Sword Coast Rambling

Serak: Cautiously approaching the ordinary looking red door, Serak methodically searches for both mundane and magical traps. If he finds nothing, he'll attempt to open the door, picking the lock if necessary.

Perception: 19

Stealth: 15

Thieves' Tools: 24

The door creaks slowly and loudly open, coming to an abrupt stop mid swing. Unlocked. Inside lies in darkness, windows thick with grime and overgrown vegetation. From the other side of the threshold, Serak squints, trying to make out anything in the gloom. An old desk perhaps? A tall bookcase... a slumped figure in a chair sits in the centre of the room. The air is thick with dust which rushes outside as the door swings open. The room is silent, dark and still. 

Arkhan enters the room and inspects the man pushing his head back with a talon, "hmmph."

Pushing past Serak and with no time for formalities, Arkhan steps inside. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, the details of the room become clearer. The cottage is a simple affair, dominated by a long bookcase the stretches along the western wall. Beside it a neatly kept table covered in old manuscripts and scrolls, faded and rotted with time. Thin white cob webs and black dust covers every possible surface. The only other door in the room leads to the east, presumably into the tower itself. 

With a sickly crunch, Arkhan pushes the figures head backwards in its chair. An old man, gaunt and withered. A long white beard that once grew from his chin, now thinner and web covered. The man is dressed well, though his robes are now almost rotted away. Stepping away from the man, Arkhan spots a second figure, hidden behind the door, blocking its swing. This body looks much more like the zombies they had fought earlier - decayed and blackened. Protruding from its skull, a broken wand. Almost snapped in half, hanging limply in the air. 

Arkhan approaches the body with the wand and attempts to yank the wood from the skull. He will then examine it to see if it has any chance of operating as intended. Or if its just wood at this point.

strength check to remove wand from skull: 13
Arcana? check to examine the wands condition: 7

Syna entering the room, looks around.  There must be more to it...

6 

Serak: Breathing a silent sigh of relief that this tower didn't belong to a Lich and its pet Dragon, Serak examines the door leading east for traps while also listening for danger. If the coast seems clear, he'll attempt to open the door just enough to peak inside.

Perception: 9

Stealth: 8

Thieves' Tools: 19

OOC: After all those other good rolls, this will be the door that is locked and zaps Serak to death. Thankfully, no one will witness it due to his Stealth roll. lol

Arkhan strides across the room, eyes fixed on the broken wand. Wrapping his huge fingers tightly around the shaft he yanks it free, the dead body resisting slightly before returning to the floorboards. The Dragonborn turns the wand in between his fingers carefully. What was once a beautiful work of art, now sits broken and splintered. Long, twisted branches full of birds and fruit run along the length of the shaft, engraved into the wood. The shaft itself though is beyond repair, almost snapped cleanly in two, wood frayed at the join. 

Stepping inside, Syna paces around. Some years ago this would have been an impressive little cottage. The bookcase stuffed full of tomes of all topics - conjuration, geography, necromancy, herbalism, biology, history - though all faded and moulded from time. It strikes Syna that the back door only one of two doors into the cottage - the other being to the tower. He finds no sign of the riddled front door, despite his examination of the south wall. 

Pacing around he finds little else of interest. The desk covered in scrolls and parchments show no real consistency between them - old maps, mainly of the mountains to the north and the city of Neverwinter, a well rotted cookbook ‘Seventeen ways to cook Trollclaw Turnips’ opened on a page detailing the recipe for Trollclaw Stew, and a tiny empty notebook left neatly in the corner. 

The tower has left Serak on edge as he distractedly  examines the eastern door, secretly praying that this one is as dangerous as the last.  All seems clear at least. He rests a hand onto the handle and presses downward. Clunk. Unlocked. The door swings wide open freely. It’s hinges as rusted and loud as the last. 

Holding his breath in anticipation, the bard freezes, half expecting to be incinerated on the spot by another dragon. Inside is well lit. Without stepping inside Serak sees a winding stone staircase leading upwards to the roof, no more than 5 foot wide. The towers stone floor, littered with bones and straw, is blood stained in parts. Seems clear enough.

OOC:  just a heads up I have a bunch of family coming in for the weekend so I probably won't be able to get on and post much if at all until Sunday night/Monday morning.

OOC: No worries Beetle! Thanks for the heads up 

Syna joins Serek and peers into the room, listening for any sound

Perception: 17

Regardless, "I think we should probably search here very carefully before moving on.  Their may be a clue as to this murder."

Serak: Serak nods and quickly searches the room with the others, on the lookout for any hint of magic that might signal a trap, ward or glyph. With the room secure, the bard begins to piece together what happened here. Shuffling through documents and books, searching the bodies and closely examining the wand, Serak does his best to draw a conclusion...

Investigation: 18

Perception: 7

Syna goes to the bookcase, looking for something out of place or unusual in its construction or the book titles.

Perception: 14

Investigation: 16

Taking his time and care over the bookcase, Syna checks for anything abnormal. Regular books in a regular bookcase, nothing strange for a wizard to have in his personal library, although the old man seems to have a strange addiction with volcanoes and other natural disasters. Running his hand along the book spines, Syna notices a number of deep gashes carved into the leather, crusted with dried blood. Something, a creature of some sort perhaps, was thrown against the bookcase. 

Piecing together his own clues, Serak first examines the body lying behind the door. Lying face down, splayed out on the floor, it’s largely naked body is covered with thick black dust, still wet with rot. It’s hands clawed, skull split open from the wands impact. A zombie similar to those found elsewhere in Thundertree, though clearly less animated. 

With one eye on the zombie, Serak crosses the room to the old man. The mans face has not aged well, withered and gaunt, mouth agape. His robes though are most intriguing. These particular robes are usually only worn by those in the wizarding world. Light blue fabric similar to silk, tied at the waist by a thin white rope. Though they are badly rotting now, clear tears can be identified in the cloth, seeped in dried blood. The wooden floor beneath his chair is also stained red with blood, pooling neatly in deep grooves carved into the floorboards.

Though the rest of the room seems normal, both Syna and Serak come to the same conclusion. A struggle broke out here some years ago, resulting in the death of both the wizard and the zombie. Presumably the zombie died first, from the blow to the head, the wizard later from his injuries. 

Finally turning to the desk, Serak finds a single piece of parchment, on which is written a letter in elegant flowing letters:

"Who would use a wand as a weapon like this? No respect for the arcane. Barbaric."

Serak: Showing the letter to the party, Serak remarks, "It seems a volcano erupted and those that remained in town became undead. This wizard, Argor Argononinon, stayed behind to stop the zombies from spreading. It appear he fell victim to them instead, but at least we were able to complete his task, my friends! He may rest easy now that the last of them are gone. Perhaps a burial in his garden would be most fitting?" Serak rolls up the letter and places it in his scroll case.

Turning his attention back toward the Tower, the bard cautiously opens the door, doing his best to stifle the load creaking. Moving slowly and checking for traps, he enters the doorway and explores the area.

Perception: 18

Stealth: 14

The air inside the tower is cold. Light pours in through a large hole in the ceiling, casting long shadows as it strikes the crisscrossed wooden beams supporting the walls. A stone staircase runs along the inside of the tower, circling its way upwards to the roof. 

Stepping inside, Serak has a good look around, carefully on the look out for any traps. A strange acrid smell hangs in the air. For the most part the tower is disappointingly empty, though from the scattered straw it is clear a large beast has been spending a lot of time here. Then Serak spots it. Tucked away in a corner behind the stairs, an old wooden chest split wide open on the stone floor. Inside, a vast hoard of riches. 800 silver pieces, 150 gold, four silver goblets with inlaid moonstones and two ineligible scrolls that the bard can’t decipher. 

"What have you got there Serak?" Arkhan drops the wand and wanders over to the chest.

Crunching through the straw, Arkhan makes his way over to Seraks find. Ah the sweet smell of treasure. The Dragonborn smiles wider than he has in a long time. The coins chime playfully as he runs his fingers through them. Glancing at the two scrolls, he recognises the content immediately - both spell scrolls one for ‘Misty Step’, the other for one of his personal favourites ‘Lightning Bolt’. 

Arkhan smiles wide. "Ah yes, I know these spells well. None of you carry a spell book do you? I'm quite fond of this one here... it harnesses lightning in a way I one day wish to achieve... This other one is quite nice as well. It makes running away or getting out of danger quickly an easy task to accomplish. Not really my style... I might use it to get in someone's face faster. Would any one like it? And is there any objections if I take this lightning one?"