[Realms #313] Southward, Ho! part 3
From Karak's point of view, Bereford proved to be even less interesting than Cutter Jack's. The town of poor farmers didn't even have an outfitter's, let alone someone capable of crafting him a magic waraxe. In fact, apart from private dwellings, the only building in town was a traveler's inn, The Wayward Fool. Leaving Feln and Wolf outside, the VQS stepped into the smoky interior of the place where they immediately found all eyes upon them.
"Oi!" Karak bellowed as he stamped toward the bar. "Break out yer best! I've a powerful thirst to quench!"
They drank and ate a bit while subtly pumping the barkeep, Lodar Manford, for any information that might be useful to their quest. He had little to tell them other than to mention a recent murder and point them toward a man drinking hear the fire. That man, a farmer by the name of Jaden Brum, had witnessed a bizarre slaying and it had made him something of a celebrity in town. For the price of a few watery beers he was more than willing to share the tale with the strangers.
"Well, it was near on to dusk about a fortnight ago when I see this figure come stumbling out of the woods near the Jenson farm. I’m a curious sort, so I start to wander over to see who it might be. I was thinkin’ it might be old Homer got himself into the jug again and that he might be needing someone to show him back to his house," the man drawled, taking a refreshing pull off his beer. "I’m about half-way across the field, and I’m thinkin’ that it really don’t look much like Homer when I see Sam Jenson a-walkin’ over to this feller too. Now Sam’s not all that friendly to folks, ‘specially to those who trespass on his property, so I’m figurin’ there’ll be some yellin’ and cussin’ goin’ on pretty soon." The man grinned mischievously, giving the others the impression that he delighted in the prospect of the potential fight. As he continued his tale, his mood quickly darkened.
"Now I’m still aways away from the two when Sam meets up with this guy and starts to yell at him to get off his land. Sam didn’t get more than two breaths before this guy hauls back and clobbers him in the head," Jaden took another sip of courage and ran a worn hand through his greasy hair. "I can tell you right now that I’ve seen my share of brawls, and this stranger didn’t look like he was moving quite right; he was slow and kinda jerky like you get when you’ve had more to drink than you oughta, but that one punch dropped Sam like he was hit with a spade. That stranger didn’t even stop movin’ really. He just walloped Sam and kept on a-goin’ across the fields."
The VQS exchanged looks. They suspected the influence of the adversary they had come to call "The Black Bishop". He was seemingly able to hop from body to body and the herky-jerky description offered them by Jaden lend credence to their supposition. They said nothing to the farmer and let him continue his yarn.
"When I finally get to where Sam’s lying I can tell right off that he was dead. His neck was bendin’ off at an angle and his eyes were open and starin’ straight into the sky," he'd gone a bit pale as he spoke. He was obviously shaken by the events he was recounting despite the notoriety being a witness had afforded him with his neighbors. "Soon as I see that, I came a runnin’ into town to get a bunch of guys together to go after that murderer, ‘cause I didn’t rightly feel safe facing him all alone. We searched through the forest where that guy wandered into but we couldn’t find no sign of him. We even tried to use Cobham Trask’s huntin’ hounds but they couldn’t pick up a scent to follow. They just kinda milled around and wimpered like they was spooked by somethin'."
Thinking his tale was done, they began to pepper him with questions: "Which way did the herky-jerky man come from? Which way did he disappear?" The man drank his beer and eyed the group.
"Now as strange as all that sounds, what really got us worried is what happened next," he said and the questions stopped at once. Jaden was well-practiced in the pacing of his story. He built dramatic tension that a bard would be proud of. "We had a service for Sam the next day and buried him out on his farm like he said he always wanted, right next to Sara, his wife. A couple of days later I go on over to Sam’s place to feed his animals, and make sure they're alright until one of his sons can arrange to get the critters moved over to his farm and I see Sam’s grave all dug up. When I take a closer look I can see that Sam’s body is gone; stolen right out of the grave. We’ve all been a might uneasy about that I can tell you. We’ve checked all the other grave sites around town and none of them seem to be disturbed, just old Sam’s."
This story peaked the group's interests, of course, but as neither the direction the hurky-jerky man came from (south toward the isolated hamlet of Miller's Pond) nor the direction he was headed (north toward the Gray Crags) led in the same direction as the pull in Morier's head, they decided not to investigate. They stayed the night in Bereford, got directions to the next large settlement (the town of Floxen) and bid the villager's farewell.
Earthday, the 18th and Freeday, the 19th of Goodmonth, 1269 AE
The two day journey to Floxen was without major incident. Wolves approached the group's camp at night, but thought better of venturing closer than the edge of the firelight.
Floxen was much larger than Bereford, walled with many stone buildings. Karak was thrilled; surely here they would find someone who could enchant his precious axe. They paid the small tax to enter the town (again leaving Feln and Wolf alone in the wilderness) and entered the place full of optimism. Ledare's spirits were further bolstered by the presence of a temple to Flor. She urged the group in that direction, reminding Karak that priests were capable of enchanting weapons as well as wizards.
"Oi!" Karak bellowed as he stamped into the healing hall. "Where be someone who can magic-up me axe?" Seeing the shocked expressions on the gathered clerics and acolytes, Ledare quickly stepped forward while Morier physically restrained the eager dwarf.
"Pardon my companion, Sister," she said to the head priestess. "He means well, although his tact is not as keen as his blade." The Matriarch looked at Ledare, her companions, and the holy symbol Huzair had given to the Janissary.
"I see you follow the White Lady," the cleric said with a serene nod of her head.
"I do," Ledare admitted. "I am a Faithful Daughter, but newly called to service."
"Then perhaps we can help one another," the Matriarch said. "Come, follow me to my chambers."
"I’m afraid I have received news that concerns me greatly," the priestess (whose name she told them was Mellona) explained once they had all crowded into her office. "We recently received word of a remote village overrun with undead. A priest of Garjarvan discovered that all the villagers had apparently died of some virulent plague and that zombies now inhabit the town. He barely escaped with his life and upon reaching the town of Bereford convinced a group of local adventurers known as the Speckled Band to accompany him back to cleanse the town. One of the members of this group was a priestess of our order named Shamalin. She sent a message to the temple here in Floxen explaining the situation and letting us know that her party intended to investigate."
"That was several weeks ago and we have received no further word from Shamalin," she finished. "She and the Speckled Band have disappeared."
"And you would like us to investigate?" Ledare asked, prompting a nod from Mellona.
"We have no holy warriors of our own here in Floxen," she said. "If we did, I would not press so upon you, a stranger to us."
"If it would aid the White Lady, I am bound to offer my help," Ledare pledged and Mellona smiled warmly at her.
"Now hold on!" Karak grumbled. "We don't break up a band o' skaven we know are fixin' to taint an entire village. But we run off after a missing cleric without battin' an eye?"
"If you were to do this thing for us," Mellona went on, "we would be willing to arrange for the enchantment of your axe, good sir dwarf."
"Oh, well, then," Karak nodded, getting to his feet. "I'm in."
