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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 4405654" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p>And so it is, as Hazel and Emus trail Skeeter at a rapid jog through the Tulgey Wood, they all but run down the gnome cleric, wandering in the wood and talking, apparently, to himself.</p><p></p><p>"OH SURE, NOW YE COME RUNNIN' TO FIND ME, HUH?" Bufer explodes. "IF IT WEREN'T FER ... MY INNATE SKILL WITH NATURE ... CRAP ... I'D PROBABLY BE DEAD BY NOW, NO THANKS TO YOU! WHY IN GARL'S NAME DID YE HAVE TO CHOOSE TODAY OF ALL DAYS TO START LISTENING --"</p><p></p><p>He breaks off as he realizes that Emus has charged right past him. Bufer blinks.</p><p></p><p>"All right, what now?" he asks wearily.</p><p></p><p>Hazel face widens into a huge grin, yanks Bufer to his feet with more force than is needed, and embraces him in a fierce hug.</p><p></p><p>"Glad you ain't dead, crazy. What're you doing wandering around out here? Last I, uh, thought, you were visiting the wizard. Never mind, got to run. Kids are missing."</p><p></p><p>She sets off again at a jog.</p><p></p><p>"Wait, what?" Bufer asks as Hazel hurries after Emus and Skeeter. "Hey, hang on! I got some important news we got to dis-- wait, what kids? Hazel? Hazel! Oh, hells."</p><p></p><p>Bufer grimaces and hikes up the hem of his threadbare robe, and starts running to catch up to the trio.</p><p></p><p>"<em>Should have eaten him when I had the chance,</em>" Storm mutters, then glances up at the sky. "<em>This no way to run an afterlife!</em>"</p><p></p><p>After an endless period of fruitless investigation -- the floating shoe floated out of reach time after time before Emmerson was finally able to slip Judgment's tip through its open top and sling it to Tucker on shore -- the paladin's teeth are chattering violently.</p><p></p><p>He hears something move at the edge of the pond and turns to find Hazel, Bufer and Emus looking on him with concern. Skeeter, though, knows what's going on -- a game! -- and dives into the pond, swimming out to greet Emmerson.</p><p></p><p>At the improbable sight of Emmerson dog-paddling in the midst of Moss Pond, Hazel realizes two things: one, he's not out there for his health; and two, if the two children are out there, they're probably dead.</p><p></p><p>"Oh, no." She turns to the deputy with a sense of dread. "Are you sure the tracks end here? Did you search all around the edge?"</p><p></p><p>"We did," Tucker says, "But that doesn't mean anything: We'd be lucky to find water if we fell off the dock. Feel free to take another walk around the shore."</p><p></p><p>Hazel eyes the dripping shoe in Tucker's hands.</p><p></p><p>"Might have lost it getting away from something, maybe ran without thinking bout direction." She lays a hand lightly on his arm as she passes him. "Ya'll did good to track them this far."</p><p></p><p>"Lass, ye think ye could find me a rabbit or a badger or something around here?" Bufer says, tugging on Hazel's sleeve. "If any of them saw the kids, I ought to be able to find out what happened."</p><p></p><p>Hazel begins examining the shore and the foliage near the pond's edge for signs of disturbance - footprints, snagged cloth, broken branches and the like.</p><p></p><p>Emmerson gets out of the water, shaking like a newborn. He can barely control his hands as he reaches for his backpack, hoping he packed an extra set of clothes. He pulls out his cleric vestments. He dries himself the best he can and gets dressed.</p><p></p><p>"Thank Lothian you're h-here, friends. We've t-tried everything. No s-sign of them. Perhaps they followed someone."</p><p></p><p>"The two of ye did the best ye could manage on yer own, beanpole," Bufer says, reassuringly patting his cold and soggy friend on the shoulder. "Lil' Big'un will pick up their trail now, don't ye worry."</p><p></p><p>Feeling useless, Bufer worries the end of his threadbare sleeve as he watches Hazel's search, then glances up at his friends.</p><p></p><p>"How come nobody else from town's here?" he asks. "Why's it always us? I'll tell ye, I really can't wait for the day that Heda gets to sing 'The Heroes of Maidensbridge Took A Much Deserved Day Off, And Someone Else Picked Up The Slack For Once'.</p><p></p><p>"It'd be catchy," Bufer insists.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 4405654, member: 11760"] And so it is, as Hazel and Emus trail Skeeter at a rapid jog through the Tulgey Wood, they all but run down the gnome cleric, wandering in the wood and talking, apparently, to himself. "OH SURE, NOW YE COME RUNNIN' TO FIND ME, HUH?" Bufer explodes. "IF IT WEREN'T FER ... MY INNATE SKILL WITH NATURE ... CRAP ... I'D PROBABLY BE DEAD BY NOW, NO THANKS TO YOU! WHY IN GARL'S NAME DID YE HAVE TO CHOOSE TODAY OF ALL DAYS TO START LISTENING --" He breaks off as he realizes that Emus has charged right past him. Bufer blinks. "All right, what now?" he asks wearily. Hazel face widens into a huge grin, yanks Bufer to his feet with more force than is needed, and embraces him in a fierce hug. "Glad you ain't dead, crazy. What're you doing wandering around out here? Last I, uh, thought, you were visiting the wizard. Never mind, got to run. Kids are missing." She sets off again at a jog. "Wait, what?" Bufer asks as Hazel hurries after Emus and Skeeter. "Hey, hang on! I got some important news we got to dis-- wait, what kids? Hazel? Hazel! Oh, hells." Bufer grimaces and hikes up the hem of his threadbare robe, and starts running to catch up to the trio. "[i]Should have eaten him when I had the chance,[/i]" Storm mutters, then glances up at the sky. "[i]This no way to run an afterlife![/i]" After an endless period of fruitless investigation -- the floating shoe floated out of reach time after time before Emmerson was finally able to slip Judgment's tip through its open top and sling it to Tucker on shore -- the paladin's teeth are chattering violently. He hears something move at the edge of the pond and turns to find Hazel, Bufer and Emus looking on him with concern. Skeeter, though, knows what's going on -- a game! -- and dives into the pond, swimming out to greet Emmerson. At the improbable sight of Emmerson dog-paddling in the midst of Moss Pond, Hazel realizes two things: one, he's not out there for his health; and two, if the two children are out there, they're probably dead. "Oh, no." She turns to the deputy with a sense of dread. "Are you sure the tracks end here? Did you search all around the edge?" "We did," Tucker says, "But that doesn't mean anything: We'd be lucky to find water if we fell off the dock. Feel free to take another walk around the shore." Hazel eyes the dripping shoe in Tucker's hands. "Might have lost it getting away from something, maybe ran without thinking bout direction." She lays a hand lightly on his arm as she passes him. "Ya'll did good to track them this far." "Lass, ye think ye could find me a rabbit or a badger or something around here?" Bufer says, tugging on Hazel's sleeve. "If any of them saw the kids, I ought to be able to find out what happened." Hazel begins examining the shore and the foliage near the pond's edge for signs of disturbance - footprints, snagged cloth, broken branches and the like. Emmerson gets out of the water, shaking like a newborn. He can barely control his hands as he reaches for his backpack, hoping he packed an extra set of clothes. He pulls out his cleric vestments. He dries himself the best he can and gets dressed. "Thank Lothian you're h-here, friends. We've t-tried everything. No s-sign of them. Perhaps they followed someone." "The two of ye did the best ye could manage on yer own, beanpole," Bufer says, reassuringly patting his cold and soggy friend on the shoulder. "Lil' Big'un will pick up their trail now, don't ye worry." Feeling useless, Bufer worries the end of his threadbare sleeve as he watches Hazel's search, then glances up at his friends. "How come nobody else from town's here?" he asks. "Why's it always us? I'll tell ye, I really can't wait for the day that Heda gets to sing 'The Heroes of Maidensbridge Took A Much Deserved Day Off, And Someone Else Picked Up The Slack For Once'. "It'd be catchy," Bufer insists. [/QUOTE]
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Ptolus: Midwood - "The Dark Waters of Moss Pond"
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