[Lakelands] Six For Adventure

[Ulorian - Agent of Chaos]

OOC: 2 thumbs up to a summarisation of interaction with the villagers and meeting up with Selanil.

 

[Raven Crowking]

OOC: 2 thumbs up to a summarisation of interaction with the villagers and meeting up with Selanil.

“In a moment,” Brother Hengist said to Horsom. “When I have helped Dain secure the equipment in the cart I will be more than happy to accompany you. Indeed, the air in here seems oppressive.”

Not long after, Brother Hengist joined those who were going to speak to the villagers: Horsom, Maldordo, and Fellan. The other two laymen sent by the Archdeacon in Selby stay with the cart and horses. Dain wanted to do some poking about the Church here. Kregor seemed involved in some form of prayer or deep introspection. Glom, taking Amalric’s hint, simply chose not to complicate things with his appearance.

It took longer than the four had hoped to get information from the villagers. For one thing, many of the villagers wished to hear news of events in Selby or Long Archer, and many stories had to be repeated over and over again before they were satisfied. While many in Kell’s Reach were concerned about the creature attacking their neighbors and flocks, it was impossible to find a single person who was directly affected. Clearly, though the creature laired nearby, it went far afield to hunt.

Those who said they had seen it, including Goodwife Horner, said that they had seen it either near dawn or dusk. Goodwife Horner confirmed that she had seen it pulling something into the Dwarfie Run, an old barrow mound near the outskirts of the village. Most witnesses agreed that its hide was a deep red, like the color of brick or dried blood, though some said it was darker. Most agreed that it flew on bat-like wings, though some thought it “leaped” a great distance. One farmer was able to produce three six-inch-long, sharp spikes made of something akin to bone or fingernails.

“I’ve never seen a beastie with teeth like that, son,” the farmer said. “Look more like some sort of claws, but they’re too straight, see? And you can see where they’re loose at the end, like teeth in a socket.”

There were a few villagers who simply did not want to answer questions, although this was not always obvious at first. Some feared the creature’s wrath if it was attacked but not vanquished – those ones were vocal enough. Others had motives which were harder to read. The Miller, for instance, with his sturdy stone house, seemed to think that the misfortunes of others around Kell’s Reach were to the village’s general benefit. Of course, he was too clever a man to say something like that outright, but it was the impression he gave.

There were a few graves of small children, and a few people who showed signs that the tallowbone outbreak had not been confined to Selby-by-the-Water alone.

They were just headed back to the Church, perhaps an hour before the sun would dip below the horizon, when they saw someone approaching them on the path. Someones rather…an elf bearing a spear and a small girl dressed in tattered clothing.

While this was going on, Dain tried to discreetly poke about the Church. For an hour at least, Amalric made this difficult by engaging the dwarf in painful conversations that, regardless of what they started to be about, always turned to painful death, the manticore’s being a demon, or the Archdeacon playing them all for fools. At last, though, Amalric went into his private rooms for a nap, and Dain was left to examine the unkempt church more freely. A sorrier excuse for a church he had never been in. Although the manticore might have driven attendance up, little had been done to make the place more welcoming. It was unswept, undusted, and generally filthy. While the pews were mostly clean, for they were perhaps sat upon often enough, they were the only things that were.

When Dain examined the stone alter, he half expected to discover a secret way beneath, or signs of human blood spilt upon it – but neither was the case. Eventually, of course, he realized that Amalric was no longer napping, and no longer in his room. Where the priest had gone, however, he couldn't say. Both Glom and Kregor could confirm, at least, that Amalric had not come out the front way. It seemed that he had crawled out of his window...a glassless affair secured from within by wooden shutters...and left the area of the Church completely.

 

[Ulorian - Agent of Chaos]

"I'd expected to leave these villagers with jaws aching from all the information they were to ply us with, but instead it's the other way around.", muttered Horsom. "I can't believe how many times today I've told the tale of Fellan Magrab Against the Dire Bear of Gormond's Hollow. 'Preying on Long Archer's herds, it was. Brought it down with his dagger, he did. The townspeople rejoiced, one and all.' Argh! I'll be hearing that in my sleep.", Horsom exclaimed playfully.

Fellan laughed, a rarer occurrence than a Long Archer Moss turning down a cold pint. "That happened before you were born, stripling. The passage of time has exaggerated some of the events it seems. The Moss's have always had the ability to spin a good yarn."

"Consider it more like the story improving in vintage.", Horsom rejoined, chuckling. "It seemed to lend heart to these folks that such a mighty hunter was here to defend them though.", he added in a more serious tone. A short silence followed, which Horsom used to consider the information they had gathered that afternoon. It seemed that no attacks had occurred in the village itself, despite its proximity to the lair of the beast. What was preventing the manticore from preying on Kell's Reach? Was there something here that it feared? Then why would it lair so close by? Was someone here in league with it? The miller seemed to know more than he was letting on. And Amalric's behaviour was a little strange, although the amount of information he volunteered seemed to indicate that he wasn't an ally of this creature. Why tell the hunters that it was a demon? Unless it was to scare them away. But why suggest speaking to the villagers? There was definitely more to this situation than met the eye.

He paused at the unusual scene unfolding on the path ahead of them. An elf bearing an ancient-looking spear, horribly disfigured, and a young human girl dressed in rags which could not possibly be keeping her warm on this early spring evening. "Uh.. hello. If you're looking for shelter, I'm sure Brother Amalric at the church here will offer his hospitality." Horsom spoke to the young girl. "You must be freezing, child. Let me lend you my cloak."

Edit: typo
Edit2: added musings about the information gathered in the village

 

[Samuel Leming]

Maldordo certainly intends to speak to some of the inhabitants of the area, but it's not the humans he was thinking of questioning. After warning the rest of the group, Maldordo finds a place he's sure no local villager can see him and assumes his natural cat form instead of following allong to talk to village folk. He then proceeds to pad around the village looking for any intelligent animal life that can speak the languages of cats, dogs or rodents. If he has time, Maldordo will head towards the outskirts of the village in the direction of the 'Dwarfie Run' and expand his search for any additional forms of fey that may be in the area.

OOC: I implied that this would be my course of action in my last post.

 

[wolfheart]

Dain is outraged at the condition of the church. His blood boiling, he goes to find Amalric. When he discovers that the priest is gone, the anger turns to suscpision(?).

Dain figures that since Amalric is gone, this would be a good time to have a look at his room. Dain walks in and snoops around, careful to put things back as he found them, and every now and then calling out Amalric's name. As though he had just arrived and was looking for the priest.

Dain finds Amalric's behaviour startling, and begins to wonder if the priest is not somehow involved with the manticore. He makes up his mind that after the manticore is dealt with, he is going to have a little talk to Amalric about the duties of the priesthood, and secretly he hopes that fists may be needed to drive home the point.

 

[Raven Crowking]

Maldordo certainly intends to speak to some of the inhabitants of the area, but it's not the humans he was thinking of questioning. After warning the rest of the group, Maldordo finds a place he's sure no local villager can see him and assumes his natural cat form instead of following allong to talk to village folk. He then proceeds to pad around the village looking for any intelligent animal life that can speak the languages of cats, dogs or rodents. If he has time, Maldordo will head towards the outskirts of the village in the direction of the 'Dwarfie Run' and expand his search for any additional forms of fey that may be in the area.

OOC: I implied that this would be my course of action in my last post.

Luckily, Maldordo spoke the Rodent Tongue, for it was among the rats in the mill that he discovered something of interest. There were signs that some small fey lived in the place, poisoning the rats as much as possible, and perhaps helping with some of the mill's work. Examining the signs of small naked feet along the rafters, he chanced to overhear two rats talking by the empty grain hamper below.

"'Eh, Norby," said the first rat. Glancing downward, Maldordo could see that the rat was quite large. "Anything to scrounge this way?"

"A few grains," said a deeper voice, as an even larger rat emerged from the shadows. "A few grains, and no more, my pet. And those are mouldy beside. No more juicy tidbits here. We'll have to wait in the fields for harvest, my dear, because there's naught for the mill to grind."

"I do wish it was winter still, Norby. Such a good bit of feasting when the weather was cold!"

"Yes, my pet, yes. But it's warm enough now, so there won't be any well-cooked brats to nibble on any time soon. Come. Let's try the miller's cellars. I'll sharpen my teeth on his wine kegs, if nothing else, and then let's you and me have a wee nip of the vineyard."

With that, the two rats slunk away along the shadows.

 

[Raven Crowking]

Dain is outraged at the condition of the church. His blood boiling, he goes to find Amalric. When he discovers that the priest is gone, the anger turns to suscpision(?).

Dain figures that since Amalric is gone, this would be a good time to have a look at his room. Dain walks in and snoops around, careful to put things back as he found them, and every now and then calling out Amalric's name. As though he had just arrived and was looking for the priest.

Like the rest of the church, Amalric's chambers were unclean. If the Seven Good Gods were ever welcome in this place, it had not been recently. There was once an image of Uarthos carved over the priest's bed, but the god of sleep had been removed to a shelf, where his face was turned from the room. Along the edge of one wall, Dain found Amalric's wooden prayer beads, worn where they had been fingered once, but now discarded.

 

[Raven Crowking]

He paused at the unusual scene unfolding on the path ahead of them. An elf bearing an ancient-looking spear, horribly disfigured, and a young human girl dressed in rags which could not possibly be keeping her warm on this early spring evening.[/COLOR] "Uh.. hello. If you're looking for shelter, I'm sure Brother Amalric at the church here will offer his hospitality." Horsom spoke to the young girl. "You must be freezing, child. Let me lend you my cloak."

"My thanks, kind stranger," the girl said. She took the cloak, then curtsied prettily. Horsom could tell that this one would grow to become a beauty. "You may call me Tattercoats. And this" ...she indicated the badly scarred elf... "is my Shining Friend, a very wise and moderate elf, and a great Champion besides. As for me, I must go back from whence I came, or Mother will be full wroth."

The girl turned to the elf. "These good folk travel the same road as you, for now. I will see you anon, when Mother's favor is soaked in the blood of your foe." She smiled at Horsom. "I shall take your cloak, then, good man, though I have naught but acorns to give you in return." She offered him three acorns. "Fare thee well! May you accomplish that task to which your minds are bent!"

The girl turned, and, skipping with Horsom's cloak -- much too large for her frame -- spreading out like wings around her shoulders, she went back into the west.

 

[Ulorian - Agent of Chaos]

Horsom stared after Tattercoats as she wandered off into the late afternoon sun, a bemused smile on his lips. He glanced down briefly at the acorns nestled in his callused hand and stirred them with a finger, before slipping them into his satchel. "A strange end to a strange day.", he murmured.

"You keep interesting company, Shining Friend", said Fellan to the elf. He turned to Maldordo, Hengist, and Horsom. "The fey have bequeathed to us a Champion to aid us on our errand, it would appear."

 

[Raven Crowking]

"What makes you believe that girl is fey?" Brother Hengist asked.

"Experience."

"I see." Brother Hengist frowned slightly, as if bothered by something abstract. He turned to the elf. "Shall we call you Shining Friend? Or have you a more conventional name?"