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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Haraash Saan" data-source="post: 3200801" data-attributes="member: 46615">Eventually Argonne and Moxadder returned to the Abbey with Maron Devlis. They told us that the villagers had returned and only five of their number were missing. Those villagers kidnapped were, the old crone Wilma, Olvan the Boatwright and three girls, Kareena, Lessha and Nadine. Those with the two monks that we assumed were also taken added up to seven missing. Very unusual. The three girls’ use was obvious. Pleasure and then potentially sale on the slavers block, but the two older folk were of no use, and in fact more of a burden than anything else. And the scholars? Well they were very much the target of this strike. But why take the others? Perhaps it was part of some ruse to lead a search in the wrong direction?They also told us that they had found a dozen tracks made by hobnailed boots, most likely the brigands, intermingled with a few that were recognised by Maron Devlis as those belong to locals. Our missing villagers no doubt. The tracks led south east into the forest where a massive bonfire had been lit. More oddity though, it was not a camp. There was no evidence such as food scraps, flattened grass caused by sleeping men or of bodily waste and the tracks continued into the forest.Upon hearing their report I decided that the forest was the place to continue our own investigations. My curiosity had certainly been peaked. So we left the Abbey in Jessop’s good hands and then went to pick up the trail the others had found.We searched the burnt out area comprehensively and found nothing, though Mortec did notice that Strav’s sword was glowing. “Magic?” he queried of Stravarious. The tall hooded man did not answer. After several days travelling together we still knew very little of our mostly silent comrade. Mortec’s question had grabbed my interest and it certainly added to the mystery of Stravarious. Enchanted weapons were rarer than those that wove the spells to create them.Mortec started examining the area outside of the charred earth and the rest of us watched him curiously. The little bearded fellow was snuffling around on all fours. Suddenly he cried out with joy, “Ah ha! Come look at this!” he beckoned excitedly, “See there are no tracks between the fire and here,” he pointed to place perhaps ten feet from the edge of the blackened earth “yet from this point on there are tracks!” Maron Devlis shook his head in disbelief, but confirmed the little Gnome’s observation and added that they were different tracks to the ones that led on into the forest. These tracks were made by softer and less pronounced sailor’s boots.Moxadder smugly surmised the thought of the group. “Told ya! It’s pirates!” The shambling mound had been right all along. It certainly looked to be pirates and not brigands that we were chasing. Perhaps they had changed their clothing from brigands’ attire to that of pirates, and then burnt the disguises? An elaborate ruse for a raid on some old men and their books.We decided that this new trail was more promising than the other one which we concluded was a false one to mislead would be trackers. So we followed the new tracks.  They led north east and out of the woods once more. We crossed through gently rolling hills that were east of the Abbey and headed straight for the ocean. The tracks led us to a place called Shallow Cove, a small inlet ending in a narrow beach. We had to scramble down into it from the cliff. Our efforts were rewarded. There were drag marks, long ones, in the sand. “Long boats.“ muttered Maron Devlis.“I told you so, I told you so!” Moxadder sung as he danced a little jig in the sand and clapped his hands in joy. I am one that believes in credit where credit is due, but right at the moment I just wanted skewer and silence the annoying scum.I watched the others scamper around, ferreting about for anything that might tell us more. Not really my sort of work, rooting around, looking under rocks, pawing over trodden sand, but it does yield results. Argonne cried out and waved a red cloth that he had found. Maron Devlis knew what it was immediately, sail cloth, most likely from the boats that had been stashed here on the beach. But much more interestingly he also proclaimed it to belong to the ships of the Bloodsails. Cutthroats and pirates they are, pillagers throughout Sorcerers Bay that usually spared no one. Although it did look as if they were for hire, or very interested in something that they should not be.No other information could be garnered from the sandy cove so we left to investigate the lighthouse. Well, Mortec was very keen to investigate it, I wanted to follow things methodically and convinced Argonne, to go with me back to the forest and the suspected false tracks. I also asked Maron Devlis to accompany us, but he declined pointing out that it was late afternoon now and he had to get back to his own home which was an hour’s walk to the east. We thanked him for his company and his help and parted ways. Moxadder and Baastian, well Baastian and the ever lingering Moxadder, headed off to the Copsthorpe’s hut to spend the night. Morgan and Stravarious followed Mortec to the lighthouse. One last look over the rolling sea and I left it behind me as I strode off with Argonne. My masked comrade and I arrived back at the forest and went about finding the trail again. We both found it soon enough, I had stooped to helping Argonne by peering at the ground as he seemed to need a second pair of eyes. It was more to reassure him, as the things that he pointed out completely eluded me. After perhaps a mile the prints disappeared. Whether it was because Argonne had lost the tracks or more elaborate I could not be sure, but it did serve to convince me that the trail went nowhere. Perhaps the onset of sunset helped my decision. On returning I went to the Abbey where I opted to spend the night reading and studying in hope that I would come across some interesting tales. Argonne decided that a more comfortable stay with the Copsthorpes’ was in order. We agreed to meet in the morning at the Abbey as it was not far from the road to Yorathton. I arrived at the Abbey a little before dark and noted that the corpses of the monks had been moved. Thank Laster for that! It would have been rather uncomfortable walking past their lifeless forms. I lit a candle, and after singing out loudly for Jessop, ventured in. There was no-one about so I found myself the comfiest chair that I could, pulled out some interesting volumes and started to digest their contents.</blockquote>

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