In the cellars of this ancestral home of the Mogtresors, there are several eerie things that can be observed in the night hours. A pained coughing sound, the muffled jingle of bells, the smell of a burning torch, the disappearance of bottles that you are certain were there a moment ago. Most wine cellars are cool, but the chilling dampness of this one is pervasive.
The farthest wall, when inspected, will reveal mismatched bricks in one section. They seem newer than the rest, though all are still half a century old at least, and the older bricks around this section are beginning to crumble. When they approach, the sounds, the smell, and the chill will all grow more pronounced.
Should the wall be broken down, a grotesque sight awaits within. A moogle skeleton, shackled to the wall, dressed in the remnants of a jester's costume, stares with empty eye sockets. Scattered around the floor of this makeshift tomb is a burned out torch and a pile of empty wine bottles, both old and new. As soon as the wall comes down, the shackles give way and the bundle of bones falls to the floor. All of the mysterious occurrences that lured the party here cease. It seems the unfinished business of this poor moogle was not to quench his thirst, but to find his freedom.
The family who now lives in the house is horrified at the news of the discovery, but glad that the restless spirit can be put to rest. They help pay for the unnamed moogle to be laid to rest properly, and offer the Heroes both a gil reward and their gratitude.
The Cask of Amontillapo
The farthest wall, when inspected, will reveal mismatched bricks in one section. They seem newer than the rest, though all are still half a century old at least, and the older bricks around this section are beginning to crumble. When they approach, the sounds, the smell, and the chill will all grow more pronounced.
Should the wall be broken down, a grotesque sight awaits within. A moogle skeleton, shackled to the wall, dressed in the remnants of a jester's costume, stares with empty eye sockets. Scattered around the floor of this makeshift tomb is a burned out torch and a pile of empty wine bottles, both old and new. As soon as the wall comes down, the shackles give way and the bundle of bones falls to the floor. All of the mysterious occurrences that lured the party here cease. It seems the unfinished business of this poor moogle was not to quench his thirst, but to find his freedom.
The family who now lives in the house is horrified at the news of the discovery, but glad that the restless spirit can be put to rest. They help pay for the unnamed moogle to be laid to rest properly, and offer the Heroes both a gil reward and their gratitude.