In the still dark of a rainy night, a light is kindled in the Healer's Den. It dims and brightens regularly for a few moments as if someone were carrying a candle back and forth between the empty beds, then it is suddenly extinguished and a piercing wail of grief and pain echoes into the darkness.
Following the man into the Healer's Den, Cail also lights an aquired candle. It's dim light shining off of the remnants of rain on his cloak cast tiny glimmers of light around him. Following Blisdon's lead Cail mumbled to himself and let energy flow through him *Inspect Magic*.
Blisdon, Cail and anyone else who enters the room catch the high astringent scent of the poultices and herbs used in healing, although the Den itself is cold and vacant.
With his Spirit Sense, Blisdon hears the lingering echo of the scream and just spots a pale figure passing through the back wall of the building.
With a determined snort, blisdon follows the pale figure with his own dark and predatorial gaze. "Yer' not getting away from me so easily..." grumbled the shaman under his breath, echoes of his dwarven heritage escaping his lips in his riled and excited state.
With a quick turn of his body he began to exit the deserted den "The blasted thing went outsite behind the healers den." Said blisdon to the empyrean behind him as he continued to stride around the corner of the healers den walking behind it to where the pale shape would have exited the building. Blisdon allowed himself a few deep, soothing lungfuls of air before working up the focus to see back into the spiritual realm for any sort of clues as to where the apparition might have fled to. [Inspect Spirit]
Solas wanders up out of the rainstorm. His blindfolded face is expressionless as he moves toward the Warlock. "It's raining out." He says, his hands pulling his coat together to shield himself from the droplets. "I know the weather is great for brooding and all," The empyrean says, his lips begining to curl upward in a sarcastic smirk, "You'll catch a draft, Akon."
Akon's eyes then open, watching the rain fall from the tower. She smirks slightly, perhaps a touch of amusement apparent on her lips. She then walks into the tower, looking around with in it, to see if anything was out of place, looking on in the candle light that Cail's candle offered. "Evening." She said to him as she walked about the den.
Cail nodded his head to Blisdon as he finished speaking. Following Blisdon outside again, Cail felt the small drops of rain on his shoulders and head again and noticed both Akon and Solas waiting.
"Dreary night for spirit seeking, no," he said to the both of them. "Blisdon has felt a presence which he says has exited the building. I'll be following him, seeing as I cannot resist a mystery."
Cail then commences his pursuit of the shaman feeling the already uncomfortable feeling of soggy socks in his rainsoaked shoes.
Blisdon slowly turned his head back to the small group behind him as heavy raindrops pounded on his brown hood.
"I'd bet any of you here an armful of silver nuggets that The lights, screams and stones that we've witnessed are merely the pranks of a cruel boggart guest that's found it's way into the town."
Blisdon closed his dark, uordeq eyes and rubbed his temples a moment before letting out a disappointed sigh "Well, I guess that concludes things. Whatever spirit that lingered in the Healers Den is gone now, or at least beyond the reach of my senses."
As blisdon lifted his head away from his hands and began to turn his attention back to the group, he caught sight of the Warlock standing across from him. "Oh, Well, Hello there Akon." muttered the shaman as he thoughtfully, Perhaps even the slightest bit bashfully stroked his beardless chin in the same manner he used to play with his now long-gone beard.
Blisdon Didn't hesitate for long before conjuring up some of his terrible attempts at a joke to break the tension."It seems Jastrey in the springtime is quite the spectacle to behold, Even the rocks appear to be raining down on people. I shudder to think of what the flowers must feel."
Akon's dark eyes look stoicly at the once dwarven Uordeq, noting his appearance and mannerisms, and feeling the slighty bashful tone of his voice. She looks dead at him for a moment, red eyes in observance and thought before they flicker to the distance, narrowing at the strange figures. Her voice is bland, as it has been since she arrived at the scene, unchanging as her emotionless visage. "Seems our town has had it's rest." She watched the figures moving silently. "If it has gone, then we need not linger." She said, hand reaching naturally to her hilt, casually walking in stride towards the figures in the distance.
Cail shrugs as the search comes to an end. Noticing the shifting figures in the distance as well, he dismisses them and says out loud to himself, "Im to tired to be chasing ghosts and spirits this evening knowing that I'll still end up with nothing."
Cail gathers his soggy cloak around him and sets off back towards the Tavern hoping for some peace, a good fire, and no more interrupting spectres.
Chataya, who had initally been attracted to the Den due to the screaming, hung back when she saw other townsfolk investigating. As they walked or turned away, she entered the building. Lighting one of the candles she always carries with her, she set about inspecting the place, chastising herself for not coming back sooner and cleaning the place up. Despite the late hour and the rain, she starts to do just that, sweeping all debris into a corner, and opening the windows. She paid particular attention to one of the beds in a corner, preparing it for herself by covering the mattress with her cloak, and placing her weapons at the head of the bed. By candlelight, she took stock of her surroundings, and sat down on her new-claimed bed, rummaging through her pouch.
As Chataya sits comfortably on the cot by the light of the candle, a gangrenous smell floats into the healer's den.
The candles that were the only light in the storm are suddenly blown out by a cold breeze.
A dark figure, darker than the dark appears for a moment before you. The smell of old bandages permiate the room.
And then it is gone...
In the flash of the lightning outside, you can see something cut into the dirt floor at your feet.
Words... carved into the moist dirt.
The words read:
"The way..... it is blocked..."
And the smells seem to disappear as fast as they came.
Chataya jumps up from the cot and bolts for the door. Prefering to be in a group with others, she doesn't often like to be alone, especially when it is obvious there is something at work that she cannot understand. As she runs out of the door she calls out for help from the people who recently left the cabin, or anyone who may be out in the rain on a dark night. She starts walking in the direction she saw the others going and offers a silent prayer up to Istencia.
"And if your battles are just-
And bleeding is a must
Then there's only one true healer to trust!
And thats Blis-"
Blisdon's voice trailed off into silence as he rounded the corner to the entrance of the healers den. Carefully eyeing his surroundings before craning his neck upwards and taking note of the brewing storm overhead.
"By the four.." he mumbled to himself as he tried his best to softly pull the creaky door open to allow him access into the den, entirely unsure of what he might discover when he entered.
With one eye squinted and the other one cocked at an unnatural angel Blisdon scowls at the seemingly empty surroundings, finding a candle from somewhere inside and setting it alight to help aid him in his search for the source of the anguished cry.
"Reveal yourself spirits and entities of the other world. Show yourself to me, Blisdon of the Wild Hunt!" [ INSPECT SPIRIT] growled out the shaman in a commanding tone as he extended his voice into far wider reaching places than merely just the physical plane.