GM post
Bidding goodbye to Hannah, who must return to Sandpoint, Rico leads the remaining mile along the dusty farm road that runs by Cougar's Creek to the sanatorium. The journey does not take long. Proceeding towards the towering limestone escarpment that the locals call Ashen Rise, a squat three-storied stone building nestled in the lee side of the cliff quickly comes into view - a stark edifice of sharp angles and walls of dazzling white against the mossy grey crags all around it.
This building before you, as a crisply painted sign by the road with a Pharasmin spiral burnt into the wood proclaims, is 'THE SAINTLY HAVEN OF RESPITE'. While there is nothing about the building itself that strikes you as particularly saintly, whoever maintains the grounds has done so with an almost religious fervour. The outer walls have been recently painted, with not a trace of creeping ivy or mold damp to be found, while the air is rich with the moist smell of freshly cut grass. The planks on the front verandah have been polished to a smooth finish from frequent scrubbing, with tiny potted flowers lined up against the walls adjacent to the front door. Just a stone's throw from the front door is a modest vegetable garden with rows of plump cabbages and various herbs ready for harvest. Someone has even taken the trouble to seed the path leading up to the building with a layer of gravel that crunches loudly underfoot as you tramp on it. If not for the notable fact that not a single of the various grilled windows facing you is wider than half a hand-span, it would indeed be quite difficult to guess at the true nature of the haven as a madhouse.
The wooden verandah creaks loudly in protest as you mount the steps and try the front door, which unsurprisingly enough, you find to be locked. Rapping loudly on the thick oak elicits a series of muffled clopping sounds from within, similar to calabash halves being knocked together. Before you can count to ten, the door is yanked open just wide enough to reveal the grouchy face of a bald tiefling with scaled snake-like skin and thick rope-like ceremonial scars running along the length of his pate. From the look of his starched grey clothing, he would appear to be an orderly of some sort.
The orderly peers imperiously out at the group of you gathered outside, eyeing Rico's watch garb up and down before reluctantly speaking in a low and sulky voice, revealing tiny sharp teeth that cause him to lisp slightly. "Apologies, ma'am guard. Honoured visitors. Doctor is very busy today. He does not desire to be disturbed. Please come back another time."
Perception DC 12 (no taking ten allowed)
Spoiler
Show
If you crane your neck, you notice another orderly calmly waiting just behind this one - another tiefling, who boldly stares back at you, his muscled arms folded across his chest. Those of you who were outside the General Store last night would recognise this orderly as the same tiefling 'boy' who had been accompanying Jubrayl Vhiski.