Rowan finds and brings down a nice fat turkey, which he tosses into the pit with the thylacine. It tears into the turkey, spraying blood everywhere as it eats it bones and all.
When it's done, it seems somewhat calmer.
Corwen, who has been napping at the base of a tree while Rowan has been out hunting, joins the druid as he feeds the turkey to the thylacine. Watching it maul the bird, he remarks, "Savage creature. How do you fancy your chances of befriending it?"
"Good question. I'll have to ask it."
In a series of growls and barks Rowan asks the thylacine the following questions.
-How long have you been trapped?
-Will you help us if we get you out?
-Have you seen any other humans?
-Is there anything around that threatens you?
-Do you have a mate? Any family?
The creature freezes as Rowan yips and yaps at it.
Many suns... It finally responds. What help? Why help? No other two legs... just you... I am alone..
"I met a human trapped as a bear for many suns. Are you trapped in a similar way? My friends are trying to build a new kingdom that coexists peacefully with other races. There are some that prefer to oppress and destroy those that are different or weaker than themselves. I would ask you to help protect them with us."
Two leg strange... what is bear man? What is kingdom? I eat, I sleep, I hunt, I rest. Weaker than me is food. Faster is not.
"Two legs like me are not food. Some may be weaker, but others are stronger. If you hunt the weaker ones, the stronger ones will hunt you down. Two legs are not like you, they don't follow the natural laws. I will free you if you choose to never hunt two legs."
Two legs attack me, I hunt it. It says simply.
"I suppose that's the best agreement that I can reach with her for now." Rowan says to the others with a small sigh. "As long as us two leg-ahem- humans don't attack her, she shouldn't hunt us. Any suggestions on how to get her out?"
Sadly my talents lie in starting fires and talking to people. Any enchantments will rest solely on your capable shoulders my friend. This is your bailiwick, I defer to your expertise."
Rowan summons a couple of elementals, who knock down enough dirt, in a controlled way, that the Thylacine can escape. It does so with alacrity.
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The group moves east, passing through friendly farming land, getting waves from the peasants who have moved in as they pass through some recently settled bits of the kingdom. They make quick time through this area, as there are patrols of militia that keep the worst of things calm.
As they pass through, one of the farmers waves them down. "Pardon me, milord..." The farmer says, looking at the group, and finally settling on the heavily armored Dante. "I don't mean to be insultin', but I hope you've come about the deaths?"
Shimmer stares at the peasant for a moment and smiles. "How would voicing hope for aid ever be insulting? We have not been informed of any deaths, but now that you will be explaining to us what has transpired we will help set that which is wrong to right."
The farmer shies away from Shimmer, looking nervous and eying the humans in the party as if hoping one of them speaks up quickly so he doesn't have to respond to the kobold...
The bedraggled, mud-spattered half-elf nudges his mount forward to address the farmer. "Easy man, easy. Deaths, you say? Who has died? And what sort of happenings have surrounded these deaths?" With a look to Dante to check that he's not overtstepping the mark, Corwen adds, "I'm sure Lord Stormborn will be able to put an end to your troubles."
The farmer looks relieved, and nods at the half-elf as locals begin to gather in a crowd behind him.. "Aye, sure, Sir. Well, it started three days ago. Marvis's pigs were killed in the middle of the night. Something got into their pen, ripped them apart... weren't nothin' left of 'em. Five sows, a mess of piglets, and ornery old Kuldin, meanest old boar hog you ever met, something ripped his head right offin' his body. Looked like wolves, biggest damn wolves you ever saw. Marvis heard howls, he was afraid to go out when he heard the pigs screamin' in agony." The farmer twists his hat in his hands. Several in the crowd comment on how Marvis was alive because he didn't go out.
"Then two nights ago, poor Saki got ripped apart on her way home from the new Inn." He nods up the road, far in the distance a newly constructed 2-story building can be seen. "Nice girl Saki was, her and her family just moved down a few months ago. She was workin' at the inn, doin' the cookin. She and the new Innkeeper's son was sweet on each other. Poor Lansin has been beside himself since it happened. People heard wolf howls again. Only way we knew it was her was the locket Lansin gave her in the gore..." The locals mutter angrily, and there are several comments about 'pretty lass', 'decent girl' and 'poor boy'.
The farmer bites his lip, and his eyes grow damp. "And then last night... poor little Bevin and half his sheep got killed. Poor lad couldn't have been more than fourteen. Boy died defending his flock. His parents are like the walkin' dead now. No souls in 'em." A lot of anger in the eyes of the crowd, and not a little of the anger is directed toward Dante. Mutters about 'nobody protectin' us' and 'where's the watch' and other angry mutters over the boys death. A few muttered 'monsters protected but humans hunted...' comments as well.
During his tale of woe, several of the people in the growing crowd behind the farmer mutter 'werewolf' and make signs against evil.
His sharp ears catching the mutterings of the crowd, Corwen arches an eyebrow. "We're sorry to hear of the community's losses, friend. You and your folk are in the midst of dark happenings, perhaps, but fear not, Lord Stormborn will see these matters put right." The latent performer in Corwen can't help but continue. "Though now a mighty lord, Dante Stormborn is a man of the people; he'll not leave you to suffer unaided, you can rely on that!"
Moving close to Dante, Corwen murmurs quietly to the General, "The peasants fear werewolves, m'lord. It would seem prudent to at least make a superficial investigation of these killings, for local morale if nothing else. If it turns out to be mere wolves, you could just put a bounty on pelts," he shrugs. "The farm folk would take care of the rest."
"I doubt that these troubles are caused by mere wolves. Perhaps we could spend a night at the inn and investigate this issue. Not much use in expanding the kingdom if we can't even take care of what we have."
Corwen quirks his mouth wryly. "I doubt it also, but one can always hope."
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Dante's face goes grim and dour as he listen's to the villager's tales. Nodding his ascent as the roguish half elf, Corwen, comforted them and did most of the talking.
He spoke to the gathered people. "Mr.Surefoot is right. We shan't leave you to suffer. We will stay here and resolve this matter if we can. Until such matters are resolved I will be declaring a mandatory curfew. No one stays alone, and no one goes out after dark, until the wolves are dealt with."
Dismounting he walks to Rowan and speaks low. "Might this be Bej's killer come north?"
He motions the folks and his party towards the inn, walking his horse.
"Unfortunately, I don't think that is likely. The past three nights have been a full moon, making it more likely to be a werewolf. I want to scout out the places where the attacks took place. We'll need some help interviewing the villagers. Find out if anyone has been acting strange or have been injured recently."
Nodding, Dante waves Corwen and Shimmer over. "Corwen, Felix, find out what you can about the villagers that were attacked and inquire along the lines of missing persons, odd behavior, extraordinary feats of strength and the like. Rowan and myself will inspect the kill scenes and see if a trail can be found."
Corwen grimaces. "Lycanthropes... Well, I can start finding out what I can from the locals, once we're settled. I might engage the service of the fellow who piped up in the first place, he seemed to take a shine to me... although maybe I have Shimmer to thank for that," he adds with a cheeky grin, turning to the kobold. "Perhaps let me make the first contact with him, and then I can introduce you once he's fully at his ease. I'll be back shortly."
Corwen swings away from the group to walk beside the farmer who spoke up initially. "Now friend, we've not been introduced. Corwen Surefoot's the name," he says, extending a hand. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, d'you think you could see your way to helping me out a little with finding out more about what's happened here?"
Shimmer nods to Corwen and waits to give him a chance.
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Dante waives at Rowan to follow him and then asks a townsperson. "Can you guide me and my companion to the scenes of these tragedies? " he says in as caring a voice as he can muster.
The farmer looks at Corwyn. "Dunno, Milord. I'm just 'Ol Markey If I did, I'd tell ya. All I know is, people is dead, and bloodily. Good people too..." He glances at Shimmer and Ikit, before taking a step further away from them.
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The woman that Dante flags down looks nervous. "Well, I don't rightly know myself, Milord. But Marvis is over at the inn, drinking, I'm sure. He's been too afraid to work his land and mostly getting drunk lately. He could take you to his farm, I think. He could also show you where the girl and boy were killed, they had him out looking at the places people got killed. See if it looked like his farm did..."
Shimmer waits patiently for Corwyn to ask a few more questions, trying to avoid spooking the villagers. She attempts to look as harmless as possible, knowing full well these peasants were not going to give her the benefit of even the most tenuous of doubts.
"Thank you good lady. I'll away to the inn. Speak to this Marvis." Dante continues to walk his horse and tethers it on the rail in front of the inn. He enters and looks around.
The farmer looks at Corwyn. "Dunno, Milord. I'm just 'Ol Markey If I did, I'd tell ya. All I know is, people is dead, and bloodily. Good people too..." He glances at Shimmer and Ikit, before taking a step further away from them.
Corwen laughs. "I'm no lord. Tell you what, how about I shout you a pint, just you and me, at the local establishment. I'd really like to get some idea of this town, and I think a friendly chat between us would be just the thing."
Corwen follows Markey for a step or two towards the tavern before turning to Shimmer, pointing in the direction he and Markey are walking, the holding up ten fingers before pointing at the kobold, then the direction they are walking once more.
The inn is relatively new, no more than a year old. So it's not got the tell-tale squeaks and groans when people enter. The inn's common room is relatively empty for now. When the group enters, there's only four people in the room. A swarthy man with foreign clothing sits in the corner with a large jug of ale next to him, drinking from a flaggon.
A paler man with normal clothing sits at the bar, drinking ale from a large flaggon as well.
Behind the counter, a florid faced man stands and watches the two drinkers, wiping sweat from his forehead.
A heavy set woman works with a mop on the floor, mopping up between the lunch crowd and the evening crowd.
The farmer following Corwen along moves to take a chair at a table away from everyone else, including the woman mopping. He gives a friendly nod to the innkeeper and the woman mopping. He looks at the man at the bar, and nods at Corwen. "Marvis..." He comments quietly, in a whisper.
Shimmer waits till she counts to ten and follows in to the inn. Their she walks up to the bar and scrabbles up it to place a single gold coin on the counter. "A water for a parched throat please."
Ikit follows the gold scaled lizzard in. Twitching nervously
"What ikit do now now? Ikit not sure..."
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"Just have a seat over here with me." Rowan answers as he sits himself at a table over in the corner of the inn. He takes one good look around the common room before removing his helm.
Noting things of interest, he pulls out his tobacco pipe and begins to puff away while listening to any talk being made.
The foreigner seems to have been working on his drinking long enough to already be unsteady. Same with the man at the bar. Other than that, nothing even remotely unusual, and even that isn't unusual...
The rodent scurries over and quickly takes a seat. Making sure to place the man between him and the rest of the strange people
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"Nothing seems out of place here. Both of those men are a little deep into their cups. I can understand that for what Marvis has been through but I wonder if something is troubling the foreigner over there." Rowan says quietly to Ikit. "Do you smell anything from him? I admit I know little about ratfolk, do you have a heighten sense of smell?" he asks, a little embarrassment showing in his smile.
"Ikit no have good sniff sniff like big whiskers. But ikit try help help!" he then gives the room a look around with his beady eyes, sniffing air just in case
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Ikit looks around, but sees nothing out of the ordinary, just two humans getting drunk, one cleaning, and one tending the bar.
He gets odd looks, but he's used to that.
Dante sits down with a bottle of whiskey purchased from the bartender and pours his companions a drink. "We could do with a rest. Master Marvis appears to be in no state to take us where we must go tonight."
Shimmer waits till she counts to ten and follows in to the inn. Their she walks up to the bar and scrabbles up it to place a single gold coin on the counter. "A water for a parched throat please."
The innkeeper eyes the kobold warily, but has apparently heard enough rumors about a gold kobold that he doesn't object to her being in the place. Or perhaps it's Dante's presence. He gets her a mug of ale.
The whiskey Dante orders is not the best, but it's better than the ale Shimmer has.
Felix takes one look at the ale and then eyes the bar hand. With one quick motion she pulls down the ale, thanking the odd twist of biology that allowed kobolds to enjoy even the most rancid foods. Two seconds later she summons water in to being within the mug and washes it down as well. A cruel smile plays a crossed her reptilian lips.
"You would think people would realize that being deliberately ungracious to the people who run their nation and have decided to look in to their werewolf problem might not be the best idea. Probably be easier to just move an army in to deal with the issue, with all the inherent problems forcing the quartering of said army on the peasantry entails." Though this is said to Dante, it is spoken in such a way as to carry to the ears of all those in the room. The small kobold winks at Dante as she muses out loud.