Sugar Plum Yuletide (A Very Sick Man)
Note: This adventure is based on the "Banquet of Death" module for 5e. It has been adapted for edition and level.
"Very well," Harrick says. "I shall remain here to keep an eye on Jacksal should has assailant return to make another attempt and to keep him from doing anything stupid. Good luck to you both." The Lord of Ironford salutes Grotto and Raven as the pair head off along the road to the old, abandoned windmill.
The windmill is only a half-mile or so out of town so within a matter of minutes, the end of the uppermost sail comes into view. Raven turns to Grotto. "I am going to slip into the woods and make my way around to the far side of the windmill. Give me until a count of about 200 to get into position. Then come up the path. If there is anyone hiding up there, they may make a break for it and I'll be there to either cut them off or herd them back towards you."
The ranger slips into the tree line and vanishes.
Grotto leaves the path and gives prayers and thanks to Hanseath for a few minutes time while Raven gets into place. He feels resolve in his heart and blessings from his god.
Grotto heads back to the path and approaches the mill as silently as possible.
"That windmill sure looks like a giant from here. If only my friends Don and Sancho were to marvel at it!" Grotto thinks to himself while letting out a quiet chuckle.
Raven reaches the windmill without detection, assuming there are people inside and settles in beside an opening in the wall and listens. He hears two voices coming from within.
"Ohhhhh, we going to be in so much trouble."
"My dad's gonna kill me."
"Maybe they won't find out it was us!"
"It was an accident!"
"Uh-oh, someone's coming! Quiet!"
"Let's get out of here!"
Grotto trudges up the lane toward the windmill. There is a sudden scuffle of movement inside and two children, one boy and one girl, neither more ten or twelve, run out the back.
And straight into Raven. "Hold it right there, you two!" The kids scream and turn to run the other way, only to be hemmed in by Grotto.
"Stop you two hoodlums! We know what you
did! Do you how much trouble you are causing!?! Now tell us how you went about it before we turn you over to the guards!"
Grotto bluffs in his most authoritative bad cop voice.
The little girls wails, "We didn't mean to. We just wanted our dads to stop fighting!"
The boy starts crying as well. "I just thought the powder would make the pies smell bad. I didn't know THAT would happen!"
"We'll earn money to pay for everything! Don't send us to ja-a-a-ail," the girl whimpers.
Grotto leans in close. "Where did you get this powder? Do you have more? Did you sabotage anything else?"
The boy wipes his nose on his sleeve, "I took it from my dad's kitchen. He's been sick and acting funny. He put some of the powder in his pies...and...and something worse."
"Who's child are you boy? What else is in the pies? Do you know what your father is planning?"
"My dad is Mortimer Wormstooth, sir. He threw up. There were...maggots in it and he mixed those in too. But he was crying when he did it."
The girl's head turns swiftly to the boy, "Timeo! That's gross! He puts maggots in his pies?"
The boy nods. "He did. And he was sweating a lot and had dark circles under his eyes. He kept clutching his belly and he could barely stand. I don't know if he did anything else."
Raven frowns and leans in close to Grotto, "Could something be controlling the father?"
"I've heard enough!" Grotto says firmly to the children. "You have some explaining to do to Jacksal and Harrick!"
"Let's talk more once the children are dealt with. Come with me to drop them off," Grotto whispers to Raven.
Grotto scoops up the children, throws one over each shoulder and begins running down the path toward Jacksal's home.
Raven holds out one hand to signal Grotto to wait a moment, "Timeo, where is your father now?"
The boy shrugs, "Probably at home. He's had a hard time getting around ever since he got sick."
"How long has he been sick?"
"About two weeks, I guess."
The pair escort the children back to Jacksal's house where the kids confess. Jacksal's rage instantly abates, the wind taken out of his sails by the revelation that it was his daughter who sabotaged his oven. Lord Harrick frowns. "All of this over a pie-baking contest! We need to go check on Mortimer. If he is somehow diseased or cursed, we need to isolate him before it spreads. I will pull all of Mortimer's pies from competition and take them to the local temple until we can determine the best way of disposing of them."
The ranger slips into the tree line and vanishes.
Grotto leaves the path and gives prayers and thanks to Hanseath for a few minutes time while Raven gets into place. He feels resolve in his heart and blessings from his god.
Grotto heads back to the path and approaches the mill as silently as possible.
"That windmill sure looks like a giant from here. If only my friends Don and Sancho were to marvel at it!" Grotto thinks to himself while letting out a quiet chuckle.
Raven reaches the windmill without detection, assuming there are people inside and settles in beside an opening in the wall and listens. He hears two voices coming from within.
"Ohhhhh, we going to be in so much trouble."
"My dad's gonna kill me."
"Maybe they won't find out it was us!"
"It was an accident!"
"Uh-oh, someone's coming! Quiet!"
"Let's get out of here!"
Grotto trudges up the lane toward the windmill. There is a sudden scuffle of movement inside and two children, one boy and one girl, neither more ten or twelve, run out the back.
And straight into Raven. "Hold it right there, you two!" The kids scream and turn to run the other way, only to be hemmed in by Grotto.
"Stop you two hoodlums! We know what you
Grotto bluffs in his most authoritative bad cop voice.
The little girls wails, "We didn't mean to. We just wanted our dads to stop fighting!"
The boy starts crying as well. "I just thought the powder would make the pies smell bad. I didn't know THAT would happen!"
"We'll earn money to pay for everything! Don't send us to ja-a-a-ail," the girl whimpers.
Grotto leans in close. "Where did you get this powder? Do you have more? Did you sabotage anything else?"
The boy wipes his nose on his sleeve, "I took it from my dad's kitchen. He's been sick and acting funny. He put some of the powder in his pies...and...and something worse."
"Who's child are you boy? What else is in the pies? Do you know what your father is planning?"
"My dad is Mortimer Wormstooth, sir. He threw up. There were...maggots in it and he mixed those in too. But he was crying when he did it."
The girl's head turns swiftly to the boy, "Timeo! That's gross! He puts maggots in his pies?"
The boy nods. "He did. And he was sweating a lot and had dark circles under his eyes. He kept clutching his belly and he could barely stand. I don't know if he did anything else."
Raven frowns and leans in close to Grotto, "Could something be controlling the father?"
"I've heard enough!" Grotto says firmly to the children. "You have some explaining to do to Jacksal and Harrick!"
"Let's talk more once the children are dealt with. Come with me to drop them off," Grotto whispers to Raven.
Grotto scoops up the children, throws one over each shoulder and begins running down the path toward Jacksal's home.
Raven holds out one hand to signal Grotto to wait a moment, "Timeo, where is your father now?"
The boy shrugs, "Probably at home. He's had a hard time getting around ever since he got sick."
"How long has he been sick?"
"About two weeks, I guess."
The pair escort the children back to Jacksal's house where the kids confess. Jacksal's rage instantly abates, the wind taken out of his sails by the revelation that it was his daughter who sabotaged his oven. Lord Harrick frowns. "All of this over a pie-baking contest! We need to go check on Mortimer. If he is somehow diseased or cursed, we need to isolate him before it spreads. I will pull all of Mortimer's pies from competition and take them to the local temple until we can determine the best way of disposing of them."
Grotto walks with Raven to Mortimer's house, talking along the way.
"Two weeks is a long time to be ill. Vomiting live maggots is unnatural. Maggots usually feed on dead and decaying matter. There is no way a maggot could withstand the stomach acid of a man! If his insides are decayed to where maggots are being vomited, he would have been dead long before now! Plus, this mystery of where the demon ash originated is still concerning."
Raven nods, thinking about Grotto's words."The two are likely related. This town is not that big. How much could possibly be going on here?"
It doesn't take long for the Wormstooth farmstead to come into view. The main house is two stories of fitted wood with a stone chimney. The entire place is surrounded by apple trees and a river runs past along the far side of the property.
"Two weeks is a long time to be ill. Vomiting live maggots is unnatural. Maggots usually feed on dead and decaying matter. There is no way a maggot could withstand the stomach acid of a man! If his insides are decayed to where maggots are being vomited, he would have been dead long before now! Plus, this mystery of where the demon ash originated is still concerning."
Raven nods, thinking about Grotto's words."The two are likely related. This town is not that big. How much could possibly be going on here?"
It doesn't take long for the Wormstooth farmstead to come into view. The main house is two stories of fitted wood with a stone chimney. The entire place is surrounded by apple trees and a river runs past along the far side of the property.
"So, am I still the bad cop?" Grotto says with a smile.
Grotto knocks at the door, "Mr or Mrs Wormstooth? Any one home?"
Raven stands beside the dwarf. "The wife died awhile back. No Mrs. anymore." The elf reaches out and knocks. "Mortimer? We need to speak with you." When there is no answer, Raven twists the knob and pushes. The door swings in quietly. A rancid smell billows out of the interior accompanied by some soft crying.
"Smells like something died in here!" Grotto says to Raven in a hushed tone
"Mortimer, your son has gotten into a bit of trouble and we need to speak to you. Hope this is a good time, care if we come in?"
Raven slides Nightwatcher from its sheath and slips into the house. He creeps silently across the floor, making his way through the front parlor to the kitchen that lies beyond.
There, in the beating heart of the home, he finds Mortimer, sitting at the table, soaked in sweat, smelling of sickness, gasping for breath, hands folded in prayer, whispering "Help me" over and over through his tears.
Grotto knocks at the door, "Mr or Mrs Wormstooth? Any one home?"
Raven stands beside the dwarf. "The wife died awhile back. No Mrs. anymore." The elf reaches out and knocks. "Mortimer? We need to speak with you." When there is no answer, Raven twists the knob and pushes. The door swings in quietly. A rancid smell billows out of the interior accompanied by some soft crying.
"Smells like something died in here!" Grotto says to Raven in a hushed tone
"Mortimer, your son has gotten into a bit of trouble and we need to speak to you. Hope this is a good time, care if we come in?"
There, in the beating heart of the home, he finds Mortimer, sitting at the table, soaked in sweat, smelling of sickness, gasping for breath, hands folded in prayer, whispering "Help me" over and over through his tears.
Grotto follows Raven's lead and heads in. He speaks to Mortimer. "Kind sir, you seen very ill. I know not which god you pray to but my powers through my god, Hanseath can help cure you. Also, I am a great alchemist and healer with the more secular methods. Can you tell me what ails you so that I can diagnose your sickness and help you to a road to recovery?"
The kind and gentle words of the great healer Grotto disguise the aggressiveness behind his mask. The war priest prays to the mighty dwarven god of war, Hanseath. One hand Grotto has outstretched to sooth the weary man, the other, on the handle of his axe at a low ready position prepared for an upward strike to cleave the man in half. The duality of Grotto's obligations to please his God through war and killing are only balanced by his need to heal and mend.
Mortimer looks at the dwarf, "The maggots. They talk to me. They tell me to do the most awful, despicable things or they will kill me. I won't do it. Not anymore. She poisoned me, infected me, and now, my son, he will be orphaned."
The kind and gentle words of the great healer Grotto disguise the aggressiveness behind his mask. The war priest prays to the mighty dwarven god of war, Hanseath. One hand Grotto has outstretched to sooth the weary man, the other, on the handle of his axe at a low ready position prepared for an upward strike to cleave the man in half. The duality of Grotto's obligations to please his God through war and killing are only balanced by his need to heal and mend.
Mortimer looks at the dwarf, "The maggots. They talk to me. They tell me to do the most awful, despicable things or they will kill me. I won't do it. Not anymore. She poisoned me, infected me, and now, my son, he will be orphaned."
"She?" Grotto asks.
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