis croaks sheepishly, saying "Umm.. this may be a long shot.. but you don't happen to have any old spell books.. tomes.. scrolls.. anything like that laying around? Probably not.. it's fine. The oil is fine... we can work with that."  His head sinks a bit into his shell as he trails off.

"My tortle companion raises a good point, sir.  Any such magical item might be of great use.  But as for the oil, begging pardon for my ignorance..."

Lyra glances at Leftenant and Kalamin, judging that the soldier and the knight have likely seen far more pitched battle than she has, then back to Davenforth.  "What is the delivery mechanism.  Some kind of pressurized nozzle, perhaps?  Or do we just chuck the oil at them, and light it on fire?"

“Alchemist’s Fire” the veteran speaks his thoughts. “We would use Alchemist’s Fire sometimes to deny areas to our enemies. Although most of the time it was delivered via siege engines. It should be possible to make it more easily deliverable though.”

Leftenant steps up next to the Songblade, “Besides tones of magic, being armed with information might help us. Researching these ‘old’ forgotten ways might illuminate our path as well.”

To Davenforth directly versus the general comments he was just espousing, “Anyplace in Vinande we might look for answers?”

Ilya's workaround seems to work - Davenforth shows none of the strange effects that come with mentioning the manor directly. "Normally I would recommend against assaulting a fortification we have no information on other than 'it exists,' but it seems we have little choice..."

"As far as magical items or ancient knowledge, I'm afraid Vinande is the wrong place to look. This village is a collection of old soldiers and warriors. You'll find no mages here." He says, shaking his head.

"Terryn should have your armor ready by now. And he can combine the oil with something that'll combust on impact, tell him he has my permission to use the storehouse for this. He'll be pleased at least."

"I understand, of course, yes... the combustible oil will be enough. Maybe I can use some of my own magic to.. enhance it. We'll see... I'll figure it out. Thank you, though! Anything you can give us will be helpful!"  

Lyra gives the tortle a wink.  "Necessity being the mother of invention, we know you will figure something out, Glyp."

"The sun has set and we have much to think on."  She sounds a soft chord on her dark harmonica and addresses the group.

"Who knows what terrors await Vinande tonight.  The sooner we sleep, the better the chance to be well-rested despite them.  Shall we search out Terryn about the armor and a means to combust the oil?  And offer him this sought-after chance to use the storehouse which Davenforth has granted."

Leftenant nods at Davenforth, understanding that he has other matters to attend to and believes the group to have been dismissed. 
“Shall we find Terryn then before attempting some rest until the horrors of the night set upon us?”

Lyra is playing her dark harmonica in a jaunty tune as she strides up to Terryn's smithy.

"Tell me, Terryn, is that wife of yours who you won't leave for me letting you off the leash enough to gear us up proper?  Few minutes ago, I heard Davenforth mumble something about full access to the storehouse for what we need from you next..."

Leftenant arrives just behind Lyra and is once again witness to the minstrel mistress’s merciless wit. The veteran blushes, not just for himself, but for Terryn as well. He’s hopeful that the smith will be able to sidestep the remark in a tactful way. 
Addressing Terryn a bit more directly, “Davenforth did mention allowing us access to the supply of oil…or Alchemist fire if you have such. We will need it for our next step in trying to correct the course of doom we are currently on.”

The smith barks out a hearty laugh, "Tryin' to get me killed aren't ya?" At the mention of setting things on fire, a devious grin plays on his face. "Ahh, I've been given permission have I? Good, been wantin' to see how this stuff would work."

He disappears into a room momentarily, returning with a small leather bag. Opening it up, he shows you 8 small glass flasks(Alchemist Fire for mechanic purposes), filled with some blackish liquid. "Be careful with it, contact with the air and it combusts quick like."

After handing it off he briefly goes back again, this time coming back with the armor he'd adjusted for you all. "Got this stuff done too. Should fit real snug now." He eyes the five of you for a moment, contemplating. "What're you off to do now anyway?" He points at the bag of alchemist fire, "Davenforth had me saving that for a bad night, surprised he let you have it."

Kalamin nods a thanks to the blacksmith as he takes the split mail, looking it over. "Fine craftsmanship, especially considering the situation you're in. Thank you Terryn." He wonders about how much they could actually tell the man. Although Garrick did say he kept no secrets here...

"Hopefully to put this nightmare to an end. We think we've stumbled upon the creature responsible. So we're going to kill it."

Lyra's mischievous grin in Terryn's direction softens into quiet seriousness and respect as she inspects the breastplate that the blacksmith presents to her with and nods her approval.  She doffs her old scale mail and hands it over in case it fits any of the Vinande guard who could use it in defending the town.

She stays well clear of the Alchemists' Fire, trusting the others to handle it.

As Kalamin opens up to Terryn about their quarry and the party's plans to destroy it in flames, Lyra does not object.  She merely listens and sounds a subtle chord, murmuring a poem of irony in destruction that flits in her memory.  Aye, kill it with fire.  Lyra's eyes flicker briefly black, like her harmonica.

The end may blaze with fire, or freeze with ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.
Yet if it were to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice, is also great... and would suffice.

The smith's eyebrows shoot up at your answer, "Is that so? I can see why he wants you to have the fire then." He collects Lyra's old scale mail, nodding a thanks to her. "Well...If you think of anything else you need before you head out, y'know where to find me. I'll see you in the mornin'." He says, and you notice a twinkle in his eye before he turns away.

You return to the quarters you've been given in Vinande - there's enough time left in the night to make any final preparations you may have. Meditations. Prayers. Plans. The night passes without major incident once more, as you're able to sleep throughout the entirety of it without the village's alarm bells ringing.

In the morning you gather yourselves and make your way towards the village's southern gate once more, where you find a crowd milling about. At the sight of you, the crowd of people bursts into cheers. At the front of it you see Terryn, leading the roar.

Garrick breaks away and meets you halfway with a grin on his face. "No secrets in this village, especially when you tell the blacksmith your plans." A young man follows behind him shortly after, leading five mounts equipping with hide barding. These aren't the draft horses you used the day previous - but riding horses, equipped for a fight. "These are the fastest horses we have, I hope you'll find them as useful as their owners have." Garrick says.

"For the first time since this began, we can see an end to this hell in sight." He looks as if he might be on the precipice of some great speech, but instead crosses his arms. "Get it done, and come back alive."

As you mount up, the crowd parts to let you walk through the gate, their cheers growing even louder as you go past. You kick your mounts into a trot as the gate closes behind you, riding out once more towards Ladrastir and to the woodlands beyond it where the horrifying Seidrach Karvas awaits.

Less than two hours later you're back to the empty town of Ladrastir. Whatever strange spell originally kept you from perceiving Silvermane's manor seems to have entirely lost its effect on you, as you can see the estate rising on the hill to the town's west...

(This would happen before the long rest)

As everyone settles in for the night, Glyptemis flips through his spell book, muttering to himself "fire.. fire.. which spell will help with fire.. ah!" he reads through a section carefully, practicing some hand motions a few times until a small ball of fire appears in the palm of his hand. He nods to himself, clasps his hand around it and the fire extinguishes. "Hopefully this will help.." (Glyp has unlearned the Booming Blade cantrip and learned Fire Bolt)

He puts the book down and takes out the mysterious puzzle box they found at the house and says "Okay, I think we can take care of a couple of these the easy way...". He holds it in his hand, rotating it carefully to each side as he casts Knock on the box twice, unlocking two more of the puzzles. He then spends some time trying to solve another puzzle on one of the two remaining sides of the box (following the previous mechanic from our DM, three INT checks were 8, 12, 17).

In the privacy of her own room Ilya takes the time to try on the armor gifted to her by the blacksmith Terryn. Admittedly she wasn't used to the concept, and initially she struggled getting the straps fashioned on her own. After getting it on, she's surprised at how well it actually fit. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less from him...Satisfied that she'll be able to get it on quickly again in the morning, she doffs the breastplate and prepares herself for the night's rest.

Once morning come, she readorns the new armor piece and gathers her belongings, included two of the flasks of Alchemist's Fire she took to hold on her own person. Traveling to the gates with the others, she shrinks at the sight of the crowd. Her entire life had been spent trying to avoid attention, this was a new and uncomfortable experience for her. "Thank you Garrick, we won't let you down..." She glances in the blacksmith's direction. "And tell Terryn if he does something like this again I'll bash him over the head."

As they approach Ladrastir, her eyes immediately go towards the direction of the manor. She casts a glance at LT. "Think you can pick up its trail from the Silverman Estate and follow it?"

The crowd around their exit from Vinande evokes old emotions in Kalamin, old memories. In his mind he was flung back to one of his first outings as a full knight of the Selenic Order. A mission with Thalia and Everan to Delanius, an old ruin left scarred by the experiments of ambitious mages. He recalled receiving fanfare similar to this upon setting out from the small elvish enclave threatened by the aberrations that spawned in Delanius. Everan had pounded his chest and raised his fist to the sky, shouting something...What was it?

As they mount their horses and begin to leave, Kalamin begins to grin. He remembered. That's what it was. He turns briefly to face the crowd, raising a fist. "For the Light and Land, to victory!"

Once they've arrived again at Ladrastir, he continues on towards the manor. "I do remember the old man taking the time to find something of a trail. In any case, it's our best place to start. If that doesn't yield anything, we know of some other locations those...Agents?" He wasn't sure what to call them "...Were staying at."

Glyptemis
The patterns on two sides of the box begin to shift and change just like before, and you hear a faint whirring from within the box. Try as you might to solve the next side however, you simply can't figure it out. You swear it looks different from before as well, more difficult, like it changed when you opened one of the locks.

"I know you won't." Garrick says, breaking into a grin at the young lady's frustration with Terryn. "I'll be sure to pass on the threat," he says with a laugh. As you're leaving through the gate and Kalamin turns to let out a rallying cry, the gathered villagers of Vinande roar the cry back. "For the Light and Land, to victory!!"

In contrast to Ilya, before Davenforth even begins speaking, Lyra is already circulating through the crowd as they depart Vinande, flourishing sparkling chords from her harmonica and clapping guards on the back in solidarity, her light brown eyes sparkling as she favors Terryn with a wink.

Just before Kalamin's raised fist and exhortation, the bard's melodious voice can be heard, soaring above the excited bustle and cheers of the crowd.

Five depart at dawn, astride the misty light
Yet on stands still, the town Vinande
To whom they pledged their solemn bond
Defenders at the gates, called once more to fight,
And await the five's return 'ere daylight's gone.

Upon nearing Ladrastir, Lyra too looks to LT to lead the way.

Leftenant nods solemnly, feeling uneasy to be back in this town where such disturbing acts took place. You move into Ladrastir, heading west towards the manor. From there the ranger takes the lead, searching for the trail he had found the day previously.

Survival: 7

He struggles however, and you spend an extra hour while he tries to find the trail of viscera and muck left by the aberrant creature known as Seidrach Karvas. Once he has the trail however, following it is easy. You're lead westward from the manor into woodland. The landscape is covered in trees, though you notice they seem to be in varying states of decay. Even the pines, which should be thriving in winter, seem to be wilting.

After a further hour of trekking through the eerily quiet woods, you come upon it: a high limestone wall, about a 100 feet in length. There is a gate that's been bashed open. Several bodies have been impaled upon the wall.