Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

"Will you now?" comes a voice from the bottom of the steps before the house.

Constable Ward Bridger stands there, greatsword bared, a bloody and shaking Rando Kem standing behind him. The constable's white scar running down the left side of his face practically glows as the rest of his face is red with fury.

"Drop the weapon, put your hands out before you and lay face down on the porch, "Or I will administer the baron's justice right here and now."

"Son of a bitch," Heath mutters. Shaking his head, he takes both his axes and tosses them to the ground. "Bit of an overreaction for trespassing, Ward. I ain't sure what that bastard Rogren told you, but I was heading straight to your house just now. We can talk plenty there."

Heath kneels down and holds a hand out to Rando.

"Son, no one's going to make you do anything you don't want to as long as I'm around. It's OK."

"Keep 'im away from me!" Rando screams. "Kill 'im, Constable! You kill 'im like y'said y'would!"

"What?" Heath blinks in surprise. "WHAT?"

"Get on the ground, now. You have eluded me for a year, but I have you at last. I will not ask again."

Heath looks incredulously at Bridger and turns to Rando, his expression turning hard. He turns back to Bridger and holds his hands out, palms up.

"Ward, I didn't kill Ronco and Priscilla, no matter what Rando may say. I was in Foxton helping distill some medicine for the flock that year, and there are plenty of shepherds that can account for that.

"Now I know you got a job to do, and I ain't going to keep you from doing it. You take me to the baron and cast whatever spells you need and we'll get this figured out. But I am asking you as a friend and someone you've known for coming on 20 years now, that you let me walk out of this town under my own power. You can put those manacles on me soon as we get on the Baron's Road, but I am asking that you let me walk out of this town like a man."

"He's a liar," the boy howls, crying. "He's a liar and he wuz comin' back fer me!"

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

"You will walk before me, slowly, with no sudden moves, to my tower," Constable Ward Bridger says. "We will wait for Tucker to return from the abbey. Between Bergens and Kems, Leaches and Chandlers, I'm not leaving this town unguarded again."

"Ward, my son is an imperial fugitive for conspiring with the kobolds," Heath says. "You take me away what's that going to look like? If ... when my son comes home, I want as little shame put on him as possible. I can't be adding my own onto his.

"I'm going to walk now, and I'd surely appreciate it if you sheathe that sword and keep things friendly. Town's got enough to talk about with Rando looking a fright. And I ain't going to look back either. I'll trust you to keep to your conscience on this. Everything can be explained there."

As Heath walks, his hands to his sides, he speaks without looking back.

"I ain't ever going to hurt you Rando. I just want to say that even if you don't believe it right now."

Heath hears an irritated noise from the constable, followed by the sound of his sword being slowly sheathed.

"Don't fool yourself -- I can still catch you with a pegleg."

He clumps along after Heath.

"Never thought I could, Ward. I watched you chase down a kobold scout in snow three feet deep. Of course we both would have died from that raiding party if the Caver brothers hadn't found us." Heath smiles tightly as he walks forward. "You ever miss those days? Simpler."

"Save your words until we're behind closed doors. My ears haven't stopped ringing from hearing all of Chandler's excuses."

Despite the situation, Heath laughs.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

A tall figure in a hooded cloak waits by the tower as the strange trio approach.

"Wait here," Bridger says to Heath, and moves to speak with the figure. The taller figure offers to show an object to the constable, who demurs for the moment, motioning for him to wait outside.

"Inside, Leach." Bridger leads Heath inside the small tower, taking him to a room with a steel-bound door and a narrow barred window looking outside. He gestures towards a sturdy wooden bench and waits for the other man to go inside.

Rando has been angrily marching after Heath and the Constable, his scrawny arms crossed in front of him. When Bridger beckons Heath in, the child scowls, exasperated.

"Y'said you'd kill him!"

He picks up a small rock, hurls it at Heath's head, and dashes off to parts unknown. The blow was not a deadly one, but Heath winces and scowls at the retreating child.

"You want to catch him, I'll wait. I ain't got any interest in making this any harder."

"He's a boy," Bridger says. "I know where he goes when he's hungry or sleepy."

The constable locks Heath in and heads outside, closing the door of his tower behind him. Through the small barred window, Heath can barely hear the conversation outside, although he notices the other man's voice sounds strange somehow.

Heath sighs and looks up to the light coming through the window, not bothering to get up. He isn't expecting to stay long. And even if he did, Heath doesn't get bored easily. Having to spend hours crouched down under cover of rotten leaves and mud while staking out a Reaver camp, silent and still for fear of a brutal death, Heath had long learned to occupy himself. Instead, he tabulates in his mind what still has to be done at the apothecary for the next day or two.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

It is after dark when Hazel Sawyer knocks on the constable's door. Heath Leacher watches from his cell as she enters, followed by a kobold. In her arms is an unconscious Ebuferpaly Potentloins.

She looks confused as to what's happening, but deposits the gnome on a long table as the constable's other guest enters the room, towering over everyone else.

"Hazel," Constable Ward Bridger says, as the other figure pulls back his hood, revealing leonine features, "This is Nargrav. He's a bounty hunter."

"Miss Sawyer," the litorian rumbles, handing her a rolled trio of wanted posters, "I understand you helped in the search for Renraw Kem, Katadid Leach and Tock Chandler."

Flabbergasted, Hazel stares up at Nargrav with a mix of awe and confusion. She momentarily forgets about Bufer as she drinks in the leonine features, bursting with curiosity.

I bet Kat would love -- wait, what did he say about Kat?

She unrolls the wanted posters and scans the images.

"Yes, sir, I did, for all the good it done us."

Flower meekly stands in the shadow of the wall, wishing he were invisible. His eyes widen considerably at the entrance of the litorian and the mention of Renraw Kem.

Having spent so long in the cell with nothing to do except make lists in his head and fume over how much work he would have to do tomorrow to make up for the lost time today, Heath is momentarily confused by the sudden rush of people. He is torn between concern for the gnome and concern for whatever the bounty hunter has planned for his son. Ultimately, his field doctor's instincts take over. He looks suspiciously at the kobold.

"Hazel, what happened?" Heath pries open Bufer's eyes and looks at how bloodshot they are. "Was it the kobold? Or the sisters?"

"We cleansed the abbey, but the abbess' ghost did something to him. I don't know what: It seemed like only a second, and then he was out of it. Couldn't get any response from him. Thought maybe you could mix something up to make him all right.

"And the kobold ain't like any other I met. Seems right helpful. Cheery, even."

"Mister Leach!" Flower blurts out. "I would never hurt!"

"You want to count the headstones out there, reptile?" Heath snaps and points angrily toward the cemetery. "Huh? You want to know how many of them were put there by YOUR People? And you wonder WHY I HAVE TO ASK THE QUESTION?"

And just as sudden as Heath's outburst begins, it stops.

"So you vouch for him?" he quietly asks Hazel, his face flushed.

"NEVER WANTED WAS BORN THIS WAY!" Flower yells, his voice catching. "NEVER KILLED NO ONE! NEVER WOULD! ONLY WANTED ... HELP! YOU AND EVERYBODY! JUST WANT PEACE! ONLY! LEAVE ME ALONE, WARD! WITH ROGREN NOW!"

Flower retreats to the corner, turning his back and sobbing violently. He fishes something out of a pouch and clutches it tightly in his claws before composing himself and turning again to the cell.

"The lichen, it helps with night terrors. Please use it to help Mister Ebuferpaly. He's a nice gnome."

Heath stares for a moment before quietly taking the lichen. Reluctantly, he puts his hand on Flower's shoulder.

"Sorry, i-it's been a rough day, although I expect you've had it worse. Let me look at that leg when I'm done, Hazel. If I can get a mortar, I can grind this up and make a tea. It helped Kat when he had some rough ones. I can't find any physical ailments, but Bufer does seem to be having a time of it. He's in a deeper than any natural sleep I've ever seen. We may just have to wait and see if he wakes, but ... Well, let's just see."

"I will pray for him at dawn," the constable says quietly.

"I'd like to sit with him for the night, if it's all right," Hazel says as she fiddles with the band around her index finger. "I expect he'll be right confounded when he wakes."

She steps closer to Kat's father and speaks in an undertone.

"I only met Flower today, but he does seem harmless enough, even helpful, or at least trying to be. So, how come you were in a cell?"

Heath flushes.

"You've heard your father mutter hopes about you growinf out of it, right? Let's just say that sometimes, after you do grow out of it, you grow right back. We'll talk more later."

Heath darts a still wary look at Flower, who seems to be getting his tears under control. Heath dusts his hands off and approaches the constable.

"Ward, I appreciate the fact that I ain't got much call to ask you much, but I would be right grateful if you'd let me send Miss Sawyer out for some supplies. Wouldn't hurt to maybe call Mother Bridger for a look see herself, seeing as she's been doing this longer. If it's all right, Bufer can stay here and we'll look after him. I doubt Therurt would appreciate Bufer snoozing on his anvil given he ain't too much fonder of him awake."

"Now then," Heath looks the lion man up and down. "What's this about my son?"

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

The litorian looks down at Heath Leach with bland gold eyes.

"Your son is a fugitive from imperial justice and there is a substantial reward for his capture." The bounty hunter shifts his weight, and looped metal chains jingle within leather slings at his hips. "I am starting here to see if I can pick up the trail that others have lost."

Heath regards the bounty hunter calmly. He bends down to pick up the wanted posters.

"Did some tracking myself back in the day. Of course, they were Black Reavers; we weren't too concerned about them living after we found them." He looks at the slings and back up to the bounty hunter's eyes. "How concerned are you about them living?"

"I care about the money," the litorian shrugs.

"Let me put it this way: You get paid more for them dead or alive?" Heath asks, keeping his voice carefully level. "Because one way, I'll help. The other, you can go rot."

"I won't need your help," Nargrav smiles, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth, the beaded braids dangling from his chin clicking quietly against one another.

"Neither would I, if it comes down to kicking your ass," Heath says, gritting his teeth.

"They have stand trial, and they ain't doing that if they're dead." Hazel looks to the constable, remembering his promise to help Kat. "Ain't that so, sir?"

"Be quiet," the constable snaps at Heath. "You're still a suspect. Tend to the gnome and that's all.

"Hazel, run along and find Mother Bridger. If anyone from Wit's End is in town, bring them as well; maybe this is something a gnome would know about.

"Nargrav, I don't believe Mister Leach will be of much use to you. Go with Hazel and ask any questions you might have. I've told you what I know. Time for you to get to tracking, I reckon."

"And me, Ward?" Flower asks. "What are my orders?"

"Go home. Rogren needs you."

"Roggy?" Flower's brow wrinkles with concern. He starts to exit quickly, but turns to Hazel first. "Thank you for telling the truth about me! Please see that Mister Ebuferpaly gets better."

He looks once more at Heath Leach and dashes back to Kem House, the exhaustion of the day all but forgotten with thoughts of Rogren.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Hazel leaves her pack piled in the corner with Bufer's, picks up her lantern and hurries out the door in search of Mother Bridger. Nagrav hurries after Hazel, his long legs easily keeping pace.

"Should have sent Fibber for his aunt right away," Hazel sighs, shaking her head in disgust, wishing she'd thought of it sooner.

She studies the bounty hunter out of the corner of her eye as she heads for the Bridgers.

"Have you caught lots of fugitives? You must be a long ways from home."

Hazel nervously awaits a barrage of questions from the stranger.

Bufer, I hope Garl will lend me your fancy habit of wiggling out of tough questions.

"Yes. Some I have caught, others I have brought back the proof of their deaths. Whatever pays more," Nargrav says. "And I no longer have a home, so it is no problem for me.

"You tracked these fugitives and you knew them, I think. Where will they run?"

"I suppose you noticed already, but it's kind of a small town. Everybody knows everybody." Hazel shrugs. "I wouldn't of figured they could run far anyways. Step five feet into the woods, bend down to tie a bootlace and end up lost, all of them. Stayed on the road into Foxton, at least.

"Why'd you become a bounty hunter? Is everyone you track a criminal? What do you do if they're innocent?"

"I do not decide guilt or innocent, I track quarry for money. That is all," the litorian rumbles. "Do they know anyone in the settlements to the east? Do they perhaps have family in Stonecrown or Blackberry Ridge?"

"None I ever heard about. Ren's family's mostly dead or missing', and you already met Kat's dad."

The Bridger house is dark when Hazel reaches it; she pounds on the door with her fist.

"Open up, we got a patient for Mother!"

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

"I need to send a message to Middleborough about the bounties on the boys' heads and request transport for you while you await trial," the constable tells Heath. "I'm going to trust you will be safe with the gnome and look after him, but I can't risk you running, so I'm going to need to lock you both in the cell until I get back. I've got no time for arguments at this point."

"Good to know my word ain't good any more after a known family of liars says so," Heath says, his face reddening.

Heath walks over to Bufer and proceeds to check over the gnome to see if there was anything he missed. He doesn't look up when Ward leaves.

Heath jerks backwards in surprise as the gnome suddenly sits upright with a tremendous gasp, as though finally breaking through the surface after being too long submerged. His breath comes as rapid, shallow panting, as his eyes, wide and haunted, dart wildly around the room.

"Flesh betrayed the lost moon found barbarians at the gates the pyramid revealed wizards burning in the streets their faces consumed by venom-shaped thrall it is the end the end the end of all--" He breaks off suddenly as he raises his right hand and viciously slaps himself across the face.

"WEAK!" he howls, spittle flying wildly from his mouth. "SCARED LITTLE GNOMEY MEWLING! JUST LIKE FEEBLE-MIND NUN-WHORE! WHERE BE YOU FAITH IN STOOPID TRICKSY GOD NOW, CRYING LITTLE GNOMEY?"

Confused, Heath leans in and reaches out towards the gnome, then flinches as Bufer's snarls at him, then breaks down weeping, his body wracked with choking sobs as he reaches up to gently stroke Heath's face.

"Leach Katyadid's father hard and angry inside but always so kind loved so much his broken little boy already carrying so much hurt so much pain such a burden shouldn't have to bear no more no more NO MORE YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM YOU EVIL EVIL BASTARDS NOT IF'N GARL TAKES 'IM FIRST!"

And with that, tears pouring down his face, Bufer hurls himself bodily at Heath, hands outstretched and clawing at the apothecary's throat.

"Blessed mother!" Heath leaps back, terrified. "It's all right. You're safe and ... ESTANNA!"

The screaming gnome collides with Heath, but is unable to lock his hands around the startled man's neck, and he's pushed back off.

But there's no place for Heath to run in the small locked cell. It's 10 feet by 10 feet, with a barred window and a locked grate for a door. Two benches are built into the walls. Even if Heath could get under one, the gnome would have an easier time of it.

"Gods damn it, Bufer ..."

"HAW HAW HAW HAW!" Bufer laughs as Heath lunges for him. "NOW MEDICINE MAN KILL YOU, YOU LYING, CHEATING, WEAK-WILLED LITTLE GNOMEY! CAN'T EVEN DO THIS RIGHT!

"No!" he says then, his laughter transforming itself into soul-wrenching sobs. "Like Heath! Save Heath! Kill Heath!"

Moving with a surprising swiftness, Bufer reaches into his right sleeve and produces a dagger. Light glints off its pointed tip as he thrusts it at the advancing apothecary.

Heath manages to slap it away from him and grabs the squirming, kicking gnome.

"Damn it, you ain't making sense. Calm down! WARD! Sawyer! A little -- damn it -- A LITTLE HELP HERE!"

Bufer gnashes his teeth as he struggles against Heath with all his might.

"KILL HIM, MEDICINE MAN! must get free can't let it take 'em KILL THE GNOMEY! KILL HIM BEFORE HE KILLS YOU AND HER AND EVERYBODY ELSE! everybody else kill everybody else kill her kill her kill her before the end HIM SLIPPERY-TRICKSY slippery-tricksy like a fish squrim like a fish escape to the river then come back and kill BUT WEAK AND STOOPID! KILL HIM! Love them save them kill them all!!"

With some difficulty, Heath is able to slam the squirming gnome to the ground and hold him there, closing his knees in time to stop Bufer's boot from meeting his crotch at high speed.

Being slammed into the stone floor briefly knocks the wind out of the crazed gnome. He gasps painfully, sucking in huge, shuddering lungfuls of breath, his face absolutely sodden with tears.

"NO!" he shouts weakly, clearly overcome with despair. "You don't understand you don't know you don't SEE! Why can't you SEE?"

Before Heath can react, a strange, hard look comes into Bufer's eyes, and he sneers up at the apothecary's face.

"KILL IT!" it hisses urgently. "KILL THE GNOMEY! STAB IT SNUFF IT WRENCH ITS FEEBLE LITTLE HEAD OFF REACH DOWN ITS THROAT AND PULL OUT ITS HEART KILL IT KILL IT KILLITKILLITKILLITKILLIT! "

"Ebu! What am I supposed to see?"

Bufer blinks as Heath calls him by his familiar childhood name, and the murderous ferocity seems to fade from his eyes for a moment.

"Don't see can't see shouldn't have to see black giants older than the world bursting from the womb tearing clawing eating through the belly of the earth skin boiling melting blood raining from a fiery sky death is better death is sweeter no pain no fear no--

"NO!" he snarls suddenly, the madness in his eyes returning. "NO TALK! STOOPID MEDICINE MAN MUST LISTEN TO STORM! MEALY-MOUTHED GNOMEY WAS WEAK LIKE NUN-WHORE! NOW WEAK GNOMEY MUST DIE BEFORE HE KILL EVERYONE!"

With a gutteral howl, Bufer renews his struggle to get free, twisting and turning in an attempt to slip out of Heath's grasp. Bufer's changed style of wriggling catches Heath by surprise a moment, but he manages to hang onto the ranting gnome.

Clearly getting frustrated, Heath tries to grab the dagger and throw it to the side of the cell.

"Storm can piss off then! Ebu! I don't need saving from any nightmares! Black or otherwise, now drop that knife already!"

"NO!" Bufer shrieks, as he continues to struggle against the apothecary. "Not a dream not a hoax not an imaginary story pus-filled boils bursting across the surface of the world consuming it drowning it in blackness rot and decay you'll thank me when it's over Katy would know Katy would believe Katy would understand ..."

Heath blanches at the mention of his son. In fact, he almost lets the gnome slip out of his reach, but he holds on and keeps trying to grasp at the dagger to fling it away.

"So? Ebuferpaly Whitethatch Potenloins, you are a damned cleric of Garl Glittergold! You laugh at this crap, you don't lose your damn mind! Snap out of it before I try something drastic!"

Bufer screams, frantically trying to get free of Heath, who suddenly realizes that the gnome could have more than one dagger hidden upon his person.

"WRONG, STOOPID MEDICINE MAN!" Bufer snarls as he continues to struggle. "GNOMEY, HIM WEAK! NUN-WHORE MAKE HIS BRAIN GO SNAPPITY-SNAP LIKE DRY TWIG UNDER CLAW! YOU LISTEN TO STORM NOW -- YOU WANT LIVE, YOU TWIST TRICKSY GNOMEY'S HEAD OFF LIKE BROWN APPLE! ONLY THEN YOU AND HAZEL-LIKE-TREE AND SINGSONG GIRL-GNOMEY BE SAFE! KILLTHEGNOMEYKILLTHEGNOMEYKILLTHEGNOMEY!"

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Fibber opens the door, looking lazily at Hazel.

"She's helping with a baby. Now go away, you always get me in trouble."

And with that, he closes the door in her face.

Swearing under her breath, Hazel shoves the door open, just missing Fibber's back. The teen turns around, surprise quickly turning to anger.

"You can't just-"

"Shut up, Fib. You're going to be in more trouble if you don't help me find your aunt. Constable's orders, they are, and I mean to bring her back to the jail tonight." Hazel cranes her neck around and beckons to the litorian. "C'mon in, Nargrav, this'll just take a minute."

Hazel digs into her pockets and pulls out two coins, one copper and one gold, holding them up in front of Fibber. Bufer's worth the expense, and Fibber ain't like to be moved by noble sentiment.

"You tell me where she is, and I'll give you a copper now for your time and trouble. But," she waggles the gold coin, "You tell me where and you run and fetch her, bring her to the constable's with her healing kit, and I'll give you the gold when you get there." She eyes the scrawny teen. "Should keep you in drinks for a few days -- or maybe get your Da off your back about working a bit."

"FINE!" Fibber explodes, with exasperation. "She's at the Gardner house. Their oldest daughter was having a baby a few hours ago and she's not back yet. I'll go get her."

Hazel tucks the coins back into her pocket.

"Thank you, Hans." She gives the boy a warm, grateful smile. "I'll see you at the constable's."

Hazel ducks back out the door and jogs over to The Cat & The Fiddle to look for Heda Littlelark. The litorian shadows her steps.

"Anythin' else you need to know, Nargrav?"

"You know these men. How seriously did you try to track them? As you said, they are not woodsmen."

"Just to Foxton. Scoured the road for tracks, after picking up those damned caltrops, but they stayed with the wagon. Baron's men took over from there."

Hazel heads for the light shining from the tavern's windows.

"You always work alone?"

"I sometimes work with a partner." Without another word or a farewell, Nargrav turns away and heads into the underbrush. Hazel waits a moment to see if he'll return, but when he doesn't, she shrugs and moves onto the tavern.

The common room of The Cat & The Fiddle boasts a fair-sized crowd, and Hazel quickly scans the tables for any gnomes. Finding none, she waves to Ella and works her way past the tables toward the waitress. Ella delivers a quartet of mugs to a group of rowdy young men with a flourish before turning to the ranger.

"Haven't seen your friends all day, Haze. What can I get you?"

"Nothing for me, thanks, Ella. You seen Heda Littlelark in town today?" The longer she talks, the faster Hazel's words pour out. "Or any Wit's End folk out for Godsday observances? Any healers or religious folk in from out of town?"

Ella nods downwards with her chin at Hazel. The ranger looks down to find herself standing rather closer to Swifty than she might have preferred, especially given the leer on his face.

"You need a gnome, do you? Whatever you need, I'm ready to offer it to you."

Hazel hastily steps backward, knocking into a nearby chair and apologizing to the oblivious occupant. She looks down at the gnome, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

"And in 30 seconds or less, I've heard," she retorts. "I need a favor, Swifty. For Bufer."

Hazel twines her fingers in the edge of her cloak and crouches at the gnome's level.

"I need the best healer Wit's End has to offer, at the constable's, now. The abbey's cleansed, but Bufer won't wake up, and I don't even know what that thing did to him. Please."

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Bufer twists around from underneath Heath. Then Bufer's head falls forward, and it takes a moment before it registers that the gnome is unconscious.

Constable Bridger lifts Bufer off Heath with one hand, slipping his blackjack back onto his belt with the other.

At the door to the cell, Hazel and Swifty look on with concern.

"No," Swifty says as he watches the constable manacle Bufer's hands behind his back and lay him gently face down on a table before checking Heath for injuries. "I've never seen anything like that before."

Without another word, Swifty steps outside into the dark night, replaced a moment later by Mother Bridger, who quickly takes command of the constable's small office and cell.

The constable kicks everyone out but Bufer, Heath (whom he relocks inside the cage) and Mother Bridger, who fusses over the gnome while keeping her distance.

Hazel waits outside, concerned, and growing more concerned when Mother Bridger comes out, badly shaken and at her wit's end. The midwife returns to her earlier patient of the night, where she is on firmer ground.

"Well," the constable says, locking Heath and Bufer in his tower, albeit separately from one another this time, "I will ask Bahamut and Lothian for guidance while we await word from Wit's End. I advise going home, Hazel: Your family has been worried ever since you went to the abbey."

With that, and the weight of the world almost visible on his shoulders, the constable limps off to the chapel.

Bufer's companions, other than Emmerson and Oktav, are standing outside the constable's still-locked tower when the gnomes arrive in a wagon.

High Priest Boddynok Barennackle says a quiet word to the cloaked and hooded gnome driver of the pony cart before hopping down, and a pair of twin gnomes -- each with shocking orange-red hair -- clamber out of the back and hammer on the constable's door.

"He's not there," Tucker says, gently grabbing the senior cleric's wrist. "He's in the chapel."

"Well, get him!" snaps Barennackle. "We're taking him home for a rest. Honestly, Lothianism makes a woman mad and a gnome pays the price for it! Clerics don't grow on trees, you know! Under trees, certainly, but not on them. Go fetch the constable!"

Soon enough, Constable Bridger is opening the building amid a torrent of complaints, insults and, somewhat surprisingly, a stream of knock-knock jokes. The twins place the unconscious Bufer on a stretcher and bundle him onto the cart, covering him in blankets. Not a word is spoken to the shaggy ponies at the front of the cart, but they seem to know what to do, and immediately set out in the dark for Wit's End.

As they disappear from sight, the adventurers hear Barennackle's final admonition: "I mean, HONESTLY."

The constable scratches at his whiskers, contemplating. Without taking his eyes from the dark road the gnomes have just vanished down, he clears his throat.

"Heath Leach seems to have killed the Kems a while back."

"Oh, you want me to fetch him a beer?" Tuck responds, glibly, trying to hide his genuine shock.

"I'm going to trust you to take him to Middleborough tomorrow, Tucker. See that he doesn't escape," Bridger says. He winks at Tucker to soften his words. "The rest of you, go home. I'll want to know what happened in the abbey come morning. As for now, I think we all need the rest.

"And since you have made it back from the abbey, I'm guessing that congratulations are in order. Heda's going to add you all to the song, like as not. You're famous now."

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Chapter 8
The Dark Waters of Moss Pond​

It is midday on the 12th day of Rain, in the 721st year of the Imperial Age.

It is warm and sunny, perhaps the first really warm day of the year, as Ebuferpaly Potentloins marches through the Tulgey Wood, on the way to the Black Tower. The dwarf Emus Graymullet and his dog follow after, while the ranger Hazel Sawyer moves through the woods parallel to the other two, concealed by their noise, sure that the gnome is leading them into a trap.

The Wizard of Green Mountain, Khenemet-Apep, has sent word for Bufer to visit him, as he has news of the kobolds' plot to acquire a second dragon scale as part of whatever their ultimate scheme is.

Meanwhile, in Middleborough, Heath Leach sits in a jail cell facing the town center, watching the glockenspiel on St. Yessid's in the Woods act out its little scene every hour on the hour. The baron has been busy for the past week, and he's had to wait on his trial for murder.

In Maidensbridge, Deputy Tucker Gallaway arrives at the front door of Constable Ward Bridger's home as a group of residents scatter, panicked looks on their faces. Emmerson Grant trails him, having seen the nervous looks on villagers' faces while scraping the steps of the chapel clean.

The constable's gaze takes in them both as they arrive and he wastes no time getting to the point: "Two children have gone missing in the woods. We need to find them before dark."

"Whose children?" Tucker asks, instantly all business. "Which part of the woods, and who was the last to see them?"

"It's the Kramer twins, Pentagruel and Rutiger, the children of Lars by his first wife," the constable says. Emmerson and Tucker know them: A pair of tow-headed 7 year olds. "Their stepmother says they were playing in the orchard. When she came looking for them to give them lunch, she just found their toys, but no sign of the children. I'm going to sit down with the parents and see if they might know anything. I need you, Tucker, to go look around the orchard. Emmerson, your help would be appreciated as well."

"Any detail would help us, no matter how trivial. Is there a glade, an underbrush or even a cave where they like to play?" Emmerson asks. The child of a large family, he's familiar with this sort of problem.

"I don't know; that's why I'm going to talk to their father. But while I'm there, I need others looking for them. If they've just gotten stuck up a tree, I don't want to waste time by not looking for them. I'll meet you at the orchard shortly."

"Well, into the woods with us, then," Tucker says, snapping off a salute to the constable, and heads for the door. He knocks one knuckle against Emmerson's armor. "Come on, Clanky. If nothing else, those kids will know someone's out looking for them. If they're lost, then can just move toward the sound."

"Either that or a few bars of 'Onward, Onward, Brave Soldiers.' Just kidding."

"I'll say. We want to get the kids close to us, not run for the Kem border."

"Hey, it's not my fault Bufer hasn't taught us the 'Pantsing of Mithra.'"

Before heading to the orchard, the pair stops by Emmerson's quarters and pick up his backpack and lantern, preparing for anything.

Concerned parents and older children mill around the orchard, and when they spot Tucker, they swarm him, everyone speaking at once:

"... snatched by kobolds!"

"A huge wolf, the size of a pony, I tell ya!"

"... stepmother of theirs, never trusted her ..."

"They always were talking about going up to Green Mountain ..."

"Deputy Gallaway, what are you going to do about it?"