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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3317726" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>Tucker finishes the story just as the two reach The Cat & The Fiddle.</p><p></p><p>"And thus," Tucker concludes, "His fear of hay. Simple."</p><p></p><p>"Amazing," Emmerson breathes, shaking his head in disbelief. The pair step inside. "Good morning, folks.</p><p></p><p>"Constable," he bows his head slightly in salute, "I'm afraid Renraw Kem is nowhere to be found."</p><p></p><p>"What? He told me he'd be recuperating today!" Tock squeaks, whipping his head around in shock.</p><p></p><p>The constable gives Tock a bland, skeptical look.</p><p></p><p>"Come in, gentlemen. These folks were just waiting for you to arrive to explain all about the mirrors you found in the barrow." He turns toward the stairway. "LEACH! GET DOWN HERE, BOY!"</p><p></p><p>Having been kicked out of Ella's room, Katadid is immersed in the task of touching each handle of the doors on the second floor of The Cat & The Fiddle when the constable bellows up the stairs after him. Jana Forman sticks her head up the stairs a moment later, jerking her head angrily down at the common room. Katadid blinks at her and races down the stairs, coming up short when he sees the mass of people waiting for him below.</p><p></p><p>"Did ... was ... you or I?" he asks, his mouth opening and closing like a trout in the bottom of a rowboat.</p><p></p><p>Tock is immediately angry.</p><p></p><p>"Why is my cousin here? He's done nothing, gods damn it! Why is he here?"</p><p></p><p>Katadid flinches, and runs one hand through his thinning hair while the other taps against the banister in patterns of five. The constable sighs, his body language suggesting that, even though it's not yet even 9 a.m., it's already been a very long day.</p><p></p><p>"Leach, come here and read this scroll, if you can."</p><p></p><p>Katadid taps five more times and slides his way past Jana, his eyes on the piece of parchment in the gnome's hand. Never taking his eyes off the paper, he twists his way past the dwarf at the table, between the deputy and paladin, takes a long step over the ranger's knee and reaches over to take the parchment from the gnome, navigating his way past the bodies seemingly without looking.</p><p></p><p>"Ella was simply having some feminine troubles. Father mixed some St. Ecaterina's Root and kinksberry bark. Should do the trick." His eyes shine as he scans the parchment hungrily.</p><p></p><p>"Come on, nerd," Tock says, "And tell the people what I can already read."</p><p></p><p>"What you can read? Ugh!" Grunting in frustration, Bufer leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, and tucks his chin into his chest, muttering just loudly enough in Gnomish for the others to hear him. "<em>I think we might as well be up front with him. No doubt the paladin and the deputy have already told them what they know, or will soon at any rate. Might as well look 'neighborly' and play along, I figure, at least initially. Any objections?</em>"</p><p></p><p>"<em>Sounds fine to me, I suppose,</em>" Tock replies. "<em>The local rats will sell us out anyway. May as well find a way to get something out of this, even if it means giving something else to this ass. Sorry about not translating this document, but I feared retribution from Constable Dickweed. Rest assured it's not of much interest to anyone that can understand me now.</em>"</p><p></p><p>Bufer looks sharply up at Tock, his eyes flaring. Leaning forward, he slams both palms on the table and shouts at him angrily in Gnomish.</p><p></p><p>"<em>No hard feelings! Besides, all may not be lost, yet! There may yet be an opportunity to keep the mirrors out of the constable's hands and make a tidy profit, besides! Play along for now, and I'll fill you in when we can talk more freely!</em>"</p><p></p><p>As he shouts the last word, Bufer makes an exceedingly rude gesture at the bard, and flops back into his seat, glaring at him.</p><p></p><p>"Easy now, folks," Emmerson says soothingly. "No need to get all bent out of shape."</p><p></p><p>"You wouldn't say that if you'd understood what he just called your sister," Bufer mutters.</p><p></p><p>"They are just words, friend Bufer. I give them no power to harm me or mine," he smiles.</p><p></p><p>"I didn't mean no offense," Tock shrugs. "You've lived with her."</p><p></p><p>Bufer rolls his eyes and mutters in Gnomish again, almost under his breath.</p><p></p><p>"<em>Tosh? Hazel? Does this sound amenable to you? Reckless and the dwarf will take some convincing, I reckon, but we can always fill them in later.</em>"</p><p></p><p>Katadid's hand stops twirling the tube and sets it on one of the tables. He looks up suddenly and turns toward the northern wall of the inn, his eyes narrowing.</p><p></p><p>"Seventy-nine. Plus one. Perhaps."</p><p></p><p>Katadid pushes his way past the crowd toward the entrance. He exits out into the bright winter morning and makes his way to the northern wall of the building. He speaks over his shoulder to those following as he begins taking measured paces toward the cemetery.</p><p></p><p>"Bring a shovel," he says.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 3317726, member: 11760"] Tucker finishes the story just as the two reach The Cat & The Fiddle. "And thus," Tucker concludes, "His fear of hay. Simple." "Amazing," Emmerson breathes, shaking his head in disbelief. The pair step inside. "Good morning, folks. "Constable," he bows his head slightly in salute, "I'm afraid Renraw Kem is nowhere to be found." "What? He told me he'd be recuperating today!" Tock squeaks, whipping his head around in shock. The constable gives Tock a bland, skeptical look. "Come in, gentlemen. These folks were just waiting for you to arrive to explain all about the mirrors you found in the barrow." He turns toward the stairway. "LEACH! GET DOWN HERE, BOY!" Having been kicked out of Ella's room, Katadid is immersed in the task of touching each handle of the doors on the second floor of The Cat & The Fiddle when the constable bellows up the stairs after him. Jana Forman sticks her head up the stairs a moment later, jerking her head angrily down at the common room. Katadid blinks at her and races down the stairs, coming up short when he sees the mass of people waiting for him below. "Did ... was ... you or I?" he asks, his mouth opening and closing like a trout in the bottom of a rowboat. Tock is immediately angry. "Why is my cousin here? He's done nothing, gods damn it! Why is he here?" Katadid flinches, and runs one hand through his thinning hair while the other taps against the banister in patterns of five. The constable sighs, his body language suggesting that, even though it's not yet even 9 a.m., it's already been a very long day. "Leach, come here and read this scroll, if you can." Katadid taps five more times and slides his way past Jana, his eyes on the piece of parchment in the gnome's hand. Never taking his eyes off the paper, he twists his way past the dwarf at the table, between the deputy and paladin, takes a long step over the ranger's knee and reaches over to take the parchment from the gnome, navigating his way past the bodies seemingly without looking. "Ella was simply having some feminine troubles. Father mixed some St. Ecaterina's Root and kinksberry bark. Should do the trick." His eyes shine as he scans the parchment hungrily. "Come on, nerd," Tock says, "And tell the people what I can already read." "What you can read? Ugh!" Grunting in frustration, Bufer leans back in his chair, crossing his arms, and tucks his chin into his chest, muttering just loudly enough in Gnomish for the others to hear him. "[i]I think we might as well be up front with him. No doubt the paladin and the deputy have already told them what they know, or will soon at any rate. Might as well look 'neighborly' and play along, I figure, at least initially. Any objections?[/i]" "[i]Sounds fine to me, I suppose,[/i]" Tock replies. "[i]The local rats will sell us out anyway. May as well find a way to get something out of this, even if it means giving something else to this ass. Sorry about not translating this document, but I feared retribution from Constable Dickweed. Rest assured it's not of much interest to anyone that can understand me now.[/i]" Bufer looks sharply up at Tock, his eyes flaring. Leaning forward, he slams both palms on the table and shouts at him angrily in Gnomish. "[i]No hard feelings! Besides, all may not be lost, yet! There may yet be an opportunity to keep the mirrors out of the constable's hands and make a tidy profit, besides! Play along for now, and I'll fill you in when we can talk more freely![/i]" As he shouts the last word, Bufer makes an exceedingly rude gesture at the bard, and flops back into his seat, glaring at him. "Easy now, folks," Emmerson says soothingly. "No need to get all bent out of shape." "You wouldn't say that if you'd understood what he just called your sister," Bufer mutters. "They are just words, friend Bufer. I give them no power to harm me or mine," he smiles. "I didn't mean no offense," Tock shrugs. "You've lived with her." Bufer rolls his eyes and mutters in Gnomish again, almost under his breath. "[i]Tosh? Hazel? Does this sound amenable to you? Reckless and the dwarf will take some convincing, I reckon, but we can always fill them in later.[/i]" Katadid's hand stops twirling the tube and sets it on one of the tables. He looks up suddenly and turns toward the northern wall of the inn, his eyes narrowing. "Seventy-nine. Plus one. Perhaps." Katadid pushes his way past the crowd toward the entrance. He exits out into the bright winter morning and makes his way to the northern wall of the building. He speaks over his shoulder to those following as he begins taking measured paces toward the cemetery. "Bring a shovel," he says. [/QUOTE]
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