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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 3332507" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>Hazel leads the cleric into the cairn, staying toward the wall to avoid scuffing any marks in the dust, but she doesn't hold out much hope of finding useful tracks: The cairn's a regular thoroughfare, what with kobolds and Fibber and the party and the baron's men collecting the mirrors.</p><p></p><p>She walks at half-speed, moving as silently as she's able, until she reaches the first set of alcoves. She keeps a firm grip on her battleaxe as a precaution, but her nerves are twanging like Tock's banjo.</p><p></p><p>As Bufer and Hazel move into the cairn, the gnome recognizes immediately that one of the reasons he had wanted to come back was missing: At the edge of his low-light vision, it's clear that the kobolds' bodies are gone.</p><p></p><p>"Garl's golden nuggets," Bufer hisses under his breath. He grabs Hazel's arm, drawing her to a halt, then holds up one finger to her as he strains his hearing, listening for any indication of movement.</p><p></p><p>Unsure why they've stopped, Hazel nonetheless heeds Bufer's warning, listening as well, but as the silence stretches, she opens her mouth to whisper to the cleric. Bufer shakes his head sharply as Hazel begins to whisper, and motions for Hazel to lean towards him.</p><p></p><p>"The corpses are gone," he explains, in a barely-audible whisper. "There may be kobolds afoot. Shhh!"</p><p></p><p>That said, he closes his eyes and listens intently for the telltale sound of clawtips clicking against stone. After a moment, Hazel drops to one knee beside him and begins whispering in fits and starts, her voice shaking slightly.</p><p></p><p>"So, these holy relics the thieves have taken, I figure it's not likely you'd care much about their religious significance, seeing as how your prayers aren't meant for Lothian's ears." She stares at the floor as she talks, the words tumbling out in a rush. "You an' Tosh are the only gnomes I know more than in passing, an' y'all are both right good sneaks. But I'm askin' ya for truth now: Did y'all tell anyone about today's meeting? About the note, an' the relics an' all?"</p><p></p><p>Bufer tears himself away from straining his ears for sounds of kobolds in the barrow and looks up at her with his pale blue eyes.</p><p></p><p>"Master Barennackle," he says in a barely audible whisper. "I told him, just as I tell him everything ... well, most everything. Though I doubt he cared overmuch: We don't, as you say, spare much thought for Lothian or his holy trinkets. He gave me leave to accompany you an' Kat, but I expect he considers it an affair for you big'uns, not really our concern. He might have mentioned it to Lord Rubik in passing, but so far as I know, it ain't gone beyond that."</p><p></p><p>"I think it has. Gone beyond that, I mean." Hazel reaches deep into her cloak and pulls out the crumpled sheet of paper, nervously smoothing it before tilting it for Bufer to read. "The noise near the entrance wasn't any folks inside the cairn, it was the wind whippin' this about in the undergrowth. Now, maybe I'm making a mistake, trusting you, maybe not, but I figure if there is some kind of spy running about your house, you need to know about it."</p><p></p><p>Bufer stares at the note in Hazel's hand in open-mouthed shock, looks up at her, then back down at the note. After a moment, all thought of caution plainly forgotten, he lets out a steady stream of gnomish invective which makes Hazel blush to the heels of her boots.</p><p></p><p>"Hazel, you have my word, as a gnome of the cloth, and as your friend, that I knew absolutely nothing about this!" He gestures uselessly at the note with his free hand. "I appreciate you've no reason to take that word. Like you said, both Tosh and I have demonstrated a certain propensity for, well, being gnomes, but I'm asking you to believe me. Of all who've partook of this damned fool adventure, you're the only one who I trust implicitly, save Tosh."</p><p></p><p>"The note says there's a sacrifice, but it doesn't say whether the gnome is bringing the sacrifice or is the sacrifice," Hazel says. "What if Tosh overheard something he shouldn't? Goblin Falls is a ways off for a backwoods Bridger like me. My dad's going to have a fit."</p><p></p><p>"It's not time to panic yet, lass. We've got time to decide what to do next. As it is, I think I'm going to have to present this to Master Barennackle and Lord Rubik, unless you object. I believe I can trust 'em -- they're both old friends of my pa -- and if we've got a snitch in the family, they'll want to know."</p><p></p><p>"That's your business -- gnomish business, I mean -- and you'd know better who you can trust than I," Hazel says, tight-lipped. "But if they're the only folks you told before, then maybe you ought to make sure ya don't have eavesdroppers when ya tell 'em, yeah?"</p><p></p><p>Bufer glances at the note in her hand again and shakes his head at it in disbelief.</p><p></p><p>"I'll leave it to you to decide whether or not we tell the others," he says, after a quiet moment. "I'd prefer to keep it between us, at least 'till I've hand a chance to talk with my people, but if it'll make you feel more secure ...</p><p></p><p>"Emmerson's OK, as servants of Lothian go, and hardly anyone takes a word Kat says seriously, anyway. But Kem I trust about as far as I could throw him uphill against the wind with my left arm. Granted, no one puts much stock in what he says, neither, but if he can see a way to profit by this, I reckon he'll take it."</p><p></p><p>"You're spot-on about Kem an' Kat, sure enough," she says, "But Kat'll babble in front o' Tock, and he's right clever. While we might want him along later, he might go haring off to the Falls on his own if he hears about this. And Emmerson, I like him well enough, but you know he'll feel obligated to tell the constable, and then we'll end up sitting on our duffs again while the baron's men have all the fun.</p><p></p><p>"I don't like keeping secrets, Bufer. This meeting's near a week away. If your folk can't turn up anything in four days, I think we should tell the others and see who'd be willing to go."</p><p></p><p>"Now, that said, if there's no bandits or kobolds about, we should probably get a move on and get back to the others," Bufer says. "If you've got the note, there's a good chance this Tiberius ain't seen it yet, which means he might still be on his way. If he does show up, well, maybe this whole expedition weren't for nothing, after all."</p><p></p><p>"Right. Let's check out those missing bodies and get out of here."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, I'd appreciate a quick peek," Bufer says. "Let's get a move on, though. The suspense is like to be killin' the others by now."</p><p></p><p>Outside, Emmerson remains vigilant and Renraw is still at times and at others he fidgets. But Katadid, on the other hand, looks like a cauldron about to boil over. He has already counted the creaks of each branch on the tree in front of him by the time he speaks.</p><p></p><p>"You realize ... the message was in Draconic. If the people being met use that as their primary language then perhaps someone who understands them should walk in to overhear anything," he says, waiting for a response from the others, who seem to be ignoring him. "Just saying ..."</p><p></p><p>He taps out another pattern of five, then reaches over to touch Emmerson's nose. The paladin sighs and brushes the finger away. Katadid fidgets and turns toward Renraw.</p><p></p><p>"So, St. Feldin's," he says, trying out this "small talk" thing his cousin talks about. "Does that gnome still teach Divination there?"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 3332507, member: 11760"] Hazel leads the cleric into the cairn, staying toward the wall to avoid scuffing any marks in the dust, but she doesn't hold out much hope of finding useful tracks: The cairn's a regular thoroughfare, what with kobolds and Fibber and the party and the baron's men collecting the mirrors. She walks at half-speed, moving as silently as she's able, until she reaches the first set of alcoves. She keeps a firm grip on her battleaxe as a precaution, but her nerves are twanging like Tock's banjo. As Bufer and Hazel move into the cairn, the gnome recognizes immediately that one of the reasons he had wanted to come back was missing: At the edge of his low-light vision, it's clear that the kobolds' bodies are gone. "Garl's golden nuggets," Bufer hisses under his breath. He grabs Hazel's arm, drawing her to a halt, then holds up one finger to her as he strains his hearing, listening for any indication of movement. Unsure why they've stopped, Hazel nonetheless heeds Bufer's warning, listening as well, but as the silence stretches, she opens her mouth to whisper to the cleric. Bufer shakes his head sharply as Hazel begins to whisper, and motions for Hazel to lean towards him. "The corpses are gone," he explains, in a barely-audible whisper. "There may be kobolds afoot. Shhh!" That said, he closes his eyes and listens intently for the telltale sound of clawtips clicking against stone. After a moment, Hazel drops to one knee beside him and begins whispering in fits and starts, her voice shaking slightly. "So, these holy relics the thieves have taken, I figure it's not likely you'd care much about their religious significance, seeing as how your prayers aren't meant for Lothian's ears." She stares at the floor as she talks, the words tumbling out in a rush. "You an' Tosh are the only gnomes I know more than in passing, an' y'all are both right good sneaks. But I'm askin' ya for truth now: Did y'all tell anyone about today's meeting? About the note, an' the relics an' all?" Bufer tears himself away from straining his ears for sounds of kobolds in the barrow and looks up at her with his pale blue eyes. "Master Barennackle," he says in a barely audible whisper. "I told him, just as I tell him everything ... well, most everything. Though I doubt he cared overmuch: We don't, as you say, spare much thought for Lothian or his holy trinkets. He gave me leave to accompany you an' Kat, but I expect he considers it an affair for you big'uns, not really our concern. He might have mentioned it to Lord Rubik in passing, but so far as I know, it ain't gone beyond that." "I think it has. Gone beyond that, I mean." Hazel reaches deep into her cloak and pulls out the crumpled sheet of paper, nervously smoothing it before tilting it for Bufer to read. "The noise near the entrance wasn't any folks inside the cairn, it was the wind whippin' this about in the undergrowth. Now, maybe I'm making a mistake, trusting you, maybe not, but I figure if there is some kind of spy running about your house, you need to know about it." Bufer stares at the note in Hazel's hand in open-mouthed shock, looks up at her, then back down at the note. After a moment, all thought of caution plainly forgotten, he lets out a steady stream of gnomish invective which makes Hazel blush to the heels of her boots. "Hazel, you have my word, as a gnome of the cloth, and as your friend, that I knew absolutely nothing about this!" He gestures uselessly at the note with his free hand. "I appreciate you've no reason to take that word. Like you said, both Tosh and I have demonstrated a certain propensity for, well, being gnomes, but I'm asking you to believe me. Of all who've partook of this damned fool adventure, you're the only one who I trust implicitly, save Tosh." "The note says there's a sacrifice, but it doesn't say whether the gnome is bringing the sacrifice or is the sacrifice," Hazel says. "What if Tosh overheard something he shouldn't? Goblin Falls is a ways off for a backwoods Bridger like me. My dad's going to have a fit." "It's not time to panic yet, lass. We've got time to decide what to do next. As it is, I think I'm going to have to present this to Master Barennackle and Lord Rubik, unless you object. I believe I can trust 'em -- they're both old friends of my pa -- and if we've got a snitch in the family, they'll want to know." "That's your business -- gnomish business, I mean -- and you'd know better who you can trust than I," Hazel says, tight-lipped. "But if they're the only folks you told before, then maybe you ought to make sure ya don't have eavesdroppers when ya tell 'em, yeah?" Bufer glances at the note in her hand again and shakes his head at it in disbelief. "I'll leave it to you to decide whether or not we tell the others," he says, after a quiet moment. "I'd prefer to keep it between us, at least 'till I've hand a chance to talk with my people, but if it'll make you feel more secure ... "Emmerson's OK, as servants of Lothian go, and hardly anyone takes a word Kat says seriously, anyway. But Kem I trust about as far as I could throw him uphill against the wind with my left arm. Granted, no one puts much stock in what he says, neither, but if he can see a way to profit by this, I reckon he'll take it." "You're spot-on about Kem an' Kat, sure enough," she says, "But Kat'll babble in front o' Tock, and he's right clever. While we might want him along later, he might go haring off to the Falls on his own if he hears about this. And Emmerson, I like him well enough, but you know he'll feel obligated to tell the constable, and then we'll end up sitting on our duffs again while the baron's men have all the fun. "I don't like keeping secrets, Bufer. This meeting's near a week away. If your folk can't turn up anything in four days, I think we should tell the others and see who'd be willing to go." "Now, that said, if there's no bandits or kobolds about, we should probably get a move on and get back to the others," Bufer says. "If you've got the note, there's a good chance this Tiberius ain't seen it yet, which means he might still be on his way. If he does show up, well, maybe this whole expedition weren't for nothing, after all." "Right. Let's check out those missing bodies and get out of here." "Yeah, I'd appreciate a quick peek," Bufer says. "Let's get a move on, though. The suspense is like to be killin' the others by now." Outside, Emmerson remains vigilant and Renraw is still at times and at others he fidgets. But Katadid, on the other hand, looks like a cauldron about to boil over. He has already counted the creaks of each branch on the tree in front of him by the time he speaks. "You realize ... the message was in Draconic. If the people being met use that as their primary language then perhaps someone who understands them should walk in to overhear anything," he says, waiting for a response from the others, who seem to be ignoring him. "Just saying ..." He taps out another pattern of five, then reaches over to touch Emmerson's nose. The paladin sighs and brushes the finger away. Katadid fidgets and turns toward Renraw. "So, St. Feldin's," he says, trying out this "small talk" thing his cousin talks about. "Does that gnome still teach Divination there?" [/QUOTE]
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