Yeah, let's run towards the menacing scarecrow house. (Sirenswail 8-9)
Location: Sirenswail, Irish countryside, County Kerry, Ireland
Main Cast: Shio the Acid-Burnout Alice, Gund the Amoral Magic-User, Salith the Cannibal Elf, Reynault the Fighter
Supporting Cast: Helga of the Ulvenbrigaad, Harold the Mule
Previously: Our heroes destroyed the foundation of the Tower of London and fled the London guard in the style of Ye Faste & Furiousse by Thames gondola, returning to the safety of Sirenswail where they rested and spent a Haven turn. They set out in search of a mysteriously appearing statue in a cave in Ireland.
Presently: Traveling across the Irish countryside of County Kerry, the party traveled mostly without incident aside from the appearance of a red fox, which they attempted to follow but lost in the forest. This troubled them, seeming an ill omen of some sort to their minds. Gund was particularly bothered. Helga was like "whatever I'll kill it with my axe if it's a problem" and Harold was all like "yeah whatever let's just keep moving and maybe not slaughter any more children if possible?"
As the party exited the forest, they found the weather had shifted to a heavy, wet fog. In the distance, a farmhouse surrounded by a field of wheat; otherwise visibility was low and it was growing cold. While on the roadside contemplating their next course of action, a crazed fellow burst from the trees, running in the direction of the party and the field.
Quickly closing the distance, he shouted to them that they'd best follow him, as there was a swarm of winged flesh-craving creatures on his tail. The party joined him and legged it at top speed to the house, the fog closing in around them. Upon entering the field, the winged terrors abated, and they arrived at the house without much issue.
The house was dilapidated but secure, and would give good shelter from the coming rain. It appeared to have been visited recently, with recent tracks visible in the mud. The players hitched their new redshirt mule up by a water pump, noted the presence of an oddly disturbing scarecrow in the field, and went inside (with Harold, of course, being a full member of the party).
The smell of filth and death permeated the rooms of the small farmhouse. Each room held a body either dead or dying. One covered in vomit and shit, poisoned by the well. One dead of piercing wounds that had bled out. In the main room, lying starving and wounded against the wall, beseeching the party for help was Richard Fox, an adventurer and trader of rare goods, and recounted the series of events that had brought them to this point. Importantly, he told the party that they would not be able to leave easily, but he would reward them richly if they were able to help him out.
Investigation of the farmhouse revealed an occult tome, a sword of strange magical nature, and the jewelry of one of the corpses, all of which were hastily gathered. Additionally, an incongruously stately harpsichord stood in the main room, though it seemed impractically large to remove as loot. A sociopathic conversation about whether to rescue Fox for his reward or to kill him and leave him to rot was had.
Gund used his Lore skill to investigate the harpsichord, finding it wasn't magic. Playing a few notes on it, the party felt the ground rumble ominously. Shio, having serendipitously studied the harpsichord in her childhood, gave it a go and found that it calmed the shaking. The gang decided that it was time to make an attempt to Get Ye Fuck Out with the goods. Checking around the outside of the farmhouse, they found a dead horse, perforated by numerous holes and drained of its sanguinity. Nothing to see here, so off into the field Reynault went.
The rumbling began again, and Reynault got mobbed by a bunch of tentacles from below. Mystery solved. High-tailing it back to the farmhouse, Reynault evaded the tentacles and the house itself and a small area around it seemed to be a safe zone. The gang hunkered down for the night, the combination of murky Irish rain clouds, strange flying murder-creatures and these motherfucking tentacles just being a bit much to deal with at the present moment.
Their dreams were not great. The creepy-ass scarecrow in the field figured into each of their nightmares, and upon waking they knew that these experiences would stick with them. Once again, they resolved to Get Ye Fuck Out. They decided Reynault would do his best to plot a safe course, tying a rope around him just in case it didn't work out. It didn't, and they pulled Reynault back at the brink of death after he was quickly beset by tentacles once again. Another tack would need to be taken.
The harpsichord would be their savior, they decided. However, they had not a clue how to move it with them, and not much enthusiasm for leaving someone behind to play and die. Murderhobos they may be, but disloyal ones they are not. The plan was crafted: the harpsichord was hoisted to the roof, and Salith crafted a magical verse that would enable her to play it from afar, although it was going to be tough and risky. The wagon was loaded, and the party made preparation to burn wagon wheel as soon as Salith could start her spell. Everything was set in motion, and Salith's magic worked more or less as planned, except that it couldn't be sustained as long as they needed, making the last third of the journey a series of close calls with spiky grabber tentacles. Ultimately, they prevailed.
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