Hewligan's Rise of the Runelords: The Skinsaw Murders

[hewligan]

Farmer Grump and Farmer Grayst

There was little point in pushing things further. You may all be young, but you have faced many dangers in life and none of them have been as hard to face as the raw anguish and loss of Ven Vinder. You arranged, with Sheriff Hemlock, for the broken man to return home, and then you yourselves went to the Hagfish for a reunion, of sorts.

It had been months since you had last had a proper chance to talk. In fact, the events of the Catacombs and Thistletop had never really been marked by a proper celebration, and now that you were together again, nobody really felt like celebrating. Too many corpses, too much misery. Instead you fell into a hushed conversation, letting the cold ale relax you.

Food, some heavily spiced fish stew with noodles - Ameiko always surprises with her strange cuisine - led to more beers. The night was punctuated by people coming over to greet you, old friends, new friends, regulars. But the bulk of the night was spent discussing the murders. Jokad was convinced that an undead entity was responsible. The stench, the flecks of flesh and bone, the bare footprints, the horrific state of the corpses ... it was clear in his mind, and in truth it did fit the picture well.

But the leads were few, and the conversations folded back upon itself time and time again. Eventually it was time to call it a night. Jovik found the solitude of his bed difficult after so many nights with Shalelu.

It was just as day was leaving on the following day that Sheriff Hemlock sent out the call.

There has been another one, but this time we have a survivor.

At once you all made haste to his small office.

 

[frostrune]

Ven collects himself. "I am sorry father. My girl meant the world to me. I want the bastard caught. I am glad she got him. She had spirit. I don't know why she was with that scum. HE WAS SCUM. A good job, and a hard worker, but a crook and playboy. Gullible, I guess. She saw the good in people too easily.

I don't know what to say. I want to go home. I want to bury my head in a pillow and never see the light of another day. She didn't have enemies. She was only 18. She had friends, and suitors, and that was it. Me, well, I have some enemies. I am a successful merchant. I work honestly. That, believe it or not, creates you more enemies than you could imagine. But none that would kill my daughter."

He goes silent for a moment.

"If you ... WHEN you find him, make him hurt. Make him hurt REAL BAD!"

Jokad now steps forward so that Ven can see him clearly. His face is a stone cold mask.

"We'll find her killer and they WILL pay. I swear on the bones of my ancestors."

 

[Rhun]

The young priest places a hand on the merchant's shoulder, and stares into his eyes. "We will find him, Ven. You have my word." With a nod, Danth turns to leave the cell.

Sense motive, just to see if Ven is telling the truth.
Sense Motive: 23


Why I am I wasting all these natural 20s where I probably don't need them? Ugh!

 

[Rhun]

Danth wastes no time in leading the others to the Sheriff's office. "What has happened, Sherriff? Another murder?"

 

[hewligan]

Sense motive, just to see if Ven is telling the truth.
Sense Motive: 23


Why I am I wasting all these natural 20s where I probably don't need them? Ugh!

You are certain, absolutely certain, that the man is innocent, and in real distress.

And the answer to your second question is "because InvisibleCastle hates us all!"

 

[hewligan]

Farmer Grump and Farmer Grayst, In Person

Sheriff Hemlock is hanging back near the far wall of the room, his bulk leaning uncomfortably as if trying to put further distance between himself and the two men who are hunched, one kneeling, one almost lying, on the floor in the centre of the room.

As Hemlock sees you all enter, he relaxes somewhat from his rigid pose, and offers a brief nod.

"Sorry to call you so abruptly, but we have a report, and a survivor!" he puts a lot of emphasis on the last word.

The man kneeling rises nervously. He is a simple farmer, old, but still strong. He plucks nervously at his white beard, at the rim of his battered hat, at the hem of his coat. He flicks his gaze between you all and Sheriff Hemlock.

At his feet lies another man, moaning a little, as if in a light fever. His skin is pale and looks gangrenous, hair wild and eyes milky white.

"Tell them what you told me, Grump!"" states Hemlock.

Farmer Grump breaks into nervous babbling, frantically chanting a Varisian nursery rhyme about walking scarecrows.

Mumble Mumble Scarecrow,
Alone in the maize.
Sleeping in the daytime,
A stitched man he stays.
But when the moon she rises,
Up Mumble gets.
He shakes his hands at first
And moves his feet the next.
And when the dog is snoring,
And when you’re fast asleep,
Mumble Mumble Scarecrow
Will find you good to eat.

"Calm yourself down man, and tell them what you told me!" Hemlock commands, his voice loud and firm. The farmer steadies himself, returning to his fidgeting ways, and, with his eyes darting around the room from shadow to shadow, starts to speak.

He tells a short but harrowing story, speaking of how the southern farmlands have become plagued by foul walking scarecrows that stalk the night. All the farmers knew that the problems were coming from the old Hambley place—things “just ain’t been right there for a few days now”—but when a group of locals paid the Hambley farm a visit yesterday evening, they were attacked by folk that looked like corpses but fed like starving
animals.

"The lot of them folks, penny pinchers, mean as thistles, but our folk non-the-less, those Hambleys. It was them, you know. Like corpses, only they moved. And they cames at us real good. We had pitchforks you know, and strong lads, like Grayst here, and Rothkin, and Old Mile's son, Wisden, and we skewered them, and threw our torches at them. But they just ripped us to shreds. They was eating us. EATING US!"

The old farmer has worked himself into a horrendous lather, shaking, and pausing as if to gasp for breath. For the first time he stares straight into the eyes of Kael as he shrieks out "They even ate the dogs!"

Hemlock steps in as the man, shaking, lowers himself back to his knees, weeping quietly to himself. Hemlock explains that his men picked up Grump as he ran into town screaming about walking scarecrows, half dragging the stumbling younger Grayst, clearly injured, in his wake.

Hemlock moves over to you all, lowering his voice so that he cannot be overheard.

""He has been drinking. We can only hope that the booze has perhaps muddied his mind somewhat. But in truth, my fear is that the moonshine he has clearly attacked may have actually dulled him memories of the grim fate that has been visited upon the Hambleys. Clearly we need to get some people out there to that farm to check, and clearly, unless he really is just a mad old drunk, it is going to be dangerous!

And then we have Grayst. He is sick. I have called the physician, but perhaps you could take a look. Your magic may be able to heal him. He was one of the lads who went with Grump to check out the Hambleys' place. The lad has a pretty badly torn up shoulder ... and sweating like a freak. I think he has a fever. Perhaps something poisonous in the wound?"

Sheriff Hemlock is looking at Danth as he says this last part.

As you all move over closer to the injured young man, Farmer Grump picks himself up and moves to one side to give you room. The young farmer is muttering to himself. As you drawn near you hear snatched words. "razors", "too many teeth", "the skinsaw man is coming", and "cuts and hurts and cuts and hurts". His hands are tightly balled, the knuckles almost pure white. Dirty blood, dried and wet mixed together, runs from these clenched fists. As you all approach he suddenly falls silent, stops shaking, and slowly swivels round to observe you.

His eyes ... his eyes are darting, flicking, manic, scanning from face to face. Then ....... then he sees Jokad.

He coughs, as if clearing dead mud from his throat. His gaze burns into the young Shoanti as his course voice, like dried leaves, scratches out.

"He said. He said you would visit me. His Lordship. The one that unmade me said so. He has a place for you. A precious place. I’m so jealous. He has a message for you. He made me remember it. I hope I haven’t forgotten. The master wouldn’t approve if I forgot. Let me see… let… me… see…

He said you should come to the Misgivings soon, to meet the Pack, for they have something wonderful to show you."

His message delivered, he offers the most vile smile, his tongue briefly lipping his lips, too long, too pointed. And then he collapses flat again as if the effort to half raise himself has drained all of the energy from his body.

He issues a low moan. Suddenly his moan rises to a shriek, and as he lurches to his feet, his hands unclench and stretch towards Jokad. His nails are long and bloodied, his fingers like bones.

"I will take you too him!" he shrieks, as he throws himself into the attack against Jokad.

OOC: You know what to do!

 

[frostrune]

His message delivered, he offers the most vile smile, his tongue briefly lipping his lips, too long, too pointed. And then he collapses flat again as if the effort to half raise himself has drained all of the energy from his body.

He issues a low moan. Suddenly his moan rises to a shriek, and as he lurches to his feet, his hands unclench and stretch towards Jokad. His nails are long and bloodied, his fingers like bones.

"I will take you too him!" he shrieks, as he throws himself into the attack against Jokad.

"LIKE HELL YOU WILL!!!"

Jokad lashes out so quickly you scarely have time to register it landing a thunderous punch to the possessed man's face.


OOC:
INIT 22, Hit AC 27 (possible crit), for 4 dmg
Roll Lookup

Hit AC 26... confirmed crit!! Another 4 dmg
Roll Lookup

 

[Rhun]

Danth takes a step back, even as his hand goes to the ornate symbol of Sarenae about his throat. Despiie his suspicions, the cleric didn't know for certain if the foe they now faced was undead, but there was a quick way to find out. "Sarenae, bless us with your Light, and burn this corruption with your holy flames!"


AC 19, HP 31/31

Initiative: 16

Greater Turn Undead (Destroys undead that would normally be turned)
Turning Check: 14, for Max Hit Dice: 5
Turning Damage: 14

 

[Fenris]

OOC: Hew check the OOC thread.

Jovik was across the room and had been half-heartedly listening, he was back in the cold forests up north, in a warm bed with someone.

He had been about to utter a wisecrack to Jokad's expense about being wanted and it not being the one he wanted when the attack came and cuaght him off guard. Jovik grabs out Gulls' Wing and hurls it at the man.
[sblock]
Joivk Init (1d20+3=8)

attack
Joivk attack (1d20+6=18, 1d4+2=4)
[/sblock]

 

[hewligan]

Grayst, Round 1

OOC: Init oder - Jokad (22), Danth (16), Jovik (8), Grayst (0), Kael (no roll)

Jokad sees the man's movement before it even happened. Saw the flinching in his neck muscles, the tensing of his calves. He saw it, and had his fist bunched and thrust perfectly into the face of the young farmer as he rose. There was a crack, and Jokad felt the pain in his knuckle. Good pain. Pain that told him that he had broken something in the man's face.

OOC: -8hp to Grayst due to the slamdunker from Jokad

Grayst recoils somewhat, shaking his head with confusion. His jaw hangs loosely, clearly broken. Danth steps forward, and thrusts his holy symbol forward, calling out for the aid of Sarenae.

Grayst laughs. "Hollow gods. Empty gods. Only the Skinsaw is real!" He seems untouched by the words of the priest.

When, from out of nowhere, the swift blade of Jovik embeds itself in his shoulder, he barely grunts, fully focused once more on Jokad.

OOC: -12 hp in total to Grayst

"I'm coming!" he whispers, in a teasing voice, made slurred by his broken jaw, and probing tongue

He grabs Jokad by the shoulders. There is a great strength to him, the strength of madness. He lunges forward, as if to sink his teeth into Jokad, before realizing that his jaw is broken, and hissing, his long tongue sliding against the flesh of Jokad's cheeck, steps back to try and claw at the barbarian. By then, though, his attack is easy for the Shoanti to block.

OOC: He missed.

Round 2 - initiatives and actions please. Grayst is standing, but hurt.