After 20 to 30 minutes of walking, Wescoat Manor's silhouette could be seen dimly in the fog, its gabled roof rose above the treeline. From a distance, it seemed more a derelict than an inhabited manor. As the group drew closer, a low stone wall seemed to hold back the bog, though in places the wall had crumbled under the steady onslaught of the marshy ground.
The manor's windows appeared to be boarded up, the door thick and stout. The building was in bad need of paint, a strange contrast to the well-kept grounds. Baru asked why the manor seemed so downtrodden, and why the windows were boarded up. Douglas replied, " Ach, it's because o' them hounds, and their leader, the great Moor Hound. They've thrown themselves at the windows and forced their way through the doors more than once. 'Bout 40 years ago, after I'd been here a while, Master Wescoat simply decided not t' go t' the trouble of replacin' the windows. Every other night those dogs came at us and ruin whatever work I'd done durin' the day. We got tired of puttin' the stuff back together. I hope ye'll fergive the mess."
Michaels led the group through the gate of the stone wall, not in good condition, right to the sturdy double front doors. After scrapping his shoes on the boot scrapper he led the group into a graciously appointed foyer. The furniture looked like it had been there for decades, more than slightly in need of upgrades. A wide stairway led to the second floor where a balcony overlooked the foyer.
"Darrell, we have guests," called out Michaels, and presently a 60ish, dark suited man came from a side hallway. "Guests, just what we don't need," he haughtily stated, "I suppose you invited them for dinner?"
"Oh, yes" replied Douglas, "They saved my life in the bogs, have you seen the fog? Much thicker than usual today." With an arrogant glance at the party, Darrell left into another hallway to fetch the master. Varrid complimented Michaels on the excellent condition of the grounds. "Is there a garden too?" she asked. "'Round back I have an lush plot of vegetables, Martine makes food use of them." said Douglas. Darrell returned with a bespectacled man of medium height and slender frame. He had tan skin, brown hair and blue eyes. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to Wescoat Manor, I am Burton Wescoat, we receive so few guests these days." he said as he looked over the unusual crew. Douglas immediately began to relate the heroics of the group in saving him from the hounds. Wescoat nodded sympathetically at all the appropriate places. "Won't you stay for dinner" injects Burton, "But first let us clean and bandage your wounds." He sent Darrell to find Gabrielle, the maid, "take them to a guest room upstairs and bind them up."
Darrell and a young female entered the foyer and took the wounded party members up to a guest bedroom where she expertly washed and bound their wounds providing some relief to the hound inflicted pain. Ralom, casting around for magic did not find anything useful but spent some of his last spells on healing. Drovic used a scroll or two to assist the party in recovery.
When everyone reconvened in the foyer, Wescoat suggested a tour of the manor before dinner. The party agreed and followed him into the western hallway. Several doors stood shut on each side of the hall, "These are the servants quarters," Wescoat stated. At the end of the hall stood a doorway sealed with crisscrossed boards nailed over the entrance. "This was the ballroom," said Wescoat, "It has been sealed up ever since the dogs broke the tall elegant stained-glass windows. No sense in trying to keep it open with the continual attacks." Leading the group back to the east, Burton entered a door that led to a living room. Broken glass littered the floor, mud and straw was strewn across the floor. Several books had been torn from the shelves, their chewed pages scattered about the room. The remains of elegant furniture was ripped open, torn apart and in general disarray. A door from the living room led to the drawing room in which tables and the floor were covered with wrapped packages. "These are the wedding gifts for my ancestor," uttered Wescoat. The room also contained paintings, statuary and a violin. There were weapons, and ammunition, and a full suit of plate mail. Ralom's magic detector found some success in this room as a Great-sword and a quiver of arrows glowed before his eyes. Next Burton led them to the dining room, a well appointed room in good repair. The mahogany furniture was polished to shine with a mellow glow, and the place settings were sparkling clean. One thing seemed odd though, a darker, bare spot on the wall where something obviously used to hang. Burton pointed out the doorway to the kitchen where he indicated Martine was preparing the meal.
Onward to the second floor the group passed by the several sparsely furnished guest rooms, to a door at the end of the hall. Here was the music gallery overlooking the Ballroom. Dust of many years covered the area. Down in the Ballroom the floor was littered with straw and mud, all of the tall elegant windows shattered, glass shards laying everywhere. Wescoat says they have abandoned the room since the hounds keep breaking in. They are not even boarding the windows any longer. Leaving the west wing for the east, Wescoat leads to a linen closet, a family bedroom and a study, the door to which he unlocks with a key. The study is comfortably appointed, with stuffed leather chairs, a large oak desk, and a huge fireplace. Facing the fireplace was a couch with a rumpled blanket lying across it. The walls are lined with bookshelves and paintings, apparently of lords of Wescoat Manor. Interestingly there are windows in the study, covered with shutters. There are papers scattered across the desk. Not long after entering the study, Darrell brings word of dinner being served and everyone heads to the Dining Room.
Martine the cook and Gabrielle serve a sumptuous dinner of rack of lamb with mint sauce and veggies., Arvien has thirds. During the meal Wescoat relates the tale of his grandfather, also Burton Wescoat and Ann Campbell. "She was a black-hearted shrew, who on the eve of the wedding killed Michael Wescoat and fled into the night. My ancestor set the dogs after her and ran after them himself. When the old Sir Burton reached the bog clearing Ann was already chest deep in the quicksand, casting about for a branch or vine he was too late to save her from the quicksand, she cursed him and his family, and sank to her death. "Sir Burton staggered home across the moor ignoring the cuts the thorns and jagged rocks inflicted on him. He little realized that his bad fortune was just beginning.
"Year by year the bogs moved closer to Wescoat Manor, the "bog hounds" started their bi nightly attacks, and members of the Wescoat family died in the moors or moved away from Mordent to try a new life elsewhere."
After relating the story Wescoat insisted that everyone come up to the study, he was eager to show them a sight. "However," he warns, "you had best be prepared to stay up late. What I wish to show you takes place in the early hours of the morning, so you might want to have some sleep beforehand." Ralom asked about he blank spot on the wall to which Wescoat responded that it was a portrait of his grandfather that was damaged, so it was taken down.
After taking a nap the party joined Wescoat in the study at half past two. Time passed slowly till at last the clock struck three. Wescoat strode over to the windows and opened the shutters. "Ah, it begins again," he murmured. "Every night at three, her apparition forms and shed takes her pack of hounds out to hunt the moors. Watch!"
He gazed out on the expanse of land at the back of the house as a ghostly shimmer rises from the land. From the heroes vantage point, the glow shaped itself into the form of a young woman, but her face could not be made out at this is distance. She gazed at the house for a moment, and then whirled and raced off toward the waiting moor. Soon thereafter, a pack of ravenous hounds races after her.
"There she goes with her dogs," Wescoat murmured, "off to hunt the innocents who wander abroad." He closed the shutters just as the heroes glimpsed another figure who raced after the pack.
"Who was that figure," queried Drovic. "I have never been able to discern the identity of the figure, it has only recently joined the hunt," answered Wescoat.
"That's my curse. Can you help me? Will you seek out the vengeful spirit of Ann Campbell and lay her to rest, to bring me peace? I can outfit and feed you, and give you rough directions to where Ann died. Baru answers in the affirmative, wondering how to determine the truth of this situation. "Excellent! You can start in the morning.
All leave the study and Wescoat leaves them at the foyer balcony to go to his room? Arvien sidles up to Varrid and whispers "Let us go check out the study now that it is empty, can you pick the lock?" Varrid agrees as Seglun hangs back to join them. Ralom follows a distance behind and stays in the hallway to lookout for Wescoat or the servants returning.
Picking the lock was easy and the three women entered the study once again. Seglun was examining the painting while Arvien studied the books. Varrid started to go through the papers on the desk. The books consisted of various histories, art folios and fiction. There was a large section of the occult, specifically concentrating on case studies of ghosts and curses. There were also several tomes authored by Dr. Van Richten. The papers on the desk were devoted to considering ways to break the curse Wescoat lies under. Others had statements "I should have killed her when I had the chance!" On the mantelpiece, next to a picture of a beautiful young lady, with auburn tresses, a full figure, and hawk-like nose and piercing green eyes, was and engraving:
"Bog take your bones
and keep them, Burton Wescoat!
The hounds are forever yours,
but now they lie beneath my hand!
Live long and suffer, you selfish---"
A dagger sticks in the wall nearby, as if someone had hurled it in a fit of anger.
Seglun piped up, "This painting dated 100 years ago surely look like the present lord." Arvien and Varrid agree and then notice that the painting moves. Behind it was locked safe, which Varrid again opened rather easily. Inside were a few papers, some gold pieces and two leather pouches. Carefully removing the pouches one at a time Varrid peered inside, one held a dozen or so gems, the other several platinum pieces. She carefully replaced them.
At that moment they heard Ralom call out to Lord Wescoat who Ralom saw enter the hall through a secret door and move toward the study. Ralom asked the Lord about the layout of the estate and said he was having trouble sleeping. Wescoat escorted Ralom back to the guest quarters as the three women sneaked out of the study to the "family bedroom" and waited for Wescoat's return. After some time they retired to the guest quarters themselves.
At breakfast Wescoat was nowhere to be found, Gabrielle said he was often missing in the mornings. She related her history, an orphan who came to the estate around 15 years ago from Mordentshire. She rarely if ever goes to town now and there are few is any visitors. She is certainly happy to have someone new to talk to. Douglas is called to show the group around the manor grounds. He is very proud of the grounds and garden but the heroes are more interested in the small building at the rear of the estate and the grounds outside the study windows. The small building appears to be a deserted kennel. A through search reveals no secret doors in the manor house or kennel. The ground is not unusual and Ralom finds no magic anywhere. Grunyar is studying the kennel and house for night watch perch. The roof above the Ballroom gallery seems to be the best possible place to watch the apparition from outside.
DM's Notes: The group earned 200 XP for the night's adventures and now have 6200 XP requiring 1300 additional XP to reach 3rd level.
A running description of our Sunday Night D&D sessions.
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