The threat of a doppleganger.
Now, I've never said it was, nor did I say it wasn't. Just the hint of it and the party has been driving themselves nuts trying to discover different ways to prove who they are to one another as well as the NPC's in town.
Write up follows:
The party walked through the rain to Castle Canastal where they asked for audience with the Castle’s Castellan. At this point, Fist’al left the party and worked his way to Pelis the Rug Merchant. The group had to wait only a brief amount of time before the Castellan was willing to see them. A portly man in his last 50’s, he was still in a foul mood from the group’s incessant questioning of him not too long ago, but he was asked by Baron Taugis to spend some time with the party now, clearing up some information from a few weeks ago.
And it was difficult getting any further information. The
Castellan felt that the group was questioning his ability, as he did not KNOW
where the other casks of ale came from. There were 2 originally in the larder,
but obviously more were coming up. Everyone was working the 4 days, and they
had hired 6 more people, but the amount of drink imbibed during that time made
the Castellan’s notes and log books useless. We did verify though that 6
personages that were NOT part of the Castellan’s normal staff of 26 (including
the guards) were here for 3 of the 4 days of the Baron’s Daughter’s party and
might have been part of the party responsible for the strange going ons.
Meanwhile Fist’al made it to Pelis where after a strange
greeting passed some information back and forth and then left, heading back to
the Hall of Heroes with a rolled up leather scroll that had some information
for him. He sat in his chair, opened it, and it read, “Boo”. And then something
whizzed at him. He ducked; it hit the cabinet – a dart of some kind. Behind him
a set of shutters was open but no one was there.
On looking over the dart, the pressurized glass vial in
the heart of it burst, covering him in narcoleptic vapors. He fell to the
ground, pretending to be knocked out, and waited. It was when someone was
reaching for his magic ring that he latched onto its hand and stabbed the dart
into it. They scrambled for a bit and then Fist’al stood up and beheld…himself.
Son of a…what the hell???
He thrust out at it but it SPRUNG backwards, folding its
body into itself, and sailed through the shuttered windows to the street. The
elven thief gave chase, getting to the window in time to see his double cross
the street and start to climb the wall of the charcoaler. Then its body rippled
and claws grew from its hands and it seemed to turn into…a 6’ tall yellow
haired possum.
Aw…come on!!
He scrambled out the window and gave chase and it reached
the roof, pulling himself up slowly the side of the building. Panting he made
it to the top in time to see the pursued cross to Sutor’s forge and JUMP the
20’ across the road to the top of the closest Tanner’s Way hovel. It then
disappeared over the side and was lost. Furious, unable to give chase and it
was gone; Fist’al looked around Tanner’s Way briefly and then stormed his way
back to Pelis.
At this point the party was coming back from Castle
Canastal, where the noted the front door open, Fist’al missing, shutter open,
and a bloody stain on the ground. He wasn’t here and no one knows what
happened. Flimflam spoke with animals and had Whosea track the missing thief.
Fist’al meanwhile learned that he had (or a copy of him)
visited Pelis earlier, and in a fit of “not gonna happen”, ordered Pelis to
kill him (Fist’al) if he came to him and did not say a password first. Like “chocolate”.
He then returned to the Hall.
It was here that the tracking was not needed and Fist’al
told the group of what happened (doppelganger?) and they agreed to track the
scent of the blood stain. They went to Tanner’s Way and Whosea did his trick
again, leading the group to the home that we had been at earlier. Checking it
over, we found dirty bandages and the remains of a healing potion. We then went
back home.
Where we discovered we screwed up and had left the front
door opened and were now robbed. The major thing missing? The Vortex Cloak from
Candlewick Keep – capable of absorbing directed magic.
We no longer felt “safe” at the Hall and Fergus worked on
possible ways to peg the windows from inside as well as preventing them from
being picked from without. The day passed this way until it 9PM and it was time
to go the Cemetery and do our walk/patrol.
This time Fist’al and Auri went with Fergus, the two of
them eventually scaling the fence between the Cemetery and the Rescent
Homestead. They proceeded to look in the dark for any holes or signs of
digging, but after many hours, did not find. They then went to the barn where a
single mule was and looked around there. Only a single sleepy dog came to
investigate but after some time left. When it was done, they had found nothing
that showed any sort of tunnel/digging from the Rescent home to the Cemetery.
The group slept well that night and it was about 8:30 on
the morning of Firemonth the 8th and Father Gavilerin of the Hospice
had come to visit. He wanted Fergus to come and help him, two kids were in this
morning, one 4 year, one roughly a year, listless, feverish and sickly. The
paladin wasted no time and went off to the Hospice to help.
As for the rest of the group, it was fairly slow,
learning eventually that some of the “copied” deeds they had picked up were of
homes in Tanner’s Way – bracketing the Tannery itself. Finally Codron and Groon
came, two local warriors in training, wanting to walk picket with Fergus @ the
Cemetery. The night passed.
It was now the 9th of Firemonth and the group
went to the Pixie Down Inn where they ate breakfast with some 100 odd other
members of Shakun. A variety of foods were ordered, but it was roughly 20
minutes after the fact that we saw a patron get up on shaky legs, stagger a few
paces, and then fall down gasping. The party looked on in shock as another
person did the same. Flimflam began to sweat and was having trouble swallowing
and then Fist’al the same. The rest of the party was alright and hastened to
get our friends out and to the Hospice right away.
Their symptoms grew worse and Fergus ran ahead to
announce us to Father Gavilerin. Behind us in the Pixie Down Inn the sick
number continued and spilled into the street, over 20 people so far ill. At the
Hospice we had learned that another child had passed away this morning and then
the call came of more sick people being brought in.
The call was made to clear the streets and citizens to
return to their homes, thanks to Fergus’ quick thinking in getting the town
criers, the Captain of the guard, and the Marshall’s office involved. While
this was going on, Auri and Marcus took it upon themselves to try to piece
together what happened, and that meant getting to the Pixie Down Inn again.
They were stopped on the streets and escorted back to the
Hall of Heroes and told to stay there, which they did for 10 minutes or so
before sneaking out again and making their way to the Inn. Once there Madis,
the proprietor, bid them welcome and we learned that 37 people had gotten sick
from the Pixie Down Inn. The two friends investigated and narrowed it down to
the porridge served today. It was prepared with fresh milk just delivered from
the Mekarin Homestead (the only daily farm that close to Shakun, all others
were at much more distant homesteads). There was still some gallon or so left
and Madis was very unhappy of it, with the dead kids from today and a few days
ago, this was some sort of evil eye or hexery going on.
With some of the milk, the two friends made their way to
Tanner’s Way where they enticed a few bums to sit and talk to them, eventually
getting one of them to drink the suspect milk. As expected, 20 minutes plus
later he began to sweat, grow shaky, and then fall over sick. Not the nicest
thing to do, but bingo – identification of foul milk had occurred. They took
the bum to the Hospice and the day passed. Fist’al and Flimflam eventually
stabilized and would grow better after a day of rest.
The word around town was though (after the ban on leaving
was lifted that afternoon) was that the Marshall’s office discovered the same
thing Auri and Marcus did, and the townsfolk were wroth and angry and the
Mekarin family. Their deal with some of the locals for milk trade disappeared,
and the sick kids over the last 3 days were @ homes around their farm who had
purchased some of the milk on their own.
We suspected we would talk to the Mekarin family again
someday but most likely not until tomorrow. It was 9 PM and Fergus Codron and
Groon were going to walk picket again soon @ the Cemetery.
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