Aftermath of Murder, He Wrote!

With the laying to rest of the unquiet spirts of the Harlath (and more importantly, if not widely known, the dispatching of the proto-demon ultimately behind it all), work was able to begin on the refurbishment of the grand old theater. Given it’s long, fearful, and well-deserved reputation, Toran had suspected that it might be hard to convince the various tradesmen involved to undertake the task; but Marliza Farim was not only a shrewd merchant, but a very canny public relations maven.

She quickly found a living playwright who was willing to give poor, undead Angus Rapling’s magnum opus a final polish, while she publicly played up the drama and the tragedy of it all in the weekly broadsheets. The same broadsheets that were also spreading the reputation of the Hand across the City – a process which fascinated almost all of the group. Paper was still a fairly new thing in Ukalus and the surrounding states of northern Ysgareth, its introduction from the West little more than a decade past; the very idea of collecting news and stories and printing them for sale was completely unheard of back home.

“I understand they’ve only been doing it here in Avantir for about 15 years,” Draik said one morning as he and Mariala were perusing the latest edition of the Imperial Cryer together over breakfast pastries and steaming cups of chocolate. “Paper itself has been around for at least a century here, but it only really took off after Lord Kavyn introduced this mechanical printing contraption, a bit over 20 years ago.”

“Hmmm, but paper is rather cheap-feeling, don’t you think,” Mariala said fingering the sheet she held and wrinkling her nose. “Parchment is both thicker and… well, just more pleasant feeling.”

“And about ten times as expensive,” Draik laughed. “But what did you think of those documents you and the others received from the University, confirming your rank and privileges as new Vendari? Those were hand-written, not printed, sure – but they were written on paper, a very high-quality type of paper.

“I understand there’s many grades of paper, and of course the broadsheets use the cheapest, to keep costs down. That’s why they can sell ‘em for two copper bits each week, not two silver coins. The printers putting out books use a better grade, of course, and the rich and noble use the most expensive grades for their correspondence.”

“Well, our guild documents were very nice,” Mariala allowed. “I didn’t really pay attention to the medium, at the time, but I do remember thinking the “parchment” quite fine, very thick and substantial. If paper like that is cheaper than parchment, perhaps I should think about experimenting with it for my Remote Writing enchantment…”

“Oh, it’s more expensive than what the broadsheets use, but still a lot cheaper than the good parchment you use.” Draik leaned in and dropped his voice conspiratorially, even though they were alone in the sun room. “In fact, I’m thinking about having that marvelous hand-made copy of Merasid’s Illuminated Botanica that Vulk gifted me last year reproduced in print, so I can sell them in the shop back home. It’s an extraordinarily thorough encyclopedia of plant life around the globe, and so rare that I’m sure I could make a fortune if I could produce affordable copies.”

“I’ve seen the book,” Mariala laughed. “Printing the words I can see, but wouldn’t all those hand-painted illustrations still keep it prohibitively expense?

“If I tried to recreated them exactly, sure. But that Bizwyk fellow you guys picked up has been buried in my copy practically since I showed it to him. I’ve mentioned my idea to him, and while the money side doesn’t particularly interest him, the idea of being able to spread such knowledge more widely really does.

“He’s actually a very gifted artist himself – have you seen those sketches of his from that volcanic island you visited? He’s volunteered to do recreations of the botanical illustrations ‘in a more scientific way,’ one which can be etched onto printer’s plates. Which I like for a number of reasons…”

“Not least of which, I imagine, is that it would keep your hand-made original’s value high,” Mariala noted with a slight smile.

Draik shrugged, but didn’t deny it. After breakfast, the two of them made a trip down to a paper manufactury in the Fourth Circle for some shopping…

• • • • • •

Despite their increased notoriety in the City, the immensity of a million people still meant they had little trouble keeping their anonymity in public. They did, however, notice an increase in invitations to both noble and wealthy soirees, dinners, fetes, and garden parties. They accepted a judicious number of these invitations, in various combinations of attendees.

One such event which the entire Hand attended together, however, was a formal reception given on 5 Turniki by the newly arrived ambassador from the distant land of Ty Kyen, the fabled Great Kingdom of far Eastern Ishkala. Despite their recent bump into minor fame, Vulk was a little surprised at the invitation – most of the guests where ambassadors or other dignitaries from the many embassies in the City, and Imperial officials or nobles. Despite being the official representative of the new Kingdom of Ukalus, Vulk suspected the Ty Kyen diplomat was unlikely to have even heard of it.

“Eh, maybe it was Lord Kavyn’s doing,” Devrik suggested as they were preparing to leave for the event. “I understand he’ll be making an appearance tonight, in the Emperor’s name. Or maybe the man is one of our recent fans, and just wants to meet the heroes of the hour.”

“If that, more likely someone on his staff is the fan,” Toran laughed. “I understand the new delegation arrived less than a tenday ago, after all. And you have to admit, it’s a great way to get a fancy party on your birthday without your friends having to spend a copper! My 26th certainly wasn’t this fancy…”

In the event, the reception proved a fascinating evening for everyone. The cosmopolitain, international ambience, with guests of almost every color, race and species, from dozens of cultures and every corner of the world, was both exciting and intellectually stimulating, Mariala thought. Their host, Ambassador Mai Shin, was particularly fascinating, and rather handsome, in a very exotic way.

Tall, slender and dark, with the golden-amber skin of eastern Ishkala, it was hard to tell his precise build, beneath the colorful and elaborately embroidered silken ceremonial robes of his office, though he was obviously not fat. She did note that his eyes had less of the epicanthal fold than others of his race in the entourage which trailed behind him as he stepped up to greet his new guests.

“Good evening, my most honored guests,” the man said in a strong tenor voice, his Yashpari only lightly accented by the musical cadences of his native tongue. “I am Mai Shin, and have the great honor to be the representative of the Golden Emperor of Ty Kyen to the Coral Throne of Emperor Gil-Garon of Oceania. You do my Emperor honor to grace us with your presence this evening, and in His name I welcome each of you.

“Lady Mariala Teryne, Margarve of Greentower in the kingdom of Ukalus, be welcome here,” he said, taking her right hand in his own, then covering both with his left hand and bowing his head. His grip was surprisingly strong, and rather cool, and she felt a frisson of excitement at his brief touch. She flushed as he released her hand and moved on.

“Ser Vulk Elida, Queen’s Herald of the Kingdom of Ukalus and Cantor of Kasira, be welcome here,” and repeated the gesture with her friend. With a start she realized he was as tall as Vulk. She also noted that she wan’t the only one to blush at the man’s touch.

“S’hem Toran Quickhand of the Stone Peoples, Shadow Guard to the Prince of Dürkon, be welcome here,” he said, moving on to the Khundari. Who didn’t seem particularly moved my the ambassador’s magnetism, Mariala saw, although he did bow his head in polite return.

And so it went down the line, as the elegant and urbane eastern envoy welcomed each member of the Hand in turn, by name and titles, finishing with Erol. Mariala thought he hesitated for just a second, as if something about the former gladiator surprised him… but if so, the hesitation was so brief it might have been her imagination.

“Ser Erol Doritar, son of the Republic of Kildora,“ he started, then paused… “But are you not one of the Star Children? We are not aware in the East that the Telnori were a significant presence Republican lands… but forgive my impertinent question, and be welcome here,” he concluded, firmly clasping hands and giving his short head-bow.

“It’s a long story, Ambassador,” Erol offered, returning the gesture. “Perhaps I can entertain you with it on another, less busy, occasion.”

“Indeed, I think I would enjoy that, my friend,” Mai Shin said graciously, and then excused himself to the group as he moved on to greet the Mymytron of the Ocean Empire, who had just arrived with his own entourage.

“What an interesting man,” Mariala muttered to herself. Overhearing, Draik grinned and elbowed her in the side.

“So, does Dr. Ar’Harnol have something to be worried about, m’lady?” he smirked, ducking quickly away as she whirled to glare at him. Damn, she thought they’d been so discreet, so careful… how many other people knew of the burgeoning… whatever exactly it was she had with Lurin?

She considered pursuing her annoying friend to pry out precisely what he knew, or thought he knew, but he vanished with alacrity into the throng. She gave a shrug and decided finding a drink would be more enjoyable anyway. She was on her second glass of a very nice Murian white when her thoughts were interrupted by the deep voice of the Myrmytron at her elbow.

“Lady Mariala, how goes it with you this evening? You seem a bit distracted. Are you not enjoying this rather eclectic gathering our latest ambassador has assembled to entertain and amuse us?” he asked, sipping his own flagon of something dark and spicy smelling.

“Mmmm? Oh, no, it’s quite fascinating, really, though I haven’t circulated much yet. I was just thinking about trying to find our host again, actually. He seemed quite a… dynamic man, in our brief meeting.”

“He does seem to possess a very mesmerizing personality,” Lord Kavyn agreed, smiling slightly. “Very different from his predecessor, poor Li Ren Kar. It will be interesting to see how he does in his new position. Oceania and Ty Kyen having little enough in the way of mutual interests, or conflicts, a posting here isn’t very prestigious. He seems, as you said, rather too dynamic to have wanted it… I wonder if it’s some kind of punishment? I’ll have to ask one of my… colleagues if she knows much about the man.”

By his very slight emphasis on the world “colleague” Mariala knew he meant one of his associates on the Star Council. Probably that exotically beautiful older Ishkali woman she’d seen when the Hand had rescued the kidnapped council from the clutches of the Vortex, on that hidden island no one was supposed to talk about.

“You said ‘poor Li Ren Kar,’ Lord Kavyn,” she said, deciding it was best not ask anything about the Council in this venue. “Did something happen to the man?”

“You could say so,” the Myrmytron replied, rather dryly. “A construction accident at the embassy awhile back – a rope broke and a very heavy stone block crushed the poor man as he was stepping out for his morning stroll about the gardens. Actually, it happened about a tenday after you arrived in the City, I’m surprised you didn’t hear of it.”

“Well, we were still pretty overwhelmed by this place,” Mariala admitted. “I don’t think we’d even learned about the broadsheets at that point, and Shala knows we hadn’t made many contacts outside of Korwin. And you, of course.”

“Of course,” Lord Kavyn replied, smiling broadly. “And speaking of contacts, let me introduce you to the Tur Kovani envoy – I suspect you’ll find her an interesting study, but keep your wits about you. Like most of her folk, she’s a devious, slippery one!”

The conversation with the envoy had indeed been a stimulating and energizing one, and had been followed my several others almost as interesting. It was after midnight when Mariala regrouped with the others, who had apparently all had equally fascinating conversations with the wildest assortment of people any of them had ever experienced. She was glad to realize that she wasn’t the only one who was feeling a little provincial just then.

For the next tenday the Hand were busy pursuing their various interests, from learning new spells in new convocations, to figuring out the printing business, to forging new tools and weapons. These occupations were often solitary ones, or with only one or two other companions, but they did try to maintain regular meals as a group. The only other time they tended to be all together was for the regular sparring sessions, led by Erol and Toran, to keep their battle edge well-honed.

It was on one such day, the 15th of Turniki, that the first of the tragedies struck. The Hand, with Captain Renault along, arrived at the nearby gladiator school where they were wont to have their workouts, to find the place in a turmoil. One of their newer recruits had died that very morning, in a gruesome and mysterious fashion.

At his news Vulk had a sudden, chilling premonition. Grabbing the porter, who had been telling them of the tragedy, by the shoulders, he’d demanded to know who had died. On hearing the name, he released the man and turned away, unable to look at his shocked friends as tears welled up.

The dead man was Therok, the barbarian fighter who had developed an abiding respect (a crush, really, when you got down to it) for Vulk in the arid waste of the Blasted March last year, and had thrown over his life to follow the cantor, and Kasira. But even crushes wear off, and while the two men were still fond of each other, they both realized things had run their course. When, at the beginning of the month, Therok had requested permission to leave his service and train as a gladiator, Vulk had released him with good will, if a bit of sadness.

Now, fifteen days later, he was dead. “When did this happen, exactly,” he demanded of the school’s porter. “And where is his body?”

“Why, it was during this morning’s training rounds, Ser,” the old man replied, clearly a bit shaken at the cantor’s violent reaction to his news. “He was sparring, got a bit of a nick on a bicep, they say, nothing to remark about, really. But a minute later he was on the ground in a fit, and foaming from the mouth! They called for the physician, who wasn’t far away, of course, not during a sparring session, but the poor fellow was dead before he got there.”

Vulk was in no mood for opposition, and with his friends following behind, he bulled his way through the various layers of the school’s functionaries to get to the infirmary, where Therok’s body still lay. It had been hours since his death, of course, and there was no hope of saving him… if he’d been put in Stasis, maybe… but there’d been no one present able to cast such a spell or perform such a ritual, and there was nothing to be done.

But Vulk used his own psionic healing senses, amplified by the Staff of Summer, to peer into his friend’s cold form, to find out what had killed him. Poison, obviously, but of what sort? He saw the fading pathways of the body, and the killer was obvious – a dark malignancy that clearly didn’t belong, and continued to seep into tissues even after it had done its demon’s work. But what it was, he couldn’t say, he’d never seen anything like it.

The Hand used every influence they had, real or invented on the spot, to learn what was being done. The authorities were even then questioning the sparring partner, who had inflicted the oh-so-minor wound, and Vulk once again forced himself into the interrogation, with an assist from Devrik. But the man, clearly upset and afraid, proved innocent of any knowledge of the poison on his blade – both Vulk and Mariala’s ability to know truth from lies confirmed it.

Draik, very carefully, took a sample of the substance from the blade, and promised to do all he could to determine what it was and where it might have come from. Eventually there was nothing else to be done, and the Hand returned home to Bekatia House, leaving Vulk to to make arrangements for Therok’s cremation and funeral.

Still bleakly considering why someone would want to kill the Firilani tribesman, and in such a way — could it be some old tribal feud that had followed him here, into the heart of the Empire? It seemed unlikely, but given that Draik had concluded it was some sort of powerful alkaloid, plant-based poison (something very much in the northern barbarian’s tradition), it couldn’t be ruled out.

Everyone went to bed in various degrees of upset and concern, but their restless sleep was broken an hour before dawn, by frantic pounding on the front door. A runner from the Wind of Kasira’s crew had arrived breathless from the Tide Pool to inform them that the ship was burning. Most of the Hand, hastily dressed, had rushed out to follow the lad back to the docks, only Devrik staying behind.

“I don’t like it,” he growled to Vulk, as the cantor belted on his sword. “First Therok, and now the ship? It might be coincidence, but then again it might not. If someone is targeting us, what better time to strike here, once we’ve all run off to the docks? No, I’m staying to protect Raven and Aldari.”

Vulk tried to convince his friend to come— his control, such as it was, over fire might be the key to saving their ship. But even with Erol promising to take his place as guardian, he was adamant. With no time to argue, the others left, although Jeb was up and armed to stand watch as well by then.

The origin of the fire was as mysterious as Therok’s poisoning, in its own way, but not as complete. Maybe it was the alien-treated materials, or perhaps the Immortal Lady of Luck was looking out for her own, but either way, while the fire did extensive damage to rigging, spars and sails, Captain K’Jurol and the crew contained the flames before the superstructure suffered anything more than cosmetic damage. It would take some time, a deal of money, and a lot of sweat, but the Wind of Kasira would sail again, as good as new, he assured the breathless Hand when they arrived.

Unfortunately, two crewmen had died in fighting the fire, and several others, including the Captain, had suffered various degrees of burns. Vulk and Lurin Ar’Hanol quickly set about treating the injured. By the time the sun rose over the Encircling Hills an exhausted Vulk was drawing the last of the heat from Captain K’Jurol’s burned hand as Dr. Ar’Hamol rubbed raw Baylorium into the still pink flesh.

The Höl Kopia holiday, the celebration of the autumnal equinox and the beginning of harvest time, went largely unobserved by the Hand and their associates. Everyone remained at Bekatia House, and the Hand obsessively went over the events of last two days, looking for a connection. Once again everyone retired for the evening exhausted and uncertain.

The next day Raven insisted that there would be no more moping about – they’d wasted Höl Kopia, but this was the day of the Hunter’s Feast, an important day in her own people’s calendar, and she planned to have a proper feast. With Devrik and Erol as body guards, Raven and the cook scoured the local markets for a variety of foods that morning, and by late afternoon a fabulous feast was indeed presented to the household.

Only Mariala was not present, as Lurin Ar’Hanol had come by around noon, to pull her away for a private surprise celebration. Raven had waved off their apologies with a smile, and told them both to relax and enjoy themselves.

“Oh, I suspect we will,” the doctor had said with a mischievous grin. Which had made Mariala wondered what was up… until they arrived at the very upscale Sea Foam Inn, in the Third Circle, where a nervous-looking Captain K’Jurol was waiting for them. At Mariala’s uncertain look, Lurin laughed, pulling her toward their table, as the Captain hastily rose.

“You don’t know what it took to drag Belith away from his ship, Mariala, after yesterday’s disaster. But I’ve wanted the three of us to get together for awhile now, and I planned this a tenday ago; I wasn’t taking no for an answer! So here we all are, now let’s forget our troubles and have some fun!”

Which, after an little initial awkwardness, they did. Right up until the dessert course, when Lurin, in the middle of both her chocolate tort and a description of the luxurious room she’d taken upstairs, suddenly began to choke. Her eyes widening in panic, the physician staggered up, clawing at her throat, mouth gaping as she struggled to draw air through a constricted throat. Both Mariala and Belith rushed to help her, but nothing they did seem to effect the spasming woman. Lurin was turning blue, and her struggles grew steadily weaker, until she fell to the floor, no longer breathing.

“I can’t find a pulse,” Belith cried, looking across at Mariala from where he knelt, fingers to Lurin’s blue-tinged neck. “Dear gods, she’s dead! How could this—“

“No!” Mariala shook her head vehemently from the other side fo Lurin’s body, clenching a fist and glaring at the rainbow gemstone ring there. She poured all of her will into that Focus, and thanked Kasira that the first new Neutral spell she had chosen to learn as a Vendari had been Stasis. They would not have a repeat of the tragedy of Therok, not if she could help it.

“Let go of her, Belith,” she said, almost unconsciously using the Voice. He scrambled away instantly, a very surprised look on his face. And then she had cast the spell… yes, the Form was perfect… she felt the Principle flow into it… the spell took shape…

A flickering blue glow surrounded the fallen physician, quickly stabilizing into a sheen of solid, translucent blue energy… which only made her blue-tinted face look even more death-like, Mariala thought. But inside that glowing cocoon she knew time was no longer passing, which meant there was still a chance to revive her friend.

“Belith, I’ve stopped whatever is going on, whatever poison this is, but we need Vulk and the Staff of Summer NOW! Go as fast as you can, bring both back with you!”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to carry her back, cut the travel time in half—“

“No! This stasis field is practically frictionless, making it almost impossible to carry without it slipping from our grip like an oiled icicle. It took us forever to rig up a way to carry that idiot Torbel… just go, bring Vulk!”

She didn’t have to use the Voice, he got up and was out the door at a run, shoving ruthlessly through the crowd of gawkers who had gathered around them. Mariala prayed to Shala and Kasira that her first field casting of the spell would hold until help could arrive…

• • • • • •

Unfortunately, at that moment, Vulk was gasping himself, trying to breath through an airway suddenly constricted to almost nothing. Around him, he was dimly aware that others at the table were also gasping and struggling, but he had no attention to spare… he had to turn his psionic awareness inward, to sense whatever was doing this to him… he’d done it once before, he understood… but this was so sudden, it was so hard to think, to focus… suddenly he felt something being shoved onto his right hand… the Staff of Summer!

Time seemed to slow, and his panic began to fade. He could feel the power of the Staff flowing through him, expanding his internal sense of his own body… yes, there was the foreign invader, the poison closing his throat… and doing more than that… in minutes it would also paralyze his heart, he realized. Or it would have. Now he could see it, though, and he knew how to change it, to twist its own structure around to make it inert, harmless… he did so.

Only a few seconds had past since Toran had shoved the Staff into Vulk’s spasming hand, and already he could tell it had been the right move. The cantor was standing up, the blue tint fading from his skin like a morning mist in the sun. But around the table, others were still gasping… and dying.

Devrik was frantically trying to help both his wife and his son at the same time, as they choked and writhed and turned blue; Draik was supporting the gasping Ser Bizwyk on the opposite side to the table, helpless to do more; and in the doorway to the kitchen the young house boy, Bari, had collapsed, spilling a tray of plates he’d been clearing.

“Vulk, do something!” The Khundari cried, furious at his own helplessness…

Murder, He Wrote!

The Harlath Theater lies not far from the center of the suburban village of Khuronton, its lot surrounded by a screen of trees and a sagging wrought-iron fence which, while locked, is easily scaled. Weeds push through the cobblestone walkways and crude graffiti are scrawled at various points across the stonework. Inside the theater, . Unless otherwise stated, the theater’s features are described as follows:

Ceilings, Walls, and Floors 

The theater’s exterior walls are built from hewn blocks of sandstone. Interior walls are paneled hardwood, and while the hardwood floorboards may complain under any movement, they remain sound. Ceilings throughout the theater’s backstage areas are 3 meters high.

Interior Doors

Doors within the theater are made of oak wood and open outward on their hinges.

Exterior Doors

All exterior doors to the theater have been locked and further reinforced with chained padlocks. The keys to both padlocks and doors are long missing, but the padlocks can be opened with a successful

Dexterity check using thieves’ tools; the doors themselves can be opened with a similar check or a successful Strength check.

Light

Heavy curtains are drawn over the theater’s few

windows, shrouding its interior in darkness even during the height of day.

These areas are keyed to the floor-plans:

1. Amphitheater

Semicircular rows of layered seating descend below grade toward a cracked stone stage. Pieces of litter and old food scraps are strewn about. A trio of staircases evenly spaced throughout the amphitheater provide access to row levels. Two tunnel entrances at the bottom at the steps lead presumably to backstage areas.

The litter left about the amphitheater has been left over the years by youths and other explorers who sometimes like to sit upon the steps at night and observe the theater from a safe distance. Characters might notice, in their peripheral vision, a few mice startled at the party’s approach and disappear into holes in the stone.

The two tunnels at the lowest level of the amphitheater each extend for a few feet before terminating at a pair of double doors. 

2. Main Stage

The main stage of the Harlath is barren save for crude graffiti and piles of litter. Multiple locked doors lead to the theater’s interior.

3. Fountain Plaza

Weathered stone tables and toppled chairs are scattered throughout this barren plaza. In the plaza’s centre is a parched, geometrically-shaped fountain. Kiosks flank the east and west ends of the plaza. Wooden shutters pulled over their service counters have been shattered through, exposing their interiors to the elements.

Patrons gathered at this plaza before and after shows to mingle and enjoy food and drink served from the kiosks. The kiosks have been used previously by explorers as entrances to the theater’s interior, as breaking through their shutters is easier than bypassing the locked and reinforced doors.

4. East Kiosk

The hole smashed through the shutter of this kiosk is big enough for creatures of Medium size or smaller to squeeze through with little effort. When the characters enter, read aloud:

The interior of this kiosk is a mess. A food preparation station is in disarray; some pots and pans still rest upon a large hearth against the far wall, but others are scattered over the floor, along with various other utensils that have been knocked off of nearby shelves. Open doors lead into a storage closet and a stairwell.

Any food items were cleared out shortly after the theater closed, and there is little else of value in this kiosk. The storage closet contains nothing but bare shelves and empty containers. The stairwell leads down to the main and subsurface levels of the theater.

5. West Kiosk

The hole smashed through the shutter of this kiosk is big enough for creatures of Medium size or smaller to squeeze through with minimal effort. 

This kiosk looks to have been thoroughly rummaged through. Dirt, debris, and rusting cooking utensils litter the floor. On the far wall, above two hearths, the words “Masa was here” are scrawled in red paint. Open doors lead into a storage closet and a stairwell.

The graffiti in this kiosk is the result of a completed dare by a youth a generation ago. The storage closet contains nothing but bare shelves and empty containers. The stairwell leads down to the main and subsurface levels of the theater.

6. Stairwell

These stairwells connect the balcony, stage, and subsurface levels of the theater. They creak heavily under any weight, but remain structurally sound.

7. Set Storage Room

Items of furniture and panels of wood painted to resemble various set pieces are scattered about this room, loosely organized. The room overlooks the main backstage area to the east. A winch hangs over the platform.

Furniture and set pieces were kept in this room when not in use. There is nothing of significant value to be found here. The winch is operated by a hand crank to raise and lower a wooden platform between the backstage area and this storage room. The noise of the winch’s operation will startle

a bat that hangs from the ceiling concealed behind a tall cardboard statue, causing it to fly screeching into the rafters of the backstage area.

8. Workshop

Shelves stocked with tools line the west wall of this room. Piles of lumber flank the north and south walls. Dark brown stains cover large parts of the floor. In the middle of the room, laid atop a workbench, is a humanoid-looking figure of bone and wood. The room and a winch overlook the main backstage area to the west.

In better days, this workshop was used to construct all manner of set pieces and props for the theater’s performances. Now, it is being used by Argus Rapling, who is building himself a foul mannequin out of the remains of an explorer who broke his way into the theater a few weeks ago and was killed by the caretaker. 

The dark stains on the floor are old bloodstains from the caretaker’s dismembering and disposal of the rest of the body. Further inspection of the mannequin on the workbench reveals it to be of distorted humanoid proportions, with longer limbs than would be expected for the stoutness of its torso. Bits of bone have been woven with twine around slats of wood. A skull is mounted atop a barrel torso. A successful Physician check can confirm the bones are human.

9. Backstage Balcony

A raised scaffolding platform connects the performance balcony to the main backstage area below. Two sets of stairs in the middle of the balcony and a ladder on both the west and east ends of the balcony provide access. Multiple doors at the north end of the balcony likely open into the performance area beyond. 

Like the theater’s other exterior doors, these doors are locked and chained up from the outside.

Hazard: East Ladder. The ladder providing east balcony access is in poor condition, and will fail under the weight of the next Medium or larger creature that attempts to climb it. When the ladder fails in this way, the creature must make a successful Agility roll to avoid falling as one of the wooden rungs gives away. A character who fails

this roll falls 1d10 feet to the ground below.

10. Performance Balcony

This balcony was probably used as an extension of the main stage for performances. It is speckled with bird poop and littered with stones, likely thrown up from the amphitheater below by generations of bored children.

Trap: Swinging Axe. Argus has rigged both of these stairwells with tripwires that cause an axe, previously suspended from the ceiling above by a crude system of pullies, to swing downward when triggered. Those with a suitable light source can use passive Awareness higher will notice either the tripwire running across one of the stairs or the axe suspended to the ceiling. Anyone who unsuspectingly activates the tripwire must make a successful Agility roll or take slashing damage. Once triggered, the trap mist be reset manually by Argus.

11. Privies

These two stalls are filled with buckets beneath holed benches as well as empty washbasins.

12. Private Dressing Rooms

Ornate vanities trimmed with silver and gold filigree fill these small dressing rooms. Standing mirrors are noticeably free of dust. Clothing racks still hold some of the pieces worn during the last performance ever held at the Harlath.

13. Writer’s Room

The door to this room is ajar. On entering you see that it is in disarray. Books and the pages torn from them are scattered over a large oak table and its surrounding chairs, partially drape themselves over a piano against the north wall, and litter the floor. Half-emptied shelves line the walls. As you enter, the skeleton of a cat crawls out from under the table and begins to approach you at a lazy saunter, its eye sockets burning with pinpoints of soft blue light. 

Scripts and musical pieces were drafted in this room by Zamarin Imgarhol and her team. Argus, recognizing the room as representative of his bullying and exclusion, has trashed it and the majority of the works kept within it.

Scritches the Cat 

The skeletal cat is what remains of Argus’s pet, Scritches, who eventually died of natural causes and was animated by the same forces that keep the caretaker bound to the theater. Scritches’ mannerisms are identical to that of many living cats—Scritches is curious and somewhat friendly, and will approach party members in the room looking for pets and Scritches along its spine. A character who makes a successful Animal Handling (or similar) roll or Wisdom roll will quickly bond with Scritches, causing the cat to follow them around thereafter, until the character acts in a way that is hostile to Scritches.

14. Prop Storage

These alcoves backstage are laden with all manner of performance props — instruments, replica weapons, pieces of fake jewelery, and all manner of items, both interesting and mundane.

Encounter: Swords at East Prop Storage. In the east storage area is a box that contains six wooden prop swords. The swords, animated by the same magic that binds Argus, will fly into the air and attack any characters that come within 10 feet of the box, fighting until they are destroyed. The swords using flying sword statistics.

15. Cast Dressing Room

This larger communal dressing room is filled with vanities, clothing racks, and mirrors. The spectral figure of a young man hovers in the middle of the room, before a full-length mirror, gazing at his face, which looks to have been partially caved in. The figure turns to you. 

“Haven’t seen a living person in a long time,” it says,” sounding quite sad.

This dressing room was where non-star members of the cast got ready for performances. It has remained mostly untouched since the theater’s abandonment. The furniture is of fine quality, but there is otherwise nothing of any significant value to be found here.

The Ghost of Hakim

The spectral figure in this room is the ghost of a young man named Hakim, who was felled by Argus years ago while exploring the theater with his friends, most of whom managed to escape after Hakim was slain. Hakim poses no threat to the party, and is eager to have some living people to talk to after some lonely years in the theater. His face, contorted by his violent death, is marked by a weak smile. He hopes that the party may be able

to recover his remains and subsequently put him to rest. In exchange, Hakim freely shares his the story of his death with the party, as well as the following information:

Hakim has observed the corporeal spirit of the theater for long enough to believe that it is its former caretaker.

The spirit often groans loudly in a way that approximates singing, and moves through the theater dusting off its surfaces.

The caretaker has been using Hakim’s remains to build a mannequin as some sort of macabre arts and crafts project that takes place in the theater’s workshop.

An undead cat is present in the theater. Hakim believes the cat was the pet of the caretaker in life – and perhaps still is.

The caretaker spends most of its time in the depths of the theater’s storage room.

Hakim believes that one of his friends, who fled into the bowels of the theater, was also slain by the caretaker, but he’s not seen his spirit, if so.

Hakim doesn’t dare check the lower level for fear of the caretaker and what he might find. Hakim further explains that he would greatly appreciate

it if the party can recover his remains and arrange for them to be burned appropriately so that he may move on to the next life. He would prefer not to accompany the party during any further exploration of the theater, for he wishes to stay away from the caretaker, who still seems able to cause him pain, despite his own current incorporeal form.

16. Backstage

This area was kept clear for easy movement during performances. Staircases in the center of the room rise to the backstage balcony. A crank-operated elevator platform near the west end of the room allows for transport of large items to and from backstage to the storage areas one level below (Area 19). 

The elevator still works and can support up to three hundred pounds without failure, though the noise of its crank echoes throughout the empty theater. Its platform is currently lowered to the level below.

17. Lift Elevator

This elevator is operated via the hand-crank in the backstage area of the level above.

18. Manuscript Storage

This small room is a mess. Books and scrolls that had once sat on the shelves that line the walls have been pulled onto the floor and torn to shreds.

The team at the Harlath had written many plays and musicals, more than they could rehearse and perform. This room was used to file them away for future use or sale to other performance companies. Like the writer’s room, Argus destroyed most of the contents of this room in his rage.

19. Mannequin Storage

In the shadows you see several faceless humanoid figures, dark and menecing, arranged in various poses, huddled togehter into this cramped room—after a momentary start, you relaize they are just mannequins. 

The Harlath often used mannequins as background extras in larger scenes where live actors were not required.

Encounter: Swarms of Spiders. Any creature that steps more than two feet into this room agitates two swarms of spiders that recently hatched beneath a pile of mannequins. The spiders attack until reduced to half their hit points or fewer, at which point they disperse and flee. 

20. Dressing Room

Characters approaching this room can hear ragged breathing and scratching coming from beyond the door. When the characters enter, read aloud:

This dressing room smells of foul decay. Racks of clothing and costumes line the near walls. Against the far wall is a dresser, a standing mirror spattered with old blood, and a chair.

This dressing room was used as extra storage, and for when larger performances occupied the rooms on the upper level. The clothing here is stinking and dusty.

Encounter: Hakim’s Friend Davoz. The sounds from within this room come from a friend of Hakim’s, named Davoz, who was also slain by the undead caretaker after he discovered them exploring the theater. Unlike his luckier (or wiser) friends, Davoz fled to the lower level of the theater and attempted to hide in this room before the caretaker found him and put an axe through his head. 

Argus then left the room intending to return for cleanup later, closing the door behind him. Now, foul necrotic energies have reanimated Davoz as an angry corpse that attacks any and all living creatures. As soon as the party opens the door to this room, Davoz lunges forward in a frenzy of teeth and gnarled hands, fighting until he is destroyed. Davoz is a ghast with a 60 Constitution.

21. Below Stage Area

Barrels and other containers line the walls of this spacious chamber. Three lift mechanisms in the centre of the room rise to the ceiling and, by Toran’s estimation, the main stage above.

The lift mechanisms in this room were used to raise and lower actors and set pieces during actual performances. The containers around this room hold spare parts, cleaning supplies, and worn and broken set pieces, once scheduled for restoration.

22. Hallway 

This hallway connects to the tunnels that lead to the amphitheater. The tunnels and this hallway were occasionally incorporated into shows for more immersive performances.

23. Storage Room

The double doors to this spacious chamber are slightly ajar. It is dimly lit by the flickering of candlelight, which comes from several half-melted candles standing atop a table covered in a grey sheet in the middle of the room. Scattered across the table is an inkwell, quill, and several pages of parchment packed with script. Large set pieces piled against the walls cast long shadows across the room.

Argus the Caretaker. Argus spends most of his time here, reading, re-reading, and modifying the script that he originally presented to Zamarin years ago. When he notices the characters, he moves quickly to attack unless they can quickly make an appeal to him with a successful Rhetoric (Persuasion) roll or a successful  Wisdom–Religion check (see Appeasing Argus below). 

Alternatively, if Scritches is accompanying the party, Argus will not attack unless directly provoked for fear of upsetting his pet. Argus is a wight. He wields a felling axe instead of a longsword, but his statistics are unchanged. If his corporeal form is destroyed, it crumbles to dust and disappears entirely within moments as his spirit is banished from the theater.

Appeasing Argus. If he is not destroyed, Argus can be put to rest by having someone acknowledge the work that he has put into his script. The energies that reanimated Argus have preserved parts of his personality and most of his memory, though he is twisted by anger and resentment and can speak only in stumbling, fragmented sentences. 

If the party successfully appeases Argus by asking how they can help him, what angers him, or a similar sort of question, Argus will explain the following to the characters in as few groaning words as possible:

He was tortured and disrespected by the theater staff.

They ridiculed him for his script which he showed them.

If the theater will not value his work, then Argus will make sure that nobody makes use of the theater again.

He was pushed to his limit and did not deserve to be treated the way he was. He only wanted his work to be considered fairly.

Argus has written a genuinely impressive work—any positive acknowledgment of his work is enough for his spirit to rest. Depending on how the party communicates with Argus, this may be as simple as one party member taking the time to read it and providing Argus with honest feedback. Or, they may promise to Argus that they will shop it around to other theater companies in the hope of it being picked up for performance. It is important that the party is genuine in their appreciation, as Argus will notice disregard for his script or see through any lies about their feelings and immediately attack the party. If Argus is moved by the party’s acknowledgment of his work, he thanks them, sits down, begins to sob, and then slowly crumbles to dust. 

ALTERNATE (if adventure runs short) 

If Argus is appeased and begins to fade, his spirit visibly rising form his rotting corporeal form, then the young demon which has possessed him since before his death will rise to seize control, restraining the enslaved spirit.

The demon will attack with what powers it has, to stay in its host (the only one it has known). If the physical form is destroyed, or if Argus’ spirit is freed to move on to his afterlife, the demon will try to jump to a new host (Mental Combat).

If the Bowl of Barsol is present, or some other spirit trap, it will be possible to capture the demon wihin such a device, once it is free of its host

Aftermath 

Marliza Farim will be eager to hear of the party’s experiences in the theater. Before she delivers payment, Marliza will request a walk-through of the theater to confirm that it is no longer haunted. If the characters destroyed Argus or put him to rest, she delivers the reward as promised. 

If Hakim was not put to rest, the ghost remains in the theater, but does not make himself known during any inspection and is much less disruptive than Argus was. Hakim prefers to make his presence known only in specific circumstances, to play small tricks or provide minor assistance as he sees fit. He remains at the theater unless and until his bones are properly buried. 

If Argus is destroyed or put to rest, Scritches’ spirit is also put to rest.

Aftermath of the Great Arcanium Heist

“Well, I feel a bit terrible, bringing up business in the middle of this lovely celebration,” Marliza Farim said, with an apologetic glance around the common room of the Bookman’s Inn. “But young Ser Korwin assured me that it would, in fact, be the best time for it. “

“Well, he does know us,” Draik chuckled, pouring more of the excellent Kadaran red into the lady’s still more than half-full glass. “And really, the party is winding down at this point. So please, how can we help you?”

“Yes, Korwin mentioned just a little bit about your dilemma, milady,” Vulk said, slipping into the empty chair on the other side of the gorgeous woman. “Before he passed out in the punch bowl. I’d be fascinated to know more…” He offered her a skewer of garlic shrimp from the platter he carried, before setting it on the table. Draik narrowed his eyes at his friend.

The day had been a very long one for most of the Hand of Fortune, who had been put through the wringer during their grueling examinations to attain the rank of Vendari, or Master, in their respective convocations. But for Draik and Vulk, with no such ambitions, the day had been spent in the quiet reading alcoves of the Great Library, perusing volumes on herb lore and Imperial heraldry.

As expected, but hardly assured, Mariala, Devrik, Toran, and Erol had all passed their respective examinations – some with more ease than others. Lord Kavyn himself had sat in on each of the sessions, having personally arranged for them to follow one another sequentially, rather than overlapping. Mariala, at least, had wondered if his intimidating presence had exerted any influence on the outcomes; but if the difficulty of her own examiners, and all the sweat they’d pulled from her, were any indication, probably not.

In the late afternoon, after congratulating each of them, the second most powerful man in the Empire had then accompanied the weary-but-happy new Vendari across the Causeway to the Bookman’s Inn. There they found that Korwin had rented out the entire common room of the up-scale and very popular establishment to host a party for his former teammates. A great crowd of friends and acquaintances, both old and new, cheered them as they entered, Vulk, Draik and Korwin in the vanguard.

The Imperial Myrmytron didn’t linger long, not wanting his presence to stifle the evenings merriment. Before he left, however, he found a private moment with each of the four new-made Vendari to give them two gifts – one from himself and one from the Emperor. The gifts which Lord Kavyn presented were clearly well thought out, and showed a surprising depth of understanding of each recipient’s needs and desires. The Emperor’s gifts, while perhaps not as uniquely chosen, were nonetheless generous – beautiful jorums containing the essence of the new convocation each of the four intended to pursue next, which would increase their chances of success immeasurably.

Once the intimidating Imperial presence had made his goodbyes and slipped into the night, the party had quickly become more animated and boisterous. But as midnight neared, the festivities began to quiet. Many of the guests departed, and the few that remained gathered in small groups, at that mellow stage of inebriation and full stomaches where confidences are shared and deep philosophies expounded.

As the evening wound down, most of the Hand, along with Dr. Ar’Hanol and Captain K’Jurol, found themselves at one table, talking quietly about future plans and possible itineraries. Vulk had just gone in search of more food when Korwin had arrived with a tall, very striking woman at his side.

“This is Madame Marliza Farim,” he’d said, enunciating slowly and clearly. He was obviously much the worse for drink, and his companion seemed cooly amused by him. “Shesh.. she’s… recently come into some money, and a bit of property, but has a dimelma… a dlim… a problem I think you guys could help with… right up your alley, you know? Now where’d Vulk get off to, he should hear this…”

He pulled out a chair for the woman before toddling off to find the cantor. Marliza Farim was a slender, elegant woman of maybe forty years, with piercing blue eyes and, despite her well-concealed embarrassment at Korwin’s introduction, a no-nonsense demeanor. She was dressed a long, flowing dress in deep jewel tones and her silver-blond hair was tied in a tight, elaborate bun.

“I’m happy to hear that our mutual friend was correct, then,“ she went on after Vulk had returned, politely waving away his proffered shrimp skewer. “I’ve heard some of the tales going around in the city, concerning your exploits, and I think you just may be what is needed to solve my dilemma.”

“I take it this dilemma involves this “bit of property” Korwin mentioned?” Mariala asked, sipping at her own glass of wine. She hadn’t drunken nearly as much as most of the others, and though she was bone-weary, it was easier to sit and listen than try to get up and go to the rooms Korwin had arranged for them all.

“Indeed it does,” Marliza nodded, clasping her hands together and tapping her fingers in a rapid staccato rhythm. “The Harlath Theatre is the very heart of the problem facing me. For you see, I wish to reopen it as a working theater, as my grandfather had always wished, but… the place is haunted!”

Several eyebrows went at this, but Devrik motioned for her to carry on, even as he and Mariala exchanged a glance. Marliza sighed and smiled wryly, not missing the by-play.

“I know it sounds rather silly, and I rather thought so myself, at first… but recent events have added to the weight of history, and I’ve become convinced that something terrible lurks within that old building. But perhaps it will make more sense if I give you the background…

“When it was constructed, some three hundred years ago, the Harlath Theater was a landmark on the Island of of Avantir, being the first permanent such structure built outside the City walls and designed specifically to entertain the non-noble people of the working suburbs.

“It was constructed in the suburb of Khuronton, halfway between the City and the University, but anyone who was anyone in the outlying villages of the island (or aspired to be) had attended on the Harlath at least once each season. Many of the merchant class were regulars at Harlath events, there to be “seen” as much as to be entertained. It is one of the enduring legends of the Harlath that an Emperor once attended a performance there… although which Emperor, exactly, is hotly debated. But thereafter it was not unheard of for an occasional member of the City’s nobility to be seen “slumming it” at the old Harlath.

“Working at the Harlath was almost as prestigious as regularly attending its performances, especially for up-and-coming playwrights, who saw the suburban theatre as a stepping-stone to the more prestigious theaters of the City proper. Several of the most celebrated playwrights of the last two centuries got their start writing for the Harlath, in fact.

“Some fifty years ago, with other theaters opening in other suburban areas of the island, the old girl was perhaps past her zenith, but was still considered the grande dame of suburban theaters, and even rivaled some of those in the City itself. Certainly my grandfather never wavered in his attendance… not until disaster struck, at least.

“At the time of the tragedy, the Harlath was maintained by a caretaker named Argus Rapling. They say he originally took the job hoping to use it as a stepping stone, as many others had before him — in his case, to gain a greater creative position within the company. Most of all, Argus wanted to become a playwright.

“As a patron, and one of the many investors in the theater, my grandfather knew the man, if only slightly. Well enough, though to know that before, during, and after his shifts, Argus would spend any time he could find working on a script. It was his hope to present to Zamarin Imgarhol, the theatre’s director, and thereby be elevated to the writer’s room. But apparently Zamarin didn’t take the man, or his aspirations, seriously. She brushed off Argus when he approached her about his script, more than once as my grandfather himself saw on at least two occasions. This increasingly frustrated Argus, but the man remained persistent.

“When he finally managed to badger Zamarin into reading his magnum opus, however, she was so annoyed by the caretaker’s relentless pestering that she did little more than skim it in the most cursory fashion, according to her assistant. Unimpressed by what little she saw, she openly laughed at and ridiculed Argus, saying his work was shoddy and a waste not only of her time, but his own.

“It’s said Argus returned to his office that day humiliated and angry, and there he festered and ruminated for a night and another day, until he could contain himself no longer. Red with fury and overcome by shame, Argus murdered Zamarin in broad daylight, on the main stage, during an open dress rehearsal. As the rest of the theatre staff and the small audience fled in horror, he then took his own life.

“When the authorities arrived to remove the bodies, however, they found only Zamarin’s corpse. A search of the building never turned up Argus’ body, and it was eventually decided that some friend or relative had removed it, to avoid further public scandal for his family. My grandfather always snorted at this, as the theory blithely skipped over the fact that the man had few friends and no family in the city.

“After a hiatus of several tendays, efforts to reopen the theater proved… difficult. They were hampered by reports of strange occurrences and a lack of staff willing to return. The size of the staff continued to diminish as more and more people became convinced that the building was now haunted. With other suburban theaters already flourishing, the Harlath was soon deemed to be more trouble than it was worth by most of its frustrated owners, who decided to cut their losses.

“Except for my grandfather. For over a decade, the building remained abandoned, and he eventually managed to buy out the last of his co-investors, gaining sole ownership of the property for a relative pittance. He had enjoyed the theatre since his youth… he confided in me in his latter years that he even wanted to tread the boards himself, before family pressure convinced him his dreams were otherwise.

“Old Jokul never attempted to reopen the theatre, however, nor did my father – he never shared Grandfather’s fascination with the stage. But I did, and with my own father’s passing last year I now possess the means to realize my grandfather’s dream. I plan to oversee a renaissance in suburban theatre, and intend to do so from the grand old Harlath Theater. I’m the only surviving child of my rather wealthy merchant family, but the sum I will have to spend to return the old girl to full operation is not insubstantial. I dare not risk any more money in the matter until any ghosts or other such… supernatural impediments… have been dealt with.

“Last month I hired a young group of self-proclaimed adventurers to enter the old building and resolve the issue. Their leader, a young man named Hakim Althar was a confident and competent-seeming fellow, despite his age. I had high hopes. But only three of the five who went in emerged alive, babbling hysterically about flying objects, whispering voices, murderous, ax-wielding ghosts and demonic, skeletal animals.

“I think my mistake was hiring inexperienced people for such an obviously dangerous job. But with your reputation… well, if you are willing to explore the theater thoroughly and confront — and most importantly put to rest — whatever may lurk within it… well, I’m prepared to offer you a 10% share in the company once I have it up and running again.

The Harlath was once a shining beacon of entertainment and erudition to the people, those not born to power and privilege, and I believe it can be again, with your help… and my money. What say you?”