Runelords 2E IC

[DrK]

As you all poised on the threshold the voice grows in intensity like a roar in your minds. "I am the one named Malfeshnekor, worshipped as a god by those pathetic goblinoids and venerated by the mad Nualia. I have been in here for many years I would be free..." As you can still nothing in the flame lit shadows Lysander spots the glimmer of gold, much of it partially covered in the firepit and ripe for the taking!

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 43/47 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None

---------------

Liars, cheat and conmen: they don't usually give a straight answer and this Malfeshnekor seems to be cut from the same cloth; in a way it is amusing to discover that in the old Empire people were not so different. Still, the part about "treasures" seems to be true, there's gold shining just up ahead...
...but this fellow might've been caged for a truly good reason. "Damned Mayor." the sellsword curses, tore between greed and caution "Fine, you want out of this place. Understandable, but two questions: what's in it for us - you say 'treasures', but that could mean lots of different things." he asks the disembodied voice, raising two fingers "And the elven lady here asked you what is going to cost us. I want straight answers now, otherwise we just go out and leave you here to twiddle your thumbs."

[stack]

Malfeshnekor does not sound like the name of a good creature...

Spoiler

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religion is +3, pretty sure nature doesn't apply, everything else...

[Farmerbink]

Jannis visibly shudders as the disembodied voice assaults his thoughts. "Behind a ward, on an ancient abandoned... island? Protected by artifacts of old? Sought by Nualia?" he half-breathes. He shakes his head vigorously to the negative. "I don't think this ends well for us," he murmurs, glancing around with eyes like a cornered rabbit.

His words take on power as he takes in the flame-lit room. "Lysander, I have stood by your side thus far, and won't leave now. I think Nualia was not the most dangerous creature here."
+1 will save for Lysander

Spoiler: OOC

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Soooooo, worshipped by Goblins, eh? That sounds a lot like the monster figure in that post (#591).

Spoiler: Jannis

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Jannis Sotheby
M NG Human Cleric, Level 3, HP 35/35, Speed 25
AC 17, Fort 8, Ref 7, Will 11, Perc 11
Composite shortbow +7 (1d6+2 Piercing) deadly d10 (Emblazon Armament) (affixed potency crystal: 1/2)
Spell attacks +9 (damage and type varies)
Sickle +7 (1d4 slashing) trip, agile
Dagger +7 (1d4 piercing) versatile slashing, agile
Abilities Str 10, Dex 14, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 18, Cha 14
Conditions
Divine Spells: Cantrips: Divine Lance, Forbidding Ward, Guidance, Read Aura, Shield
Soothing Words (0/1 focus)
Bless 1/2
Magic Weapon 0/1
Heal 2/3 (2d10)

Using my focus spell to cast Soothing Words on Lysander, granting him a +1 to imminent will saves.

[DrK]

Jannis, Jon and Shalendra recall the pictures upstairs of a god-like goblin thing devouring humans, and also some of the mad mutterings in the writings about a spirit here from the "ancient times" and they realise that this must be such a thing. Although none of them realise what this creature is you do all know that this creature is a thing of evil.

For Lysander it hisses in his mind again. "GOLD... I have as much GOLD as you can carry mortal and then more afterwards. Gold is easy to find and if you desire it you may have power as well as riches. You can rule a nation in my stead with all the wealth and mates you desire. Merely shatter the wards on the door to free me.". As he mentions the wards on the door there is a faint crackle as if something has hit an invisible field of force and all over the walls and over the door there is is a ripple. All the brave heroes of Sandpoint can now see the runes etched onto the door frame, although the stone is old and crumbling and could be easy to destroy

[farothel]

Shalendra looks at the others and shakes her head no. She's not going deal with this unless there's a way to blast it into little pieces.

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 43/47 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: Dueling Parry, Soothing Words

---------------

Wealth beyond measure and power, all merely for some minor vandalism of something that is so old it would not last much longer anyway. So Lysander moves towards the wards, sword in hand, and squints trying to find something "You know, I was a guard in Magnimar before moving to that cesspit that is Sandpoint." the sellsword says to everyone and no one in a somewhat chipper voice "Met my fair share of scum - damn, Calistria be my witness, I was one of them. First rule of a con, find someone who wants something for nothing, then give them nothing for something." Lysander keeps talking, sword slightly tilted just in case he has to parry a sudden attack "I mean, if you offered me a chest of golden sails or some magical trinket, I might've even taken my chances. But to rule a kingdom, all my desires sated? Just to break some stones? Whoever you are, you are a fool as much as Nualia."

Spoiler

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Action 1 - Stride towards the wards
Action 2 - Seek (Perception +9, corebook says it's the DM that should roll it) to find whoever caused the ripple through the forcefield
Action 3 - Dueling Parry

[farothel]

When Lysander moved up with his sword ready, Shalendra spoke a few words in Draconic to raise her shield, just in case he saw something she hadn't. And she then cast detect magic to see what magic was going on here.

[stack]

Jon shakes his head, "Mayhaps we best leave. And maybe collapse the tunnel back by the door."

[Farmerbink]

Jannis blinks several times, keeping his peace. After a time, he murmurs, "I see no reason we should release this ancient evil. Should he lie in rest for another millennia, it would yet be too soon to break these seals."

[DrK]

Lysander advances forward towards (and I'm assuming not across) the wards but cannot see anything, although the room does carry a faint musty smell within it. For Shalendra as she looks outwards with her magical senses she can see the bubble of ancient wards, cracked or thin in places but still holding. The voice hisses more angrily, nearly a scream in your minds "Break the wards you fools. Break the wards lest I destroy you in my wrath you filthy worms..." more mental curses and screams and howls follow but almost incoherent and in a strange language that none of you recognise

Are you retreating and locking down the cavern?

[farothel]

"I don't think we're going to do that," Shalendra said, as she looked around for the location of the wards and a way to block this part of the location without breaking the wards in the process.

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 43/47 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: Dueling Parry, Soothing Words

---------------

"Agree, let's leave him here." Lysander says, snorting out of frustration for not seeing anything that might give him some clue about the entity filling their minds with words "But I would not collapse anything here, might break these wards. Better to hide the entrance best we can, we could use all the rummage in Thistletop to do that."

[stack]

"Good thinking." Jon turns to head out, considering a parting jab at the voice, then thinking the better of it.

[farothel]

"I wanted a more permanent solution than to put some random crap in front of the door that other people can just as well remove," Shalendra said. She had seen people in Hymbria who would go through quite a lot of junk to free a voice like that, especially if it offered good stuff.

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 43/47 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: Soothing Words

---------------

"Well, it worked until now." Lysander shrugs, not really keen on meddling with ancient magic "Besides, I'm not saying we just hide this entrance and hope for the best. We could share what we found with Father Zantus and Mayor Deverin - they could send word to people more knowledgeable about the Old Empire." the sellsword throws a sideways glance inside the room "But hey, if you find a solution that doesn't include us getting butchered by an ancient monstrosity, I'm all ears."

[farothel]

"Not like this," Shalendra said, "but that Father you mentioned and the mayor could probably send some stone masons over to brick up everything down here. That should do the trick. We just have to make sure one of those doesn't break the wards, but we can do the bricking up a bit away from here.
Maybe we can best finish looking around and then we can head back."

She started looking for anyplace they hadn't been yet.

[Farmerbink]

Jannis eagerly retreats from the room, needing no further encouragement either from condescending ancient evils nor swordsmen too clever for their breeches. "We could collapse the fort above, and bury this place under tons of stone and wood. Leave no trace that civilization ever existed here..."

[DrK]

Screams and howls echo in your minds as you back out the room closing the doors. Shalendra, Jon and Jannis unable to see how they can interface or interact with the wards, the wards being sufficiently powerful and ancient as to defy your understanding. Leaving and looking around you realise that the easiest way to block this would be to close the coin door and then collapse the corridors and stone to block the way down to this lower level, although doing so would require more mining equipment and people so may need you to head back to Sandpoint.

Heading back upstairs the sun and salt air from the sea welcome you as you re-emerge into the courtyard breathing in the air and enjoying the sun (and ignoring the smell of dead goblins)!
With Nualia dead and the goblin threat shattered you have saved Sandpoint!


Well done you have Leveled up! And also Finished Book 1

[DrK]

It had been a busy few days and when the heroes return to Sandpoint they are greeted by Mayor Deverin, Sheriff Belor Hemlock and Father Zantus. News of what you have achieved at Thistlepoint soon spreading throughout the town as everyone rejoices that the goblin tribes have been shattered and dispersed, Chief Ripnugget dead and Nualia, the architect of the attacks on the town dead now... On that last point Zantus shows his dismay, sad that the lost daughter of his predeccessor has caused so much trouble.

Later as you rest in the Mayor's office Kendra bids you sit down. "We owe you thanks beyond what we can measure. Not only did you help save so many when we were attacked you have diffused that magical horror in the bowels under the glassworks and now shattered the goblin tribes so heavily its unlikley they will be able to rebuild for a generation. I know you have spoken of some demon in the bowels of Thistlepoint but Hemlock can deal with that." At that Sheriff Hemlock leans forward and nods his head. "Yes Kendra, we'll send a load of the lads up in the next few days and bury it under tons of rubble. From what you have described we should be able to collapse that lowest basement floor and render it unusable. We have also posted guards now above the tunnels under the Glass works."

Kendra Deverin

Kendra nods and smiles. "Ah yes.. on that. Please I have someone I'd like you to meet," She gestures to the door and it opens to reveal a small bearded old man with a thin wispy white beard and thick reading glasses. "Some of you will know master Brodert Quink. He is the towns foremost expert on Ancient Thassilonian artifacts."

The old man smiles and nods. "Ah, thanks to you mayor and thanks to you you fine people. You have done well to save us from the green menace and that poor deluded woman. Sad that so nice a girl has fallen so afar." he coughs and clears his throat a few times cleaning his glasses nervously. "But now.. on the Runewell, a wondrous thing from the ancient ages, a Runewell attuned to Wrath I believe. one that may have led to the unpleasentness a few years ago."

"Where to begin..." the old man took the lenses from their perch on his nose and set to fastidiously cleaning them, his earlier distraction having eased a bit with the prospect of a willing audience... "So much about ancient Thassilon is unknown or is merely conjecture at this point. For all their ruins dot this land, little is known for certain about the mighty empire upon who's bones all of Varisia is built. Our ignorance is, of course, fostered in large part by Earthfall and its aftermath... when an empire is collapsing in fire and blood few have the good sense to keep detailed records for future scholars like myself." There is a twinkle in his eye as he replaces his glasses which gives you the impression he is speaking only half in jest.

"We do know that the empire collapsed at least seven millenia ago though I personally suspect it was closer to ten. And we know something about its rulership - the Runelords as they were known and their 'seven virtues of rule', rumored to have been handed down to them by some greater benefactor..." he gestures at the stone tablet on the table with its elaborate seven-pointed star before listing them from memory, "Generosity, Love, Humility, Temperance, Gratitude, Compassion and Industry... whether each of the seven Runelords gravitated towards those virtues by choice or had the virtues were assigned to them after the fact is unclear, but what is clear is that over time, as they grew in power and wealth, they descended into corruption and avarice, and those cherished virtues they represented became perverted into what we now know as the seven great sins of the soul - Greed, Lust, Pride, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath and Sloth."

Sitting up, the old man reached to pour himself some more tea, meticulous as he measured out a dollop of honey to stir into the steaming cup.

"I trust you are at least passingly familiar with the traditionally accepted schools of magic? Those traditions were defined by the Runelords who held to no such limitations, but rather allowed their individual natures and particular interests to drive their research... much less was known of magic in those times, much less and in some ways a great deal more..." he trails off for a second, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he absently sipped at his tea... musing... before stirring himself with a start and continuing.

"Our schools of magic were predominantly founded by what we learned of that age, each following the precepts laid down by one of the Runelords and the discoveries or advances each in turn had made. Now this isn't something widely discussed outside of magical academies - where such history is deemed both necessarily pertinent and potentially embarassing - but supposedly it aligns in thusly: Conjuration magic, attributed to Krune, the Runelord of Sloth, summons agents to serve a wizards will, allows one to travel great distances without taking a single step or fabricates some item or substance without the labor one would normally have to invest. Enchantment magic, attributed to Sorshen, the Runelord of Lust, focuses on subverting or outright dominating the thoughts and emotions - indeed the very will of others. Transformation magic is attributed to Karzoug, the Runelord of Greed and pertains mostly to enhancing the value of items or individuals, subjective value that is, as the wizard himself perceives it. Necromancy, interestingly enough, is attributed to the Zutha, Runelord of Gluttony - perhaps because of his never-ending hunger for the pleasures life held, and his all-consuming desire to extend that life indefinitely that he might experience them all. Illusion is given to Xanderghul, the Runelord of Pride, as so often that's all pride is - self-deception and the consequent deception of others in order to maintain the facade. Abjuration magic was attributed to Belimarius, the Runelord of Envy as he sought to supress the magics of others, all others, except that of he and his agents. Evocation magic, the most overtly destructive of the schools, is naturally attributed to Alaznist, the Runelord of Wrath whom was known to have harnessed powerful energies, raw and unrefined, in order to wield it against others. Now Divination magic is the lone school not attributed to a particular virtue or sin, nor to any Runelords... there are theories that such magic was suppressed at the time, perhaps by the mysterious patron the Runelords were beholden to, perhaps by the forgotten Goddess Lissala who saw true knowledge as the only real power... mayhap it simply wasn't considered a serious pursuit or each of the Runelords pursued it equally... remember, the schools as we know them now didn't exist at the time, they were predominantly formed in reaction to the Runelords advances in the magical arts and what little we know of them today."

Brodert took another sip of his tea, musing...

"Now we know something of the Runelords themselves but not much. The Runelord of Wrath - Alaznist - ruled the very land upon which we sit, once part of a nation known as Bak-ra-khan. Most of it perished beneath the waves - we are in fact just on what would have been its eastern edge. I suspect what we uncovered in the catacombs below the town would have been some sort of forward base, complete with stores for a siege and interrogation chambers for captured spies or enemies of war. In truth, that all but confirms my suspicions about the Old Light - collegues in Magnimar and elsewhere have scoffed, but I believe it used to be much, much taller, actually one of a series of flumes along the eastern border which served as a primary line of defense against Shalast to the east, capable of harnessing great energies and projecting them at range. In fact, the map we discovered showing the boundary between the two kingdoms seems to have the exact placement of those flumes shown on them - Torabor is going to be absolutely livid when I show him!"

The wizened Sage's grin breaks, his pleasure evident, before continuing on.

"Shalast, incidentally, was the domain of Kourzog, the Runelord of Greed, and whether the two nations were constantly at war or instead suffered a long series of seperate wars in succession is another debated point, but there was no love lost between the two, of that you can be certain. Sad to say, that is as much as we know for certain about those two of the seven, and less if known about the others. Sorshen, the Runelord of Lust, we know that she ruled a region south of here, beyond the Yondabakari River, a kingdom called Eurythnia, most of which has also been lost to the sea. There are suggestions that she played the two of them, Alanzist and Karzoug, against one another, and may have been the clandestine source of much of their strife... but that is really just conjecture. For the other runelords, we have names and precious few tidbits besides. Most of the rest of what I could tell you would be theories, not all of which I agree with. I do wish that thrice-cursed Sheriff would have allowed me more time to study the catacombs. Those documents we recovered were damaged almost beyond repair but I did manage to get some sketchings of the writings on the walls... and the likeness of the statue. The statue! You know, if I'm correct that might be the first surviving known image of the Runelord Alanzist! I'm going to have to contact some of my collegues in Magnimar, see what pressure can be brought to bear to reopen those chambers... perhaps bring the Pathfinders in on it; I'm loathe to let those meddlers and grave robbers in on it and have them tramping around down there, disturbing my work, but they do have the political connections and resources to get things done."


"At any rate, regarding the catacombs that were uncovered - what I found most intriguing was how much of the upper level was devoted to the temple of Lamashtu; up til now I've heard no mention of a connection between the Mother of Monsters and Alanzist, or any of the Runelords for that matter. At the time, the region was consumed with the worship of Lissala above all others... it could be that Alanzist was in league with the Goddess or at the very least petitioned her for demonic aid in her machinations. Powerful as they were, the Runelords were not above seeking allies where they could be found - Sorshen was rumored to favor intelligent undead like vampires and to have made pacts with demons like the succubi. Karzoug allied himself with dragons and is also believed to have even created entire races to serve him, such as the so-called 'Rune Giants' to serve as shock troops in his armies and the Faceless that could change their appearance at whim to serve as his spies. It is a connection which will demand more study, I think."

As he rambled on the Sheriff coughs loudly and cuts off the old man. Brodert looking at him crossly. "Now Brodert, these brave heroes are tired. But I think it can be summed as to that we may desire your assistance lest there may a resurgence of these old magics. The ancient Lighthouse of Old Lady's Light lies on the coast to the South and it may be that my militia may need assistance in cleaning out the tunnels. Would you be willing to help?"

As he speaks Kendra looks at Lysander, as if knowing what is going through the mercaneries mind. "Obviously we will pay you well. You have our thanks already and we offer each of you a bounty of 20gp to say thank you. In addtion whilst you remain here please take rooms at the Rusty Dragon. Amieko has inisisted she look after you and between us we will cover your room and board. Father Zantus has also suggested that if you are injured in your service to the town he or his devotees can help wth your injuries. So what say you? Will you remain her longer to help look after our small town?"

[farothel]

"I don't really have anywhere to go at the moment," Shallendra said, not adding she couldn't go back to Kyonin for quite some time, "so why not. It's been quite interesting so far."

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 60/60 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None

---------------

Lysander musters all his willpower not to yawn at Quink's lecture on Thassilonian magic, almost failing more than once so that at times the sellsword grimaces and frowns and makes some weird faces to stop himself from showing how much he's bored. Besides, the threat at Thistletop is no more so it's not like he'll even need to worry about the ancient Empire ever again, right?

However the mercenary feels a bit too self-conscious when Brodert Quink talks about the seven sins of the soul: even Lysander can't really deny he has not always been the most virtuous of individuals, even though he certainly does not consider himself in the same league of Nualia or Tsuto. These thoughts stay with Lysander long enough that when Mayor Deverin finally talks about the reward, the sellsword doesn't haggle and just nods and gracefully accepts the gold offered "Thanks. And sure, I'll hang around for a little while." he says with a smirk - he had planned to stay in Sandpoint regardless: Thistletop is definitely good publicity, he accrued some goodwill in the town, Jannis is a bit naive but has been a good enough friend and he intends to woo that kind priestess he met when the goblins attacked.

[stack]

Jon does his best to follow the history lesson, though it is outside his normal expertise. "I will stay and lend my aid. With the goblin threat diminished, I will not likely be needed elsewhere for a bit."

[Farmerbink]

"I'm sorry, Master Brodert, but I've never been the best student..." Jannis blinks several times as the sheriff interrupts the lesson. "Is there a shorter version you could give me sometime? Again?" His eyebrows furrow in an apparently genuine effort to focus, but Jannis misses most of the lesson, if not all.

"I'll have to ask Father Zantus, of course, and ma'n'pa. They prolly won't mind- plenty of younger siblings to help run the farm the last couple years anyway. But if I'm headed off on some other adventure, Father Zantus will have to have his say." By the end of the comment, Jannis is grinning widely. Clearly, something about their travels and trials so far prompted a change in the unassuming young man.

In a word, he's hooked. And eager for more.

[DrK]

The next 2-3 days pas peacefully as you are able to rest in the charming town of Sandpoint. Staying in the (almost) finest rooms in the Rusty Dragon Ameiko takes excellent care of you wth fine food and beer on tap and there is a constant supply of local villagers coming up to congratulate you on saving the town (and their lives in the process). Some like the now friendly Ven Vinder (the gruff store owner) or Ibor Thorn (the tall balding owner of the mill) have come along to buy a mug of ale, others like the fat and gaudily dressed Cyrdak Drokkus (owner of the theatre) beg you for the tales of Thistlepoint and all the details for a show he'll perform later that year. Your days are spent doing whatever you want before the evening is mostly filled with ale, food and the same tales again.

feel free to look at the downtime rules for transferring runes or buying/ selling stuff etc...

Its the fourth night after you've returned, when sated by a great feast of spice lamb and paprika spice potato you are suddenly awakened by screams and shouts from downstaors. A bellowing racket at the doors and what sounds like one of the town guard bellowing for the "Murders! They are all dead, get Jannis, Lysander and the others. Sheriff wants 'em as fast as possible."

[stack]

Jon enjoys the time of local celebrity, but in small doses. He spends much of his day out in the wilderness; too much time in town would wear on him. Having a friendly inn and fine meals waiting for him when he returns is certainly a pleasant development, of course.

The shouting interrupts his pattern; Jon rushes to see what is the matter.

[Bunny Commando]

Lysander - HP: 60/60 - Conditions: None - Active Effects: None

---------------

Last few days have been good to Lysander - he asked the elven lady to use her magical knack to upgrade his sword, told the story on how the party has freed Thistletop more times he could readily count (but carefully avoiding any mention of the misterious entity down there) and gave every member of the group a fair share of the glory and asked Alexis, the kind priestess he met, out for a date. Yes, life has been good so far and Lysander truly hoped it would last.
Of course, fate had something else in store for the sellsword.
When a guardsman starts screaming his name at the Rusty Dragon, Lysander opens the door in his undies but sword in hand; he's still a bit drowsy, but his killer instinct has been triggered and seems ready to fight. Slowly, the mercenary goes downstairs and speaks to the guard with contempt "Keep your voice down! You're just spreading panic right now!" that said, he looks around to see if the others are awake as well before asking the guard for more information "What is happening? Are we under attack? Goblins again?"

[Farmerbink]

More than anything else, Jannis finds the sudden attention immensely uncomfortable. He reliably downplays his role, exhorting others instead. After spending one afternoon back home on the farm, he sullenly returned to the Rusty Dragon and for the first time eagerly partook in the ale bought by- well, somebody. Just before returning to his room (they're nicer than anything acolytes are allowed to sleep in at the cathedral, that's for sure!), one of the townsfolk finally cajoles the "latest buzz" out of him.

"Cedric thinks I'm some kinda super-person!" he complains, referencing one of his younger brothers. "Sayin' I coulda stopped the Chopper, and nonsense lie it! I'm just a man like anyone else!" A few minutes later, close listeners might hear him mutter "Fool boy's gonna get hurt if he tries to be something he's not..."

Only a few hours later, Jannis is stirred awake by all the shouting, and hurries downstairs, bow in hand. He rushes to the guardsman, hurrying close and calling upon Erastil's favor to magically help the man regain his composure. "Easy, man. Nothing gets better when you're too hurried to think. Who's all dead? Where's the sheriff?"

[farothel]

Shalendra had set up shop to transfer the runes from the weapons they had gathered towards their own weapons. It had taken some time, but it was something she had done before and it was a fairly simple thing, although it did take time to do it properly. She didn't have much time to party during the days, but she did take time to rest and to have some good food.

"Indeed, keep quiet," she said when the guard came in while she was having some snack after having completed the last rune transfer. She had been working quite hard while the others had been partying, or whatever they wanted, and she really wanted some time off to do something fun, so she was a bit annoyed when the guard came in.

[DrK]

The guard looks up in suprise as in short order the 4 heroes are trooping downstairs in battle regalia ready solve the next problem in the town. The guard grins and nods. 2Erm, thanks. Come on lets head to the mill. There has been a murder!" He bounces up and down on his feet as he winds his way up through the craped streets where candle lights are appearing at windows and some voices call down "Whats happening, we heard tell of a murder!" Approaching the large mill you can all see a worried looking Hemlock standing outside the mill that still clunks loudly. With his chain hauberk on and a sword at his waist he looks more warlike than when ast you saw him and voice is serious.

“First, let me thank you again for all you’ve done for Sandpoint. It’s fortunate you’ve proven yourselves so capable, in Sandpoint or abroad, because we’ve a problem I think you can help us with—a problem I wish I didn’t have to involve anyone with, but one that needs dealing with now before the situation grows worse. Put simply, we have a murderer in our midst—one who, I fear, has only begun his work. Some of you doubtless remember the Late Unpleasantness (or heard stories of it), how this town nearly tore itself apart in fear as Chopper’s slayings went on unanswered. I’m afraid we might have something similar brewing now."

“Last night, the murderer struck at the sawmill. There are two victims, and they’re… they’re in pretty gruesome shape. The bodies were discovered by one of the mill workers, a man named Ibor Thorn, and by the time my men and I arrived on the scene, a crowd of curious gawkers had already sprung up. I’ve got my men stationed there now, keeping the mill locked down, but the thing that bothers me isn’t the fact that we have two dead bodies inside. It’s the fact that this is actually the second set of murders we’ve had in the last few days.

“I come to you for help in this matter—my men are good, but they are also green. They were barely able to handle themselves against the goblins, and what we’re facing now is an evil far worse than goblins. I need the help. But I’m afraid you’ll need the help too. You see, I’m afraid that this particular murderer knows one of you as well.”