Harrowstone, the haunted prison, the part First
And we rejoin Our Heroes as they stand outside the gate to Harrowstone prison, looking inside through the ruined gate. They have walked around the structure - mostly, anyway, since the ravages of time and a collapsed sub-level have caused a lake to form, blocking transit around the prison - and seen the main prison building, with a patrolling scythe carried by two skeletal arms, and a smaller house next to the prison.
As Our Heroes enter the prison...
Oh. I - mmm. I, Your Humble Narrator, must confess something here. My - both my mother, and my grandfather, died in the Harrowstone Prison tragedy. This... this is difficult, for me. I apologize, for making this personal; I generally try to remain a neutral and objective observer but - well, this is a lot. A lot to process, and a lot to remember. My father and I would reminisce about his wife and father, my mother and grandfather, as we ate dinner by the fire - and now, all these years later, my memories of this connection, of my father working through our grief, are even stronger than my memories of my mother, or of my father's father. Perhaps this is why I follow the chronicles of these adventurers - broken and damaged people that they are, but agents of change in the world - wild card actors who Do Things, who Make Things Happen.
Well. Again, my apologies for the digression. Let us continue - I think that might be for the best, all things considered.
As the Party passes through the broken gates of Harrowstone Prison they feel a sudden burst of claustrophobia - everything is closing in on them, and then a split second sensation of fire, of burning, of a flame that is burning THEM, burning their skin and tissues to the bone.
Breathing heavily, the Party takes a moment to shake off this feeling, as they begin to worry, each in their own way, as to what is to come in this Haunted Prison.
Kendra and Antwon (mounted on Nelson) stand just inside the gates, while Torvan inspects the towers near the gate, and Nod (followed stealthily by Vig) moves to the small manor house. Torvan finds one guard tower empty, but the other infested by a swarm of giant rats - Our Heroes wisely decide to leave the rats alone. Nod and Vig enter the manor, and search its few rooms - until a footstep on a loose board is enough to cause part of the roof to collapse.
Shaking off the dust, Nod and Vig rejoin the party and advance closer to the Prison proper. As they pass by a ruined and dry fountain just before the entrance there is a sound, like the noise of a muttering crowd waiting for a performance, where all of the voices are rough, and deep, and impatient. Another step closer to the Prison and the voices gain in volume - still a crowd-mutter of indistinct words - and now the sound is... directed, somehow, at Our Party, and then a SHOUT of rage, of fear, of pain - and then the sound vanishes, and all goes silent.
The sky darkens. It will rain soon.
The party moves to inspect the Prison before entering - and finds the grasses and weeds cleared from the foundation, and runes painted on the stones. Kendra is able to read them, being in Varisian, and though she is not trained enough in the Arcane arts she does recognize them as being part of a ritual that involved abjuration and necromantic magics, with the name "Lyvar Hawkran" repeated several times.
As the party continues around the outside of the prison, they find where part of the eastern wall has collapsed into a murky lake. Figures rise from the lake - some skeletal, and some ghostly, and some seeming to be forms of ectoplasm - each rises from the lake and points directly at Our Heroes - and each member of the party sees each accusing finger pointing directly at themselves.
The figures hover, for a moment, and then start to dissolve back into the lake; falling or fading or dissolving as appropriate, until all that is left is seven score hands pointing in judgement. Then the hands fall apart and again, all is silent, except for the light rain pattering on the lake and the ruined roof.
And then, We enter the Haunted Prison. The foyer is dusty - no one who might leave tracks has entered recently enough to leave tracks, and considering the ruined nature of the outside of the prison, the doors and stonework are in surprisingly good shape.
Each of Our Heroes has a vision, upon entering the Foyer - each of a different spirit, with a different physical focus, and a different way of entering the Prison:
The haunt lasts for a brief moment, after which Our Heroes come back to their senses, look at each other and shrug, and begin to search, as adventurers are wont to do. Offices and privies are found; safes are smashed open; doors are investigated for locks and traps. Some small amount of loot is procured, as well as:
And then the party, in a room labeled "Workshop", meets Vesoriana, the ghost, and formerly wife of Warden Hawkran. Vesoriana appears as... but, let us let her describe herself:
"I am Vesoriana Hawkran, formerly Wife to the Warden of this Prison and now the last defense against the malevolent spirits infesting this accursed place. I wear blue - in my dress, and my hair, and my skin - both as my favorite color, and appropriate for one who died of asphixiation; my eyes weep blue tears, and my words breathe out with ghostly blue smoke."
Well, Vesoriana, and what is your role here? Do you mind talking with us about this place? You seem... well, friendly, which is refreshing considering the horrors we've seen so far.
"Mmmm - thank you, Abstract Narrator. When I came into the prison in the middle of the night, to see what was keeping my husband, I fear that in my panic and haste to rescue him I set off the traps; I ruined the lift to the lower level instead of allowing the guards (and my Lyvan) to rise to rescue, and I doomed everyone to death, here all those many years ago."
"For these last several decades I have wept, here alone, remorseful for my actions and missing my husband, but time gives one perspective and while the sadness was and still is a raw wound of pain and longing, constant and chronic exposure has allowed a part of me to become inured. It is a most curious feeling - his absence, in the last handful of days, is more relief than anything, for while I know he has been taken more permanently from me I am no longer haunted and aggrieved."
"Perhaps, if you were a ghost as long as I, this would make more sense to you. Hmmm. More pressingly, though, is the presence of five malevolent spirits - evil haunts that my Husband, as the Warden, was able to keep in check, to keep at bay. I have assumed that burden unto myself but I am merely the Warden's Wife, and without the metaphoric symbol of office I am not strong enough to withstand their spirited assault."
"Well, yes, I suppose that is a sort of pun! How nice of you to notice - I find that levity, in the face of despair and overwhelming depression, can be somewhat of a relief, don't you?"
"Mmm. Perhaps not. But - to the problem at hand. These five spirits assail my nature and my... my soul, I suppose - and I can feel them gaining the upper hand. If you could quell them with your magic and your blades - and then give to me a symbol of my Husband and his Office (his keys, or his badge, might work), then I feel that I could put them - and this vile place, by association - to rest."
The party speaks further with Vesoriana - finding that she is the spirit who has spoken through Kendra, that some tools exist that might resonate with said Bad Actors (two in the floor above, three below). More questions are asked but, as I said before, my observation of this Party is fraught with deep emotions from my past and I fear that I must continue my narrative on the morrow.
As Our Heroes enter the prison...
Oh. I - mmm. I, Your Humble Narrator, must confess something here. My - both my mother, and my grandfather, died in the Harrowstone Prison tragedy. This... this is difficult, for me. I apologize, for making this personal; I generally try to remain a neutral and objective observer but - well, this is a lot. A lot to process, and a lot to remember. My father and I would reminisce about his wife and father, my mother and grandfather, as we ate dinner by the fire - and now, all these years later, my memories of this connection, of my father working through our grief, are even stronger than my memories of my mother, or of my father's father. Perhaps this is why I follow the chronicles of these adventurers - broken and damaged people that they are, but agents of change in the world - wild card actors who Do Things, who Make Things Happen.
Well. Again, my apologies for the digression. Let us continue - I think that might be for the best, all things considered.
As the Party passes through the broken gates of Harrowstone Prison they feel a sudden burst of claustrophobia - everything is closing in on them, and then a split second sensation of fire, of burning, of a flame that is burning THEM, burning their skin and tissues to the bone.
Breathing heavily, the Party takes a moment to shake off this feeling, as they begin to worry, each in their own way, as to what is to come in this Haunted Prison.
Kendra and Antwon (mounted on Nelson) stand just inside the gates, while Torvan inspects the towers near the gate, and Nod (followed stealthily by Vig) moves to the small manor house. Torvan finds one guard tower empty, but the other infested by a swarm of giant rats - Our Heroes wisely decide to leave the rats alone. Nod and Vig enter the manor, and search its few rooms - until a footstep on a loose board is enough to cause part of the roof to collapse.
Shaking off the dust, Nod and Vig rejoin the party and advance closer to the Prison proper. As they pass by a ruined and dry fountain just before the entrance there is a sound, like the noise of a muttering crowd waiting for a performance, where all of the voices are rough, and deep, and impatient. Another step closer to the Prison and the voices gain in volume - still a crowd-mutter of indistinct words - and now the sound is... directed, somehow, at Our Party, and then a SHOUT of rage, of fear, of pain - and then the sound vanishes, and all goes silent.
The sky darkens. It will rain soon.
The party moves to inspect the Prison before entering - and finds the grasses and weeds cleared from the foundation, and runes painted on the stones. Kendra is able to read them, being in Varisian, and though she is not trained enough in the Arcane arts she does recognize them as being part of a ritual that involved abjuration and necromantic magics, with the name "Lyvar Hawkran" repeated several times.
As the party continues around the outside of the prison, they find where part of the eastern wall has collapsed into a murky lake. Figures rise from the lake - some skeletal, and some ghostly, and some seeming to be forms of ectoplasm - each rises from the lake and points directly at Our Heroes - and each member of the party sees each accusing finger pointing directly at themselves.
The figures hover, for a moment, and then start to dissolve back into the lake; falling or fading or dissolving as appropriate, until all that is left is seven score hands pointing in judgement. Then the hands fall apart and again, all is silent, except for the light rain pattering on the lake and the ruined roof.
And then, We enter the Haunted Prison. The foyer is dusty - no one who might leave tracks has entered recently enough to leave tracks, and considering the ruined nature of the outside of the prison, the doors and stonework are in surprisingly good shape.
Each of Our Heroes has a vision, upon entering the Foyer - each of a different spirit, with a different physical focus, and a different way of entering the Prison:
- One, a piper with a ruined face, who longed to see his 'friends' and to feed them blood, missing his flute.
- Another, charming and utterly remorseless, finding his way with false offers of religious succor to those in need, separated from his silver chains, each with a different God's holy symbol.
- A third, morose and gloomy, his hammer taken so that he could no longer pursue his goal of rebuilding his dead wife's skull, which was shattered with said hammer. If only he could break other skulls just right, and find the missing piece, he could complete his broken wife and find rest himself.
- The fourth filled with lust for blood, for pain, and for death, raging against his imprisonment and longing only to continue lopping heads of his enemies, of the innocent, of whosoever he might find in possession of a neck for his ax.
- And finally, a bound and masked mage, wheeled into the Prison bound to a hand cart, mind reeling with plans and schemes even as he began to steel himself against a life filled with deprivation, torture, and pain.
The haunt lasts for a brief moment, after which Our Heroes come back to their senses, look at each other and shrug, and begin to search, as adventurers are wont to do. Offices and privies are found; safes are smashed open; doors are investigated for locks and traps. Some small amount of loot is procured, as well as:
- A room labeled "Branding", where Torvan is assaulted and almost captured by spectrally animated manacles. Twice.
- A room labeled "Furnace", in which a haunted furnace gathers misty smoke into itself, seemingly filled with the faces of the damned and the burnt, until Ember Maw, the Prison's Furnace, animates and lashes at Our Heroes with a tongue made of fire. Some of the party considers attacking the furnace, but they wisely end up leaving it alone - and giving it a wide berth as the furnace's hideous fiery tongue continues to seek out prey.
- An infirmary, with visions of pain and suffering, of choices difficult choices forced upon the prisoner - the choice between suffering through sickness and injury in one's cell, or adjourning to the infirmary where treatments were little better than torture. It's horrifying, as are many places in this accursed place.
- A staircase up is found, as is a collapsed and impassable staircase down. A hole in the floor is also found, leading to the basement.
And then the party, in a room labeled "Workshop", meets Vesoriana, the ghost, and formerly wife of Warden Hawkran. Vesoriana appears as... but, let us let her describe herself:
"I am Vesoriana Hawkran, formerly Wife to the Warden of this Prison and now the last defense against the malevolent spirits infesting this accursed place. I wear blue - in my dress, and my hair, and my skin - both as my favorite color, and appropriate for one who died of asphixiation; my eyes weep blue tears, and my words breathe out with ghostly blue smoke."
Well, Vesoriana, and what is your role here? Do you mind talking with us about this place? You seem... well, friendly, which is refreshing considering the horrors we've seen so far.
"Mmmm - thank you, Abstract Narrator. When I came into the prison in the middle of the night, to see what was keeping my husband, I fear that in my panic and haste to rescue him I set off the traps; I ruined the lift to the lower level instead of allowing the guards (and my Lyvan) to rise to rescue, and I doomed everyone to death, here all those many years ago."
"For these last several decades I have wept, here alone, remorseful for my actions and missing my husband, but time gives one perspective and while the sadness was and still is a raw wound of pain and longing, constant and chronic exposure has allowed a part of me to become inured. It is a most curious feeling - his absence, in the last handful of days, is more relief than anything, for while I know he has been taken more permanently from me I am no longer haunted and aggrieved."
"Perhaps, if you were a ghost as long as I, this would make more sense to you. Hmmm. More pressingly, though, is the presence of five malevolent spirits - evil haunts that my Husband, as the Warden, was able to keep in check, to keep at bay. I have assumed that burden unto myself but I am merely the Warden's Wife, and without the metaphoric symbol of office I am not strong enough to withstand their spirited assault."
"Well, yes, I suppose that is a sort of pun! How nice of you to notice - I find that levity, in the face of despair and overwhelming depression, can be somewhat of a relief, don't you?"
"Mmm. Perhaps not. But - to the problem at hand. These five spirits assail my nature and my... my soul, I suppose - and I can feel them gaining the upper hand. If you could quell them with your magic and your blades - and then give to me a symbol of my Husband and his Office (his keys, or his badge, might work), then I feel that I could put them - and this vile place, by association - to rest."
The party speaks further with Vesoriana - finding that she is the spirit who has spoken through Kendra, that some tools exist that might resonate with said Bad Actors (two in the floor above, three below). More questions are asked but, as I said before, my observation of this Party is fraught with deep emotions from my past and I fear that I must continue my narrative on the morrow.
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