I gathered my things for what would be my final departure from Brymdale after a week of nothing. The sky stayed the same, dark and dreary, while the people of the town could only glance up in uncertainty… so I needed a change of scenery. Before leaving, I considered going to the temple to at least bid that Nohl fellow a farewell, maybe tell him other things. I’ll admit to spying in on him a few times, just to make sure no one tried to kill him before I did… but he would always be stuck in his books or making fire and whatnot. Strange man.
After cleaning out the room I had occupied, shouldering all of my belongings, I made my way down to the exit of the tavern, about to go to the temple to think more about possibly saying farewell to my willowy friend, but before I could reach the door, the man himself burst into the tavern, spotted me, and ushered me out to the edge of town where Hovan wait. Apparently the two were headed out to the next town, as well, on some sort of chore to speak with the priest man’s friend and now I was being dragged into it.
I take back calling Nohl “my friend”.
The three of us journeyed along to the next town at the base of a mountain without much issue. Not very much to look at with just three men wandering through the plains. As we approached the town of Mournstead, there was an odd feeling of quiet that loomed. The farming land at the outskirts lie empty in what should have been about early afternoon. We approached with caution and found the roads within town as barren as the fields. I hurried over to the most obvious place of knowledge and information but instead found an empty tavern that almost seemed as if it were abandoned for a long while: food sitting out smelt stale and sour, rooms were emptied out, nothing of worth remain despite whatever was left behind from a traveler from Oprucan. Hovan and Nohl insisted on hurrying to the temple where the priest man’s friend should be, so we moved on.
As we approached the temple that sat against the foot of the mountain, the air around it seemed just as stagnant as the rest of the town. Hovan threw the doors open to find a horrid display, the foyer riddled with blood that nearly flooded the whole room. I could probably swim in it if I was so depraved. Hovan’s blood was certainly heating up at this point.
Before we stepped in, however, a new man and a familiar someone appeared at the entrance of the temple behind us. Aoife and a dwarvish man whose name escapes me approached and began to survey the bloodied room before us. Hovan allowed me to has passage on his back while he explored the room while the dwarf man started climbing on the walls like some spider—it was rather disturbing to see. Aoife sent forth a miniature dragon to examine the room as well. Apparently she picked the thing up while she was away. Bitey little thing.
The small dragon and Hovan examined something that seemed to be written on the furthest wall in blood in another language, and it was declared to be something rude. Hovan was livid about someone defiling a sacred place like that and began storming around. I made sure to hop off before he started kicking down doors.
The group of us started to explore the rest of the temple, finding what seemed like normal living quarters until someone spotted a door nearly broken off the hinges in the back of a food prep room, the door leading down a flight of stairs. I hurried in front of the bulk to check the door at the end before anyone did anything stupid, peeking through the keyhole to see a string very obviously tied to the doorknob on the other side. Amateur.
That “trap” was passed easily, but what we found behind it were buckets of blood and a pattern drawn on the floor in that same blood. Hovan seemed ready to murder someone by then, and he rushed through with the dwarf man who was still climbing walls. Before they could make it through the hallway, Hovan set off a trap on the floor that barricaded himself and the spiderdwarf man in as what sounded like gas spewing into the area. Nohl and I, being more cautious on our feet, were blocked off and did what we could to find a switch to undo the trap. A success and a half later, the two were freed and Hovan was suddenly more hesitant to move without checking for traps.
Continuing forward without much difficulty, we reached a more cavernous area with running water, a piano sitting between two particular pillars that faced a platform in the center of rushing water. In a moment of silence, there was the sound of whistling. Hovan looked out to the platform in the water and saw what looked like a man, whistling while painting the walls with one of those bucket at his side. I think Hovan exploded because he was suddenly in the water, making his way to the culprit. I was a little more drawn to the piano, but we all eventually made our ways across the water to the same platform, but the person had fled well before we were all across.
We hurried further on into the cavern to chase whoever this guy was so Hovan could give them a stern talking to….