Chapter 2: The Priory - Myth-Weavers

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Chapter 2: The Priory

   
Chapter 2: The Priory

The Horn Hill Inn stood at the crossroads like a weather-beaten statue of a forgotten king. The rolling grasslands surrounding the manse, were unkempt as an hound neglected it's grooming. It's days as a summer escape for a great noble house were by now long behind it. The three stories of faded white timbre still held the ability to impress, but he holed roof and haphazardly boarded windows betrayed the facade and peaked at the decay which had taken hold. Such sights were not uncommon in the settled lands. The churn of civilization ensured that some would rise and others would fall. No rhyme or reason beyond luck or bloody action picking the victims.



The corral held a handful of horses and light emitted through the windows on the first floor. As the party approached, a subdued clamor could be heard. The Inn was open despite signs to the contrary.

Knowledge: Nobility or History DC 15

Shrike
Manic Pixie Dream Nightmare Girl

CE Gnome Antipaladin (Bloodwarg) 4 || Barbarian 1 / Unchained Rogue (Phantom Thief / Sanctified Rogue) 3
HP 46/46; AC 20, (Touch 15, Flat 16), CMD 14; Fortitude +13, Reflex +13 (Evasion), Will +10
Sanity 38/40; Threshold 20; Edge 4
Rage 10/10; Smite 2/2; Touch of Corruption 6/6; Wild Shape 1/1



"This place looks like my Great-Aunt Millefleur's summer cottage." Shrike said, tying her riding dog in with the horses before pausing to survey the building. "Of course, she died of consumption in the parlor, and no one found her for three days. Good times, good times."

I assume we've had a chance to rest. Without further ado,
Dice Roll: 1d20+8z
d20 Results: 11 (Total = 19)
History! (19)

"Is this where we are meant to stay?" Kamran asked. "I've seen slum brothels in better shape."

He glanced aside to Shrike. "How did no one find her?"

OOC
Dice Roll: 1d20+10z
d20 Results: 18 (Total = 28)
History (28)

Donna gave Shrike a strange look before shrugging her shoulders. It wasn't beyond possibility that that was the sort of thing that could easily happen in rural areas. At court, deaths were generally discovered quite promptly.

"I imagine we're unlikely to find much better this far from civilization," she said, tapping her lip, "Either that, or our employer is saving on lodgings."

Dice Roll: 1d20+11z
d20 Results: 7 (Total = 18)
know: nobility (18)

Shrike
Manic Pixie Dream Nightmare Girl

CE Gnome Antipaladin (Bloodwarg) 4 || Barbarian 1 / Unchained Rogue (Phantom Thief / Sanctified Rogue) 3
HP 46/46; AC 20, (Touch 15, Flat 16), CMD 14; Fortitude +13, Reflex +13 (Evasion), Will +10
Sanity 38/40; Threshold 20; Edge 4
Rage 10/10; Smite 2/2; Touch of Corruption 6/6; Wild Shape 1/1



"Well. She lived alone after the incident with the prelate, so there was no one in the house until the housekeeper came by." Shrike said, a thoughtful look entering the gnome's eyes. "She wasn't really my aunt, mind, human-as-you-please, but she and Mother always got along wonderfully. Even if Great-Aunt Millefleur did have the strangest ideas about cucumbers."

Knowledge History or Nobility Results
DC 15: Horn Hill was once a name for a large Molanese ranch before the Vorhallan Revolution, it once bred military horses for the Molanese army.
DC 20: It was controlled by the Volkmeir family for generations until most were killed in the revolution, their horses were confiscated by the Vorhallan Legions.
DC 25: Now the manor is owned by a distant relative of the original family who is deeply in debt to a Vorhallan Trade Syndicate.


The door creaked open as the mercenaries climbed the steps. An ancient man in a wrinkled servant's uniform appeared and gave a slight bow. "Welcome to the Horn Hill." The foyer had a few other guests, lounging on overstuffed couches scattered around the room. The doorman ushered the newcomers to a middle-aged man with thin blonde hair dressed in aged nobleman's garb sitting behind a large writing desk. The man looked up from several chaotic ledgers and was slightly taken aback by the diverse and well armed group. "Thank you Karl... Welcome, I am the proprietor Valentein Von Grigor the Third... We have a number of rooms available for board if required as well as full dining, and provide other amenities.."

"Well, something to keep in mind about this place," Kamran said before they approached the house. "The current owner is a distant relative of the originals, and he is deeply in debt to a trade syndicate. We have leverage, should we need to exploit it."

The tiefling smoothed his fur and smiled warmly as the party approached the ramshackle building. "Good day, Mr. Von Grigor. How do you do? Actually, we are here for a pound of tobacco, if you don't mind?"

The nobleman paused awkwardly then nodded. "Yes of course... we keep the smoking room in a more private section of the manor. Karl!" The elderly servant appeared silently, Von Grigor gestured "Show these ladies and gentlemen to the smoking room..." Karl bowed and beckoned the group. He led them through several old rooms that hinted at aged glamour but felt more like neglect. Dust covered tables and cupboards in the dining rooms and the paintings of rugged vistas and stately portraits scattered in the hallways were faded. The servant led them to an alcove and paused at a lantern. He looked around conspiratorially and pulled the lantern.

With a grinding noise a man sized section of the wall turned and revealed a staircase heading down. Karl gestured towards the passage.

Donna smirked in approval as the secret passage emerged. She'd always been a fan of them, though it was often quite difficult to persuade the nobility to front the expense necessary to include them in building plans. With a small shrug, she proceeded down into the indicated passage.

The passage opened out into an expansive chamber with hewn stone walls with several columns centrally placed. From behind a column emerged the blonde woman who last posed as a barmaid. Clad in black leather armor and a bandolier of blades, she cut a far more imposing figure. "Huh, you're all still alive... This way then..." she turned to a door and opened it. Inside was a wine room, bottles lined two whole walls, many covered in dust. In the center, Cowl hunched over a large dining table covered with coded papers and open books. Behind him was the familiar map crossed by string and sprawling notes, it seemed to have increased in intricacy.

Cowl broke his concentration and smiled, his grin genuine but was undercut by the large rings around his eyes and disheveled outfit. "Welcome back! I trust your assignment has borne some fruit? Pardon the mess..."








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