The Manor at Morton's Bluff

The town of Morton's Bluff was enjoying another peaceful midsummer evening with the families settling in for the evening to dine with their loved ones or in the process of closing up their shops. While the majority of the town had the pleasant sounds of decent townsfolk ending their days, one building was quite alive with raucous filled amusement that frequented the Yellow Pot tavern. Drinkers both frequent and passing through, were embroiled in the spectacle of fisticuffs that had begun in the main room. A young tavern worker was taking names and bets for the patrons that wished to enter the tournament of brawlers.

A pair of patrons kept to themselves in a corner of the large room trying to hear each other over the sound of drunken brawlers. One was a hawk nosed cleric, his head shaved cleanly and dressed in soft blue traveling robes with dark blue trimmings and the symbol of a tear drop embroidered in cloth-of-gold that marked him as a servant of Kaysis, the goddess of regret and reconciliation. His traveling companion was dressed in leather and fur with dark hair that went well past her shoulders. She had an armband on her left arm adorned with several black feathers and talons from some kind of avian creature.

"The manor house of the Morton family is up on the ridge at the edge of town," said the cleric. "It has a lovely view of the town at sunset or so I've been told."

The woman's tone was rough. "Good to know but why drag yourself, and me, all the way to this town?"

"The Morton family was a very beneficial patron to several of the churches across the kingdom of our great Prince Deven. Since the family's tragic events nearly fifteen years ago many wish to see the family venerated and remembered, at least in some way. I was sent to recover some relic the family treasured. I hired you, barbarian, to-" The woman slammed her mug of weak ale onto the table at the use of the term barbarian as an insult. The cleric continued despite the outburst. "I hired you to protect me on the road, Mariah Crowtalon."

Mariah Crowtalon rolled her eyes at the cleric and the strange beliefs held by the people in the land of Harkenstead. The job seemed easy enough and she could use the coin provided by the job to purchase necessary supplies for her journeys across the Hinterlands and Harkenstead.

"So, Kaspian, all we need to do is go into an old building, grab a dusty thing and we're done?"

"Yes, for the most part."

A serving girl, young and pretty with deep dimples on her smiling face, approached the table to refill drinks and serve meals. "Pardon me but I couldn't help but over hear you were talking about the old manor." Her smile became a nervous grin. "They say that the building has become haunted since Lord Morton's family died. Ghosts and other undead things protect the riches that are still said to be laying about the place."

Kaspian the cleric furrowed his eyebrows at the haunting description of the manor. "What would you know of this, child?"

The serving girl fidgeted and used the serving platter as a shield against the questions. "Well, every so often scavengers and treasure hunters pass through town intending to head off to the manor but are never seen again. Last night three kids from here went off to see the manor but haven't been seen since and many fear them dead."

"Why would local kids go to the manor if everyone around here knows the place has something strange going on?" asked Mariah.

"The three that went up aren't known for their wisdom, we are just simple farm folk, my lady. Just be wary if you dare venture to the manor." The serving girl left to tend to the other patrons leaving the cleric and the barbarian to contemplate the rumors of the haunted manor.

"What do you think, Kaspian?"

"Nothing more than superstitions from simple folk," Kaspian said dismissively. "I'm sure that the missing youngsters are just in search of a private place from their parents."