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Jan 2, 1885

I slept in later than usual after all the excitement yesterday. My head was still throbbing a bit from the crash, despite Virgil’s ministrations. But I felt better after a proper breakfast at the town tavern.

Our first order of business was to finish interviewing the Constable. It seemed he was even more useless than my first impression! Apparently the main bridge out of town had been claimed by bandits demanding a toll from any who crossed. And rather than confronting them or risking any sort of conflict… he was actually building a second bridge further south!! I agreed to look into the matter – as I needed the funds and the ability to leave town. Although he could provide very little useful intelligence about the bandits.

He *was* able to give us a lead on the signet ring, saying a man named Ristezze ran an import and jewelery store in town, and might be able to tell us more about its design and origin.

Ristezze immediately declared that the ring was authentic silver, well made, and certainly not local. There was an inscription inside the band reading “P. Schuyler and Sons“, but when I asked him about it he grew cagey. He said he would only tell me more if I first did a favour for him. Of course.

It seemed that the town had once been been home to a thriving mine owned by a woman named Bessie Toone. She had died some time ago, but Ristezze said there was a large demand from collectors for authentic “Bessie Toone” memorabilia. Most of her things had long since been picked over or sold off by her son, Percival. But if I could acquire another he would tell me more about the ring. I sighed and asked if he had any leads, and he said we should check the old mine. Her son lived nearby, and could tell us more.

It did not seem prudent to continue poking around with nothing but a pocket knife for defence. I did not have a lot of funds on hand, but pawning a few odds and ends from the crash site provided enough to at least arm myself at the local smithy.

Further questioning of townsfolk told us that Old Bessie had fired all the workers one day, wandered into the mine herself, and never come back out. The mine was now considered “soured”, as only poor quality ore remained.

He told us he had learned that a local gang was planning to rob the town bank! They were a rather impulsive, shoot-first set of brothers, and he doubted they had a plan beyond charging in guns-blazing. If we would assist in preventing the robbery he was offering a tidy sum. Apparently he was a crack shot himself, and just wanted backup. I began to suspect that – despite the titles – Doc Roberts was the true keeper of the peace in Shrouded Hills.

Virgil and I went over to surveil the bank, and Doc Roberts joined us soon after. We chose appropriate ambush positions, and waited. As expected, the robbers charged in in broad daylight that afternoon. They were armed with old revolvers, but there were not many, and they were not expecting serious resistance.

The monetary reward was enough to invest in a sturdy leather vest. Not the most comfortable of attire, but it could help with the plethora of knives which seemed to be directed towards me recently.

Percival Toone turned out to be a nervous old man who lived on the outskirts of town, near the old mine. He said that his mother’s ghost haunted the mine, and that had prevented him from selling or re-opening it. He claimed that he would pay well if I could put her spirit to rest. I tried to get him to talk about what she might be upset about, but he claimed to have no idea. I also took note that he kept a half-ogre bodyguard on retainer nearby. I wondered why the out-of-business owner of a mine nobody wanted needed a bodyguard…

The mine was indeed in dilapidated shape. Fortunately I found enough parts in the debris to cobble together a functional electric lamp, and we headed inside.

We found far more than abandoned carts and bad ore in the mines. The spiders inside grew to a truly disturbing size, and were far more aggressive than any species I had previously encountered.

There was also a pack of rabid wolves which had taken residence. I was glad for Virgil’s assistance dispatching them.

She was wailing about someone named Sarah. I wished that I had had the opportunity back home to study basic Necromancy. A “speak with dead” ritual could perhaps have cleared things up sooner. But I had never had a magick tutor, and Virgil wanted nothing to do with such “black arts”. I asked him what was so “black” about asking a suffering spirit why it couldn’t rest. But as seemed to be common with Virgil, he didn’t have a good answer when challenged.

We found a locked and trapped chest nearby, but both the lock and the trap were relatively simple to bypass. Inside we found an old woman’s boot… with the initials B.T. inside. Not exactly the most glorious of treasures, but we hoped it would satisfy Ristezze.

Ristezze was indeed pleased with the boot, and in return gave me an address in Tarant. “P. Schuyler and Sons” was apparently an off-the-books jeweler known for custom orders.

We returned to Percival to ask him about “Sarah”, and his demeanor immediately changed. He became increasingly nervous, stuttered, and tripped over his own stories. He claimed she was his sister who had broken his Mother’s heart by leaving. He didn’t have an answer for why he hadn’t seen fit to mention her before. He also gave conflicting stories as to her whereabouts. First he claimed she had moved to the city of Dernholm, then when I suggested I travel there and speak to her he suddenly “remembered” that she had died a few years ago… Now I *definitely* planned to make a side-trip. But first, we would have to deal with the Constable’s bandits.

The bandits turned out to be a shifty looking ruffian named Lukan and a pair of half-ogre thugs. Lukan did not seem particularly bright, and his thugs even less so, but I did not like the odds of Virgil and I attempting to fight them directly. Lukan thought I “looked like someone who could relate”, and offered that if I destroyed the alternate bridge that was being built to the south he would let me cross without paying a toll. A 1,000 pound toll!

“Someone who could relate”. I knew exactly what *that* meant. Now I *really* wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

We headed back into town, back to the small tavern where we had eaten breakfast I had noticed a very large half-ogre drinking by himself there earlier.

I convinced him to help us with the bandits.

When we returned, I waved to Lukan as though bringing good news… and then threw a lit stick of dynamite from the Toone Mine at him. He and his goons dove out of the way, but not without being knocked about. And one of the thugs took a solid blast.

I crossed swords with Lukan myself. I wanted to make *sure* to pay him back for his earlier remarks. As expected, he had no formal training in sword-fighting. Whereas I had practiced fencing quite a bit back home.

Virgil finished off the half-ogre who had taken the brunt of the dynamite.

And Sogg proved my read on him had been quite correct, as he easily beat down the other thug.

The Constable was overjoyed at our news, and happily paid the agreed fee. Sogg decided to stick with us for a while, as we were apparently “more fun” than hanging around the bar.

I wanted to make a quick detour to Dernholm before heading to Tarant, but we had one more obstacle in our path. As we crossed the newly cleared bridge, the gnome who had earlier introduced himself as “William Radcliffe” stood waiting for us. With a gun in hand. He said simply, “Give it to me. Now.” I pretended to have no idea what he was talking about, but he was not deterred. “The ring. NOW“. I was no fool. I knew quite well that he would kill us the moment he had it. So I reached down as if to withdraw it from a belt pouch, fumbled a bit as if searching for it nervously – and then drew my rapier and thrust it through his chest! As I had hoped, age had slowed his reflexes. He never got a chance to pull his trigger.

And when we searched him we found another of those damnable amulets. I *really* needed to find a good library and determine what that symbol *meant*.

After all that excitement we decided to spend one more night in Shrouded Hills, and then set out for Dernholm in the morning. I was dying for a decent tea and some quiet time to myself to think things over.

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Author’s Notes:

I’m continuing with my plan of ‘just let things happen’ rather than having any idea in advance where Cass is going to take things. I hadn’t really planned on recruiting Sogg – and “probably” won’t keep him for that long. He’s not much of a conversationalist. But it made sense to Cass. Also Arcanum generally limits your party size based on charisma/persuasion – and Cass is spread a little thin on skills at the moment. But we shall see what we shall see..

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