7. The ghostly tower

Campaigns: The Making of Legends: Campaign Notes: Chapter 10

The meandering tracks through the hills provide shelter from the worst of the wind while not high enough to hold the glistening white snow. As they travel along these tracks the three Adepts discuss the shard they have and the legend surrounding it, trying to determine how best to continue the search.

The first night out of Ekranar they share a camp with a small caravan, for mutual protection and for the company. The mixed crew are generally jovial, exchanging stories and a warning of a mudslide to the south. The next few days pass quickly enough, passing a patrol of Throalic soldiers on the outskirts of the civilized territory. Since they are not in any particular hurry the three Adepts pause in each town they pass through, asking around for stories of magical crystals. Taking alternate paths through the hills Krolmar is amazed that he could have travelled this way before without knowing about even half of the settlements.

Late one afternoon as dusk approaches Brashak spies a tower on a hilltop and the Adepts hurry towards it to ask for shelter for the night. A single light shines out from the upper window. The rose bushes lining the cobblestone path have grown into untended tangles, and when they reach the front door they find it ajar.

Thinking it impolite to simply waltz in if anyone actually inhabits the tower Brashak shouts in through the door opening. "Hellooo! Anybody home?"

"Hello?" Krolmar yells, following Brashak's lead. In doing so he looks up to the lightened window looking for any signs of movement. There is as little reply as there is movement. The ork draws Might and follows Brashak warily through the door. Sarn follows the other two into the tower very cautiously, glancing around in every corner. His heart beats fast and he expects the worst -- even a Horror jumping at them.

The inside of the tower is dark other than the radiance of Brashak's light quartz. Krolmar's trained eye instinctively assesses the layout of the door and the ground floor and he concludes that the tower is strong and easily defended. It shows no obvious signs of forced entry, but the inside has been ransacked. Chests and drawers lie open with the remains of their contents spilled across the floor. Cushions, lamps, light quartzes, and other fittings have been ripped out, and everything fragile has been smashed.

As he moves out of the entrance hall Brashak realizes that the tower must have made a comfortable, even luxurious, abode at one time. It looks like modern dwarven architecture, but it is built large enough to accomodate even trolls comfortably. He judges from the amount of dust and cobwebs that it has been abandoned for several weeks or months, but not as long as a year. The ground floor has several rooms including a kitchen, and a spiral staircase leading up to the first floor. The first floor is in a similar state to the ground floor, containing a pair of bedrooms and a ransacked study. Thick cobwebs cover the spiral staircase up to the top storey.

Krolmar inspects the arrow slits at the end of the hallway, which look like normal windows to the untrained eye. Brashak brushes the cobwebs off a painting in the study, which depicts an extended family of dwarves in a sunny room.

"Shh!" says Sarn. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" asks Krolmar. "I don't hear anything."

Brashak is about to write it off as just the wind playing on Sarn's overactive imagination when he hears what sounds like the soft chords of a harp.

"Shh. Be quiet," Sarn whispers. "That might be a trap." He doesn't know what this means, but one playing a harp in such surroundings? That makes no sense.

Even though Krolmar cannot hear the playing harp he trusts the perception of Sarn. Immediately his mind races back to Kaer Wirinna and the harp playing in the passage way, the burns, and the deaths.

"Not very likely. It could just be the wind." Tilting his head trying to better hear Brashak moves very carefully towards the source of the sound. It seems to be coming from above. Brashak reaches the bottom of the spiral stairs and clearly hears the mournful chords drifting down through the cobwebs.

Sarn shakes his head and tries to show to Brashak not to move. He points at his ears to indicate that he wants to listen again. Brashak pauses at the bottom of the stairs giving Sarn a puzzled look. After a few seconds he shrugs and starts moving up the stairs. "There's only one way to get to the bottom of this, and that's by going up."

Krolmar darts a look at Sarn and pushes up behind Brashak as he starts to get a little impatient. He starts to think that his Vorst companion is too scared of the unknown, maybe a good night on some hurlg would do him good.

Sarn unwillingly brings up the rear as Brashak pushes through the spiderwebs. The top floor seems to be left relatively untouched, unlike the other two floors. There are two bedrooms on one side and a closed door on the other. A crack of light can be seen under the door, and the soft music is obviously coming from inside.

Krolmar makes a quick check of the two bedrooms before he approaches the door hiding the light. He bends down low to look for keyholes but finds nothing. "Why don't you try knocking?" Brashak suggests. He follows his own suggestion while Krolmar stands to the side with his sword drawn and ready for action.

After no response the troll reaches down to open the door. The door opens onto a spacious room illuminated with warm firelight. Comfortable looking couches line the walls and the floor is panelled with dark wood. The whole room looks out of place with the rest of the deserted tower. There is no dust or cobwebs anywhere, and the flowers set in pots around the walls are still fresh.

Near the fireplace an old dwarf sits hunched over a harp. She pays no attention to the openning door and continues to slowly pluck the strings.

Krolmar sheaths his sword and enters the room. As soon as he heads over towards the fire a ghostly dwarven warrior materializes in front of him. The dwarf opens his mouth as in a battle cry but makes no sound as he hacks at the ork.

Brashak's eyes widen in shock and surprise at the appearance of the ghostly warrior. But seeing Krolmar under attack by the apparition he knows that he must help his friend and launches himself at the dwarven warrior with a sideways swipe of his battleaxe. The dwarf fails to see the attack coming and falls backwards clutching his chest. Krolmar draws his weapon and turns to face a second apparition. The apparition is driven backwards with multiple wounds and collapses across a couch.

Sarn stands in the doorway with Vasagh's crossbow ready to shoot at anything dangerous. A dwarven girl appears in front of him, screaming silently. Before the Archer can react she clutches at her throat and collapses like a rag doll.

The old lady at the harp continues playing her mournful song. One by one insubstantial dwarven figures appear, only to die a few seconds later. An old man is struck sideways by an invisible blow, spraying his lifeblood on the white-washed wall. A woman backs away from the Adepts holding up her hands for mercy before she sags and falls to the floor. A dwarven child stares defiantly up at Krolmar desperately trying not to cry until he is tossed sideways and crumples.

Brashak looks around in wide eyed horror at the gruesome events unfolding around him. "By the Passions! What happened here?"

Over a dozen dwarves of all ages appear in the same way and die in a gruesome manner until the walls and floor are splattered with blood and the room is filled with corpses. The killings finally end and the silence is filled only by the old lady playing the harp. Suddenly a spray of blood appears on the white wall behind her and she slowly topples sideways.

Krolmar looks around the room once more, his complexion has paled with the recent unfolding events. "We have some mysterious spirits at work. I do not like this. It leaves me with a foul taste of illusion. . ." The ork pauses, then he spins in a complete circle. "Alana, show yourself!"

The shutters clatter in a gust of wind, with the sound seemingly multiplied by the silence. Brashak stares at Krolmar. "What makes you think this Alana has anything to do with this?"

"I don't really know. I just don't trust Alana," Krolmar replies. "Such trickery I would not put past here either."

"To me it looks like the dwarves that lived here we butchered by someone or something and for some reason they have been unable to find rest. Such things are not unheard of, but I never thought I would see it for myself." Brashak starts and turns at a sudden creaking of the floor behind him. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend the night here after all. How about we go outside and find a nice place for a campsite?"

"I can see no reason not to. It would be far better than staying in this place," replies the ork, his nerves starting to show.

"I would like to go back in daylight to see if I can find out what caused the deaths of those dwarves," Brashak says as they sit around the campfire and chew on their rations.

Sarn sits a little way aside from the others on a stump with Vasagh's crossbow on his knees. He thinks about how he came into its possession, the first rumours in his village long long ago. Then the trip to Bartertown, from there with Hyun and Merr to Ekranar. How he searched for the group and the deal that they help him and he them. His trip with Sole and Brashak into the jungle and the deal for the metal things and crojen hides. It was a long and dangerous way with a lot of risks, but he went for his aim and hit the middle.

Now here he is, with the crossbow on his knees, knowing the time has come to connect his legend with that of the crossbow. He realizes that with his search and adventure just to gain it, he has added something new to the crossbow, it is not just the one he searched for anymore. If it matters? He doesn't know, also what he did with it and perhaps he'll add some more power to it, through his actions and deeds. He relaxes and starts to weave his first thread to the crossbow's pattern.

Unable to see the astral pattern clearly Sarn 'feels' around until he finds the place where his knowledge lets him attatch a thread. Carefully he moves the thread to the right place and slowly, very slowly, so nothing can happen he attatches his thread to the crossbow's pattern using the techniques Gladria taught him. He takes so long about the task that by the time he reaches the end the process the start has begun to unravel. Attempts to fix only seem to make it worse until the whole thread dissolves away.

What happened? Sarn thinks. Was I to slow, too nervous? He sits there with a sad expression on his face. I'm too excited now, I may should try later on, he thinks.

In the morning the Adepts venture back into the abandoned tower, scaring away a few pigeons roosting in the rafters. The ground and first floors are exactly as they were before and contain little of use. It appears as if the tower has been looted thoroughly, possibly multiple times.

The top floor is the only one which contains much of interest. The Adepts search the hallway and the bedrooms thoroughly before venturing back into the sunroom. In one of the bedrooms Krolmar uncovers a weapons rack behind a sliding panel, which contains six dwarf-sized sets of a crossbow, a helmet, and a sword. Even though the bedrooms are relatively intact most items of interest are gone. The bookshelf is empty, as are the chests and a jewellery box. The former inhabitants must have been quite wealthy.

Krolmar carefully picks up each item, looking it over thoroughly then placing it back on the rack. "It seems intriuging that these hve been left behind. Also if what you say is true Brashak, it appears the dwarves failed to get to these in time."

Brashak leads the way back to the sunroom and opens the door. There are no signs of the massacre of the previous night, but unlike the rest of the tower there is very little dust and no cobwebs or other signs of disuse. The morning sun streams in through the open shutters. Sarn walks to one of the windows and looks out over the hills. From the high vantage point he can see the tops of the houses of a village just over the next hill.

"I don't know what happened here," Sarn says, "but perhaps the people living over there could tell us some more. If they don't want to kill us if they got to know that we went into this tower." He turns to his companions and asks them, "There are no hidden doors or something else? Or we should wait for another night what will happen then. . ."

"Another night? I think the village is looking pretty good after what happened last night," says the ork, not looking forward to the prospect of staying around the tower with its spirits or ghosts.

"Alright, I'd suggest to go there then. And perhaps they can tell us a bit about this tower," Sarn adds.

"If they weren't attacked and killed together with the people who lived here," Brashak says ominously. "Let's go find out."

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