This is the journal of Grimoire, based on what Grimoire have seen or heard, including his thoughts on the matters at hand and the state of the world around him.
With Jess, Ignis, and Riniya all heading for the burning stable, upon hearing the sounds of distressed whinnying, the manor, engulfed in flames, were left to Melvin, Dande, and myself. Dande looked the body over; it was not the flames that had ended his life, but rather an elongated blade of some sorts. Clearing the body, Dande grapped into his jacket pocket for something, and headed towards the stable as well, I could not see the item from my point of view, but I’d suspect it to be an item that could mitigate the fire in some capacity. As such, if there was anything to be gleamed from the remains of the manor, it was up to me and Melvin. Now I knew that Melvin was just as, if not even more, proficient in opening closed doors, but it seemed fairly certain that the manor was lost, with all windows already burst from the heat, fire licking black, sodden tongues up the outer walls, the interior would be utterly destroyed. Books and furniture would have burnt, and with the heat being as intense as it was, I doubt many metallic containers would be much more than mostly melted remains. Heading in to search for survivors would be equal to suicide, unless the manor had a reinforced basement, the flames at this stage would have consumed almost everything.
Still though, in part because a locked door will always peak my curiosity, and in part because, there was a feint chance that someone might have made it to the front doors. If they could be saved and brought back to reason, they could very likely part with some important information. Things that might not be of great use here and now, but if I’ve learned anything over the past ten-fifteen years of solving cases in Onadbyr, then it’s that no piece of information should be discarded on the spot. And while I might not know, at the time of putting these words to journal, of to whom this information may be important, I feel I might know someone who could tell me more.
The brass door handle was sizzling and smoking, even from a distance, it was quite possibly scalding. Using a simple evocation, I covered the handles in a thin layer of ice crystals, this would temporarily cool the handle to avoid damaging my hands. Admitted, my heritage as a Teifling does give me an edge over most other creatures, but even we of so-called “devil’s blood” can acquire burn-wounds. Thankfully, though heavy, the door was not locked, and it opened easily, only to face a wall of writhing, red-hot flames, which then from the extra air now circulating, did bust out a heatwave into my face. Unpleasant for sure, but nothing a soothing bath later won’t fix.
Instead me and Melvin went around the manor, if there was any signs of a break in, or if the fire had started out here, we were most likely the best suited for such an investigation. I informed Melvin that with how the flames looked, combined with the non-burned corpse, that my suspicion pointed towards arson. Especially as every other building belonging to the estate, was in a similar state of burning to the ground. One building can be lost due to an accidental fire, sure, but multiple barns, stables, the staff house AND the manor all at once? No, there was nothing coincidental about this fire. An idea that was reinforced as we got around the manor; the backdoor that would open up out to the main garden, was blocked from access by a number of barrels. Judging by their size, food storage barrels, wine barrels usually have a different size and form. The fact that none of the barrels had spigots only strengthened this view. Clearly, the barrels had been put into place to block an exit route out of the manor.
I was about to head towards one of the other buildings, as we heard a feint knocking come from the barrels. Checking one of them revealed it to contain fish, salted for preservation, much to Melvin’s obvious delight. I had to remind him that we were looking for clues, I’ll need to teach him prober work ethics, if he is truly to escape the crimes of his past. We found the barrel that the knocks came from, and candidly I asked the barrel if “Everything was alright?”. Naturally, being in a barrel that’s made out of wood, next to manor that’s engulfed in flames, would not sit high on my personal list of “Things that are alright”, but this was the first line of words that sprung into my mind. The barrel in question was laying sideways, and wedged in between two standing barrels, we would not be able to pull the lid off of either end, until we’d moved the other barrels first. Thankfully it did seem like the fire wasn’t breaking through this side, so we would have some time to handle this. Melvin suggested we could just roll it out, but that would have sent it down a set of stone stairs into the garden, and I doubt whoever was inside would enjoy that experience. Unfortunately, the standing barrels proved much too heavy for Melvin or myself to move, I’ll admit, a burst of strength is not where I field my prowess. Instead we took out a crowbar each, and started prying the boards of the barrel apart.
An elderly lady, from her clothing, I’d say she was part of the kitchen staff at the manor, she had hidden herself in one of the barrels, as the Lord Romlyn and family had been assaulted and kidnapped. Clearly distraught, she mentioned a Lady Merrytail had been amongst the kidnappers, who had all adorned black robes with hoods. It seems our dear Lord Monder was correct in the rumours he had heard, as the old lady had heard them talk about a sacrifice at the Old Grinder, an old and abandoned mill about a mile away from the manor. The others had managed to rescue and secure Miss Ivory, so at least not all is lost. Melvin and I updated the others about our find, and with the chance that Lord Romlyn was still alive, we made a dash towards the mill.
When we arrived, we checked to see if there should be alternate routes inside (or out, for that matter), but only one way in was found. We had little time to plan anything, as this was a matter of life and death. My normal cases work more on an “after the crime” basis, rather than preventing crime, but that’s not to say that my cases haven’t sometimes turned into a stand-off with the suspect. Jess and Melvin tried to device a plan to throw Melvin up to a window, as a way to spot the inside out, but it would involve too much risk to Melvin given the height. Instead Jess broke the old, worn door down, rushing inside. We were all about to follow when the entrance was blocked by a large stone, that was rolled in front of the doorway, trapping us out here, and more importantly, Jess in there alone. Although Jess isn’t a frail character, being a Minotaur and all, even the most capable mage or warrior can’t deal with being outnumbered for too long. We had to get the stone out of the way, or at the very least, move it enough that we could enter to help Jess out.
While I wedged a crowbar in, Dande pushed the millstone just enough aside, that the others could either shoot through, or move through. We could hear sounds of combat coming from the inside, seems Jess was giving the opposition a fight for their life. Heard spells cast to the right of me, Dande had conjured something up inside, I was struggling to hold the stone in place as he cast his spell, but I managed to wedge my crowbar in, which seemed to do the trick. Finally getting inside, one cultist had already fallen, two more were still fighting, but Jess was looking pretty rough, despite her size and armour. As the two cultists saw they were outnumbered, they surrendered, only for Jess to knock them out. Dande and I headed up a ladder, while the others headed down. Two more were upstairs, one capable of simple spells, but working in unison, we quickly took them down, looking to join the others in the basement. We’ve heard Jess trying to persuade them into surrendering, and then something that sounded as an explosion.
Getting downstairs, a horrific sight met me; two noblemen had already been killed, their bodies laying in pools of their blood in a glowing magic circle, and a hooded figure was trying her best to avoid daggers and blows. A young boy was flung to the side, a grievous stab wound in the back of his head, informed me that he was in bad need of help. One of my potions would have to suffice, seeing as we had not hired a priest or a cleric to venture with us. I just hope that I’m not too late.
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