When the two magi return to the common room, they see that the young woman seems to have calmed down under Dietlinde's ministrations. Catching sight of the wizardly duo, the fat woman rises from her bench to join them before they can approach the girl.
"Now," she tells Prochorus while poking him with her finger, "don't you go harassing the poor girl! She was scared half to death by what happened in there." Her glare includes Japik, but she refrains from ordering him around. "Anyway, she basically told me what she saw, or rather didn't see, so there's no need for you to go an question her." She lowers her tone so that the girl won't hear. "That would only send her back into hysterics, and if she spreads the word around it will become much harder to hire helpers. Better of the two of you don't go into the kitchen when she's there."
In a more normal tone, she relates what the girl witnesses. Basically, she was starting to prepare the evening's meal when the kitchen implements and foodstuff she'd laid out on the table started moving around as if tossed aside by someone. She even felt herself being showed aside by an invisible presence. After that, she simply fled from the kitchen in panic.
"Now, what's the story in there?" Dietlinde demands, "I need to know how to explain things to her. I'll try to spin out a tale that won't be too frightening for her, but I need facts to base myself on. Now spill!"
Japik looks at Prochorus. "You saw most of what happened down by the river so I'll let you describe it. But we need to take notes when this happens again. Maybe there is a pattern."
He turns to Dietlinde. "Good job with the girl. She looked really frightened but I don't think this is something harmful, just a little annoying. I'll let Yulia handle all my business in the kitchen so don't worry about that."
Prochorus mumbles something about women, but backs down.
"The truth is that the house is haunted by a mother's ghost and her children. The mother apparently uses the kitchen to bake bread, hoping to lure the children away from the river, where they must have drowned. That is why we found bread back then - it repeats. As to what you should tell the girl... Maybe a house elf? With a kindly streak, who is just so eager to bake us bread? You can show her the bread, and maybe Japik can whip up a nice elderly gnome with ruddy cheeks?"
"Oh yes. That would be a great idea." Japik laughs at Prochorus' suggestion. "A baker gnome. Never heard of them but everything is possible with some imagination."
Dietlinde snorts, "A gnome? A house elf? Really? You think all normal folk are that stupid?" She makes an offensive gesture at Prochorus, again ignoring Japik. "I don't know why I put up with you, you... gnome, yoursel. I warned you there might be a ghost. And what did you do? A big fat nothing. And now I'm supposed to smooth things up with the hired help? Me again." She raises her hands in false despair, "Very well, I'll see what I can do!"
Weeks pass without any further apparition of the ghost. It is only at the end of the summer that Prochorus, who'd been in the common room one late evening strumming softly on his kantele while everyone else had retired for the night, hears the sound of broken crockery coming from the kitchen.
In the dim light of the banked hearth, he can discern the ghost standing near the table, kneading a lump of bread dough. A loaf of bread forms from the dough and the smell of freshly baked bread begins to fill the air.
The ghost doesn't seem to pay heed to Prochorus at first, but then she starts to mumble. "My children... must take care of my children. My poor children, I must protect them. They must come home. Come home my children, mama will protect you. He won't hurt you. No no no no, he doesn't mean to, not if you don't make him angry. Come home my children."
Before long, the ghost moves away from the table, towards the door to the backyard. It swings open as she passes through it.
What he sees outside reminds him very much of the previous appearance of the ghost. She moves towards the river, calling for her children to come home. Her voice barely reaches Prochorus, for sit doesn't carry much, yet her words are quite clear. The children are not there, but after a while something moves in the water and they emerge from the river, dripping wet in the moon's light. In the distance, you can hear some sort of boisterous laugh as a group of men call to each other farther upstream, closer to the town's center.
"Oh please, please come home my children!" The ghost keeps calling out to the children, who again ignore her for the most part, playing in the river. When they spot you, they again ask you to join them in their watery games.
"He wants to know where the man of the house is!" Laughs the oldest cruelly.
"The one who hurt us, the one who drowned us!" Cries the youngest.
"He is gone, far far gone." Says the middle one darkly. "He could not bear the guilt of his crimes, instead choosing to leave one more body behind."
"Come play with us," all three children say, looking at Prochorus hungrily. "We will show you the games we play with grown men, with those large enough to hurt children."
Again, the ghostly woman does not ackowledges Prochorus' words. But, coincidently perhaps, her monologue seem to address them.
"No, no, no, the children must not keep playing in the river. That made him so angry. so angry! I cannot help it if they get hurt, when they keep playing in the river. Come home, my children! Stop these games at once! Oh please, please come home..."
Seeing Prochorus come closer to the river, the children seem eager to 'play' with him. They also come closer to the bank, yet remain about two paces inside the river. The river is not very deep here, nor is the current very strong at the moment, for the tide is rising. The oldest child goes to all four, almost like an animal about to spring forward, with a hungry rictus contorting its childish features. The youngest one is jumping up and down with glee, although its feet never leave the water. The middle child hangs back slightly behind the other two, with a cold calculating look on its face.
Your children are safe with me, milady, Prochorus boasts, brandishing his drum.
Look at this, children! A drum! Fun, isn't it? I'll just come on over there and play you a song.
He begins to drum and drawl, sponting a level 10 ReIm that makes it seem and sound as if he was walking towards the children in the river although he actually stays put. He prepares to dodge with the image and make it run away from the river (but not towards his actual position!) if the children attack the image.
The sound of Prochorus' drum and his shouted words thunder into the night. A dog starts barking at a neighbour's house in reaction to the ruckus. (Hardly unnoticeable, and even if the former inn is at the edge of Meden, there are people living nearby...)
As Prochorus attempts to cast his spell, something goes awfully wrong (1). His image begins to distort and energy flows out of him uncontrollably, leaving him weak with fatigue (2).
The children laugh cruelly at him, mocking him, and then start moving away. By the time he is recovered enough to do anytime else, the ghost has faded and the children are gone into the night.
(1) Single Botch
(2) He loses 4 Fatigue Levels, and for the next day his image will be distorted and offset on his body. Any Dex-related activities where sight-based feedback is relevant -- like playing a musical instrument or even picking up a mug to drink -- is at -3. You are essentially to be treated as having the Clumsy flaw for the next day.