Gossip spread like wildfire throughout the streets of Caran Baru. Someone managed to disarm one of the golems at the temple of Tyrnai. The second golem, however, pummeled the fool to near death and had been sold into slavery as punishment. Cedric quickly deduced that they'd been talking about Hector, especially when he hadn’t returned to the Blue Griffon Tavern. They hadn’t discussed what to do if this had happened. But the troubadour understood the burglar had only wanted to complete the job to kill time before Ysolt finished her priestly training.
Knowing he couldn't raise the money to buy Hector back on his own, Cedric started to pack his gear. As he left the tavern, he overheard a pair of guardsmen questioning local patrons. They suggested possible accomplices and that the slave might have been staying at the tavern. While he was no wayfarer, he thought it best to head toward the inhospitable Coldbleak Mountains instead of taking the southbound road. From there, he figured he could find his way south, especially if he followed the Stinking River.
For days, he journeyed southward, using his sense of smell and the tales Hector told him of the rancid aroma of the Lake of the Sea Dragon to determine how close he was to the lake. He stopped only at the market in the fishing village of Cadmium to restock on supplies before continuing onward, following the southern yellow, sulfur-laden flow of the Stinking River.
As the river cut through higher ground, the weary bard climbed above the chasm the bubbling water had created and found himself in a small village called High Therys. To his amazement, it seemed as though he had arrived in time for what he assumed was a festival or feast. A pig roasted on a spit, and a table set with a spread of fruits overflowing from bowls, wheels of cheese, freshly churned butter, and steaming loaves of bread. Cedric approached a man who came out of the inn with huge bottles of wine. “Good morrow and happy feasting,” the bard said with a delighted grin, flourishing his feathered hat as he gracefully bowed to the innkeeper. “Please, may I join your gracious hosts in a fine meal? I promise, I would happily sing a ballad or two for my supper,” Cedric then offered in a rich, baritone voice as he rose from his bow, only to realize that the other man had hustled off toward the table. He turned to follow after, confused and curious about the innkeeper’s haste.
Sensing that he was being followed, the innkeeper turned with a start and waved his hands dismissively at the younger fellow. “Begone! Begone! This is not a feast for the living,” the innkeeper stated abruptly, nearly knocking Cedric over as he rushed to return to the inn. “Out of my way,” another voice huffed and puffed from behind the stumbling bard, making Cedric flail and animatedly change course to avoid colliding with a wealthy merchant carrying a heavy chest full of silver. Dipping back and forth, barely able to process what he had heard, he quickly saw the villagers who had been filling the table with food and coin rushing home to lock their doors and shutter their windows.
Daintily pinching the sleeve of someone before they were able to retreat, Cedric asked, “Pray tell! What is going on here?” His captive looked deathly pale. “This is a banquet for the dead,” the older man explained. “Seven years ago, three travelers lost their way during a storm. They fell into our millpond and drowned. If we do not placate their hunger, then they destroy our crops and herds.” This was an interesting story! Threats of hungry ghosts, though why all of the coins? Did ghosts eat coins? Surely the dead had no use for such wealth. “How do you know that they’ll ruin your crops and herds?” Cedric asked, looking back toward the table. “Old Megan told us,” the other fellow called back, having loosened the bard’s hold on his arm enough to rush home.
Who was Old Megan? How did she know of such things?
Unable to find anyone else who would answer his questions, Cedric decided he wanted to witness this spectacle of ghosts. He hid himself behind some hedges that offered him a clear view of the feasting table. Some time after twilight, just as he stifled a yawn, he caught a glimpse of three figures shuffling across the green. He assumed they came from the millpond, though he didn’t know the village’s layout well enough to be certain. They were pale, likely as ghosts would look, and cried out with glee at the sight of the feast. They quickly sat down and devoured the food with immense pleasure.
MAGIC DIFFICULTY – 11
Cedric’s Magic Score: 4 + 6 + 6 = 16 – PASSED!
Under the moon's dim light, the gluttonous ghosts feasted until they were full. Then, with loud groans and grunts, they hefted up the chest of coins and shuffled away from the table. Then, because of the treasure's weight, Cedric noticed something in the grass. Footprints. Deep footprints. Ghosts were incorporeal. They shouldn’t be able to leave behind footprints.
SCOUTING DIFFICULTY – 10
Under the moon's dim light, the gluttonous ghosts feasted until they were full. Then, with loud groans and grunts, they hefted up the chest of coins and shuffled away from the table. Then, because of the treasure's weight, Cedric noticed something in the grass. Footprints. Deep footprints. Ghosts were incorporeal. They shouldn’t be able to leave behind footprints.
SCOUTING DIFFICULTY – 10
Cedric’s Scouting Score:2 + 6 + 6 = 14 – PASSED!
The troubadour carefully eased himself from his position behind the hedge while the ghosts’ backs were to him. He waited until he could barely see them, then emerged from his hiding spot and quietly followed. Their footprints were easy enough to follow when he feared he had lost sight of them. He found himself approaching the village’s mill, where he saw two men and an old woman brushing flour from their clothes. “Another year’s successful haunting,” the woman cackled, and both men grinned in agreement.
Cedric quickly retraced his tracks and returned to the village. When he roused someone enough to open their door, he quickly revealed what he had seen. “Your ghosts are no apparitions at all! They are two men and a woman coated heavily in flour! They’ve been fooling you all!” The news spread quickly, and the villagers gathered and followed the bard to the mill to see his claims for themselves. When they burst into the mill and found the old woman and three men counting out the coins, the villagers quickly seized them!
Apparently, Old Megan had concocted the scheme and convinced the two other men to help her swindle their neighbors. It was ultimately decided that all three of them would be hanged in the morning. Cedric was awarded eighty shards, a free stay at the inn, and a hearty meal with fresh provisions for his journey.
The troubadour carefully eased himself from his position behind the hedge while the ghosts’ backs were to him. He waited until he could barely see them, then emerged from his hiding spot and quietly followed. Their footprints were easy enough to follow when he feared he had lost sight of them. He found himself approaching the village’s mill, where he saw two men and an old woman brushing flour from their clothes. “Another year’s successful haunting,” the woman cackled, and both men grinned in agreement.
Cedric quickly retraced his tracks and returned to the village. When he roused someone enough to open their door, he quickly revealed what he had seen. “Your ghosts are no apparitions at all! They are two men and a woman coated heavily in flour! They’ve been fooling you all!” The news spread quickly, and the villagers gathered and followed the bard to the mill to see his claims for themselves. When they burst into the mill and found the old woman and three men counting out the coins, the villagers quickly seized them!
Apparently, Old Megan had concocted the scheme and convinced the two other men to help her swindle their neighbors. It was ultimately decided that all three of them would be hanged in the morning. Cedric was awarded eighty shards, a free stay at the inn, and a hearty meal with fresh provisions for his journey.
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