Legacy of the Hearthwoods part one - RPLOG
Participants
Date
25/7/477
Log
Early in the morning, approaching noon - perhaps the best time to take those who would rather lurk in the darkness by surprise. Even though the sun beats down heavily on the foot of the hill on which the old manor stands, it's cooler than what one would expect for the heat of summer. A cool breeze blows, stirring up stands of withered grass by the long-abandoned roadside, and by all appearances the grand old manor is devoid of any sign of life. Yet the thick mist that hangs over the hills to the south reminds all present of why they have come, and what their ultimate goal is, even if their current one is not quite clear...
Jera's greaves clink softly in the soft earth in the ground, the kit fox wearing his absolute best. He's seen the manor once before, but he finds himself needing to visit again, having questions and all sorts of lingering doubts in his mind.
Selena sighs a little, rubbing her eyes before looking out over the hill to the dilapidated manor. "... Well, we're here." She mutters to nobody in particular. "And I see no ambush party. That's a good start." She notes, looking back over to Jera. "I'm almost surprised there's no sign of that fog here, but I'm not complaining either. I suppose the higher ground helps a lot."
Natska sticks close to Jera and Selena, the jaguar following her friend's example, moving softly in her heavy armor. Her ear flicks as her attention is directed to the fog and she nods. "It still grates on my nerves even this far away." She looks back to the manor. "Well. Shall we?"
As the trio approach the old manor's gates, nothing seems out of place for a building that's lain abandoned since the fall of Mossy Stone twenty-seven years ago. The wrought-iron gate has been rusted ajar - thankfully so, as opposed to shut, and beyond it lies an overgrown garden, complete with dried-up fountain, old masuoleum and rotting gazebo. Even the entrance to the manor has fallen apart, one of the grand double doors lying in splinters on the ground, beckoning, waiting.
Jera shudders, his fur standing on end from all the bad vibes he is getting from the place. Even enough to quiver just a little in his armor. He holds his bow tightly in his hands, looking back at his two companions and trusting them to have his back even as he leads the way through the deserted double doors...
Selena rubs her cheek and looks back over the manor somewhat critically, slipping through the gates without too much trouble thanks to her lack of armor. "Well, I already have a bad feeling about this place." She mutters to nobody in particular. "Natska, I'd prefer if you went first - armor and all." She notes simply, taking a deep breath. "I suppose I can understand the appeal in it, but it's not for me."
Natska gives Selena a small nod, and moves in after Jera. "Don't let any nasties sneak up behind us," she replies, tone serious. Her grip tightens a moment on the haft of her glaive and she gives the courtyard a critical glance. "Jera? Would you prefer to hang back a little as well? I am comfortable being first, although I am not sure what we are looking for."
The entrance foyer is in no better shape than the manor's exterior. There's evidence of past activity - the tattered, mouldy carpet has been scuffed by feet in places - but with the way it is, it's an uphill task to tell who or what caused them, or how old they are. They're certainly not around at any rate, for the foyer is equally deserted.
Chandeliers have fallen from the ceiling and lie smashed on the floor; someone's made an attempt to sweep the glass shards to the sides of the hallway where they won't be in the way. Pillars, once grand, stand stained by mildew, although the words of greeting on them are still legible, and from ahead in the dim corridor, illuminated by what faint light filters in through the stained windows...the scent of cooking?
"Do you feel that too, Selena? Some of the Old One followers possibly still lingering around her." Jera nods at Natska slowly. "I think we should be on our utmost -sniff sniff- utmost -sniff sniff- guard?" The kit fox smells the cooking and gets distracted for a bit, gripping his bow a little tighter and readying an arrow. "Hmm."
Selena nods back to the fox. "With what I'm feeling, there's probably more than one caller's worth of corruption here." She replies simply, looking back over to Natska and Jera. "... Well, the armor's certainly new on Jera. I don't mean to sound jaded, but it might be best if you head first for now, Natska. It takes some time to get used to new things... As much as I trust you both not to do something stupid, it'll be safer that way."
"... Food, though. Someone's probably here. For the lack of intelligence most of the undead show, there have been some exceptions." She notes. "If we investigate now, we might catch someone - but if we head another way, we might be able to look through more of the manor before potential inhabitants find us." The wolfess follows after Jera, silently thankful she wouldn't have to try and step around glass to remain somewhat silent.
Natska tenses for a moment at Jera's question, gaze sweeping the foyer, then slips past Jera with the smooth, slow steps of a hunting cat, sniffing at the air. "Definitely occupied..." she whispers, voice low, and begins moving towards the source of the smell.
Natska's search leads the trio past some servants' quarters and a storeroom, through a dusty, cobwebbed solarioum and into a grand dining hall. The furniture looks almost as if it's lain there for decades - which it probably has. A single long table with two seats at its head, presumably for the lord and lady of the manor, the family, and at the foot, the servants. On the walls above the archway entrance, what used to be portraits of the family - presumably so, for the canvas has long been cut out and only the frames, affixed to the walls, bear witness to the legacy Hearthwood family who lived in the manor for generations.
At the rear of the dining hall, another archway into the kitchen, just as dusty and in disarray, save for one small corner that houses a cooking fireplace. An enormous iron cauldron hands over a cheery little flame, and it's from its contents - a slightly sour smelling meat soup of some sort - that the scent of cooking originated. Considering the sheer size of the cauldron, and the serving pots next to it, whoever put this on the fire to simmer was confident enough in the sheer volume of liquid contained that the soup wouldn't burn.
Natska changes her soul for just a moment as they creep forward, then quietly growls and gives her head a sharp shake, eyes searching for the chef. "A stew of Beings. I would not touch it. But where is the cook?" Her tail lashes, agitated.
"The last time I was here, ghostly things were about." Jera shudders and then recalls his experience with the manor, looking around for a moment and frowning. He decides to look at the pictures on the wall one by one, and in detail as well, brushing off portraits carefully.
Selena furrows her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" She asks, aparrently not quite sure how to take the comment from Natska. "You're telling me someone here is a cannibal?" The wolfess sounds a little incredulous to say the least, though it's possible she doesn't want to accept the possibility on face value, though still being careful not to raise her voice too much. "I don't even know what to say about that..." It's clear either way that she doesn't approve as she stiffens slightly, hands clenching into fists.
Natska slowly nods her head. "It is a unique smell... I thought you might recognize it as well with your use of fire math, but perhaps you are not usually so close to your victims. Fire-punch enough things and you will get used to it." She pauses, spits, and growls. ?But eating them is disgusting."
If there were any doubt about contents of the soup, there is none as part of a rib cage momentarily bobs to the surface. If there's any comfort to be had from the fact, it looks positively decayed - the cauldron's contents were likely unearthed from a grave. Jera manages to catch a glimpse of what might have been a picture of a wolf being imprinted upon one of the frames, paint having seeped through canvas before it could dry, and there's a faint resemblance to Selena, something about the chin...
There's little time to to ponder further on that, though. Ghostly things, as Jera put it - them and other things, less ghostly but equally dead, begin approaching the dining hall from the entrance to the solarium. Unlike the vengeful dead of Mossy Stone, though, they appear quite calm and pliant, ignoring Natska, Jera and Selena alike as they take up seats at the dining table. The remanants of the household servants, perhaps, as one notices, perhaps conspicuously, that the Lord and Lady's seats are still empty even after all the dead are awaiting their meal.
It seems it is now clear who the cooking was for.
Jera blinks at the resemblance. "I think you should take a look at this, Selen-" He cuts himself off, looking at the ghosts. "Later, Selena. Later." He stares at the two empty seats. "They can't still be...alive, can they?"
Selena shakes her head. "I prefer not to kill beings if I can avoid it. So, no - I'm not familiar with the smell of boiling beings." She replies, shaking her head. The ghosts passing through the manor prompt a somewhat uneasy look from the wolfess, raising an eyebrow at Jera's comment. "... Look at what, Jera?" She asks regardless of the fox's change of topic. "No. They wouldn't be. They're certainly dead." She replies flatly, shaking her head. "I don't like where this is going, either. This is just disgusting - no matter how you put it, or what way you choose to think of it."
Natska crouches slightly as the ghosts file in, expecting an attack. She lets herself relax though when the spririts prove peaceful enough, her notched ear flicking. "Poor Beings..." she says, sadly. "Are they... still people? Aware? Or are they just memories?" she asks, looking to Selena for an answer.
Jera is noting that nothing seems to move on in the house. He frowns again, swallowing deeply. Pouring some of the ashes on the fire under the pot so that the wafting smell is a little bit less intense with the smaller fire. He shakes his head and sighs, pointing to the interesting portrait for Selena before heading to one of the empty chairs. "Only one way to find out." He sits. "Perhaps you should serve the others their meal?"
Selena shakes her head. "A while ago there was an expedition to the catacombs under Mossy Stone. The were spirits there as well, and from what they said they hadn't had any time since their death to come to terms with anything. A certain spirit was manipulating them to their own ends, and frankly I suspect these poor souls are in the same position." She replies. "They ARE dead."
As Jera directs her over to the portrait, she peers for a while - the fading certainly forcing her to study it for a few moments longer. jera setting himself at the head of the table prompts a raised eyebrow, though his latter comment prompts a shake of her head. "I'd rather not be here at all. If they're here, then chances are whoever would set this up will be here soon to do whatever it is they do."
The moment Jera takes his seat, some measure of the spirits' vacant demeanour vanishes, turning to face the kit fox one by one, spectres, shades and skeletons alike. They have neither lungs nor throat, and yet they still speak:
"Glad you could join us to break fast, Master Hearthwood."
"I had the peppers freshly picked from the garden at dawn, Master Hearthwood. Please try them when they arrive at the table."
"Far from it being proper to discuss business at mealtime, Sir, but the accounts -"
Then something clicks in their vacant minds, and as one, the prospective diners flinch - some withdrawing from Jera, others leaning forward threateningly as they make to get up from their seats.
"You are not Master Hearthwood!"
"Who are you? Why are you sitting in Master Hearthwood's seat?"
"Daring, to barge into a gentleman's home and seat oneself in his place at the table!"
"Lady Hearthwood!" one of the ghosts shrieks, a vaguely translucent squirrel in a waistcoat and matching pants, turning to Selena. "Lady Hearthwood, a ruffian has barged in and has taken your husband's place at the table!"
Natska blinks in surprise as the ghosts begin reacting to Jera. She edges her way closer to the kit fox in case she is needed, glancing behind her at the door leading back into the rest of the manor. She remains quiet, though, letting the lord and lady deal with the spirits, tail swishing back and forth in an aggitated, nervous lash again.
"Amazing what a good shave, a haircut and a brand new suit of armor does to someone's appearance, hmm? And we had quite the dinner prepared, too. I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for stew anymore, though." Jera murmurs softly, folding his arms across his chest and looking unamused. His hand pointing quickly to the portrait again as if asking Selena to take the role. He was getting a little bit spooked, but kept his composure firm. He looked up and whispered something to Natska. "Make sure the exit is clear..."
Selena peers back a the others for a moment as they go through the motions unimpressedly, though when their demeanors change, she briefly looks a little bit surprised - then barely stifling a laugh as she's likened to the wife of the head of the house.
Jera's gestures are noticed, the wolfess aparrently not quite so good at acting. "I will escort our guest from the table; he seems to have mistaken the dining room for the study." She replies in a tone stranded between concern, reprimanding and obviously-not-noble-and-not-trying-to-mask-it.
"Most improper behaviour..."
"Such scandal..."
Aggrieved as they are and despite the rather flimsy excuse, the ghosts don't seem to pursue the matter any further as Selena leads Jera and Natska out of the dining hall, instead settling back in their seats and awaiting for their meal to be served, which doesn't seem to be anytime soon. Perhaps the trio's presence triggered the apparitions to come early...but one can never be sure.
The solarium outside looks as deserted as it was when they came in, with a stairwell leading to the second floor, and there are still the servants' quarters and storeroom that were passed on the way in. On the second floor, one can faintly make out four rooms from the landing, although one would need to look closer to figure out what they are.
Natska makes her way back into the solarium, head turning from side to side as she peers at the shadows. "... where are they?" she asks, although the question is not directed at anyone specific. "This place is creeping me out. Again." Her eyes move up the stairs, and she creeps closer, poking them in a couple of places to see if they may support weight.
"Still no sign of Old one followers. Though we'll slowly whittle down the places to look for them." Jera seems to be focusing on that very hard to try to get his breathing back to normal. "Now I just want to look for the library, or the study. There has to be more to this place than we can see." The kit fox grumbles softly as he looks around the manor again. "I'd rather head upstairs first, away from the ghosts."
Selena shakes her head. "That was weird." she notes in agreement, shuddering slightly. "Probably just being a wolf that set them off; I don't really care where we go, but for now? Not back there. Upstairs sounds like a safer bet than here."
