"My god! That's terrible! Let's go! What attacked her? Where is she?"
Wyssal looks for Roan or a guard to let him know and ask for help / reinforcements, including the information the woman gives to her.
She also tries to read into the woman responses.
Rowan watches from overhead as Wyssal and the woman move through the streets. He follows silently in the air, keeping an eye out for any trouble.
Wyssal isn't able to detect any trace of duplicitous nature in the panicked woman, though she isn't specific in answer to the halfling's questions. "No time, just come with!" she says, dashing away down the dark street. Roan and Rowan are able to hear and/or see Wyssal following the young woman through the streets, and turn to follow along with the pair - it's the only interesting thing that's happened so far tonight.
The young lady leads Wyssal to a lightly-lit, small house on the outskirts of the city proper. "In there," she says, pointing a shaky finger.
Wyssal tells the woman in low voice...
"Go get the guards, quick! "
She tries to detect something from the house...
-Posted with Wayfinder
// Fhârn's House - Late
Fhârn stared into the fire. He couldn't really sleep, so instead he was perched in an armchair infront of the hearth. Munin was at his side, quiet for once. In his hands where his poleaxe and a whetstone. Mechanically, his left hand danced along the edge. He looked down. It was probably sharp enough to split hairs now. Yet he continued. He looked up, back into the fire. Their best eyes where out on the streets searching.
One thought echoed in the bond between master and familiar:
Soon.
The woman hurriedly nods to Wyssal, running away and quickly exiting Wyssal's field of vision, rounding a corner in the darkness. Wyssal then proceeds into the house, where the door hangs ajar. It's a simple, three-room cottage (a kitchen, a bedroom, and a lavatory).
The very first thing noticeable in the house is that it smells of death. Blood is spattered on the walls and the floor, and there's actually a hand still clutching the door handle. In the bedroom, you find the ripped-apart body of a young human woman, reaching for the bedroom window with her remaining hand, but ripped apart at the neck, bloodily.
Rowan, flying above, has the distinct view of the woman that Wyssal found running just around the corner, peeking back around, waiting a moment and then vanishing.
Roan seeing Wyssal and the other woman take off running realizes that something must be amiss and starts running down the street. Going to the door, Roan realizes that he no longer sees the young woman with Wyssal, which either means that she left the area, or plowed through the blood and gore without even hesitating, neither being a good sign. Roan stands warily at the entrance and calls in, "Wyssal? What do you see, is that woman with you?"
Wyssal casts Detect Magic, before enterng the cottage trying to make the less sound possible... she examines the place, without moving...
She then hears Roan, and turns to get out and talk to him... (unless she sees something first).
Sitting and waiting, the young baron remained silent as his councilors shuffled in one by one. Surprised to see Fhârn in fighting gear, Wilhelm looks thoughtful before nodding. I suppose I may well need mine sooner rather then later. Thumbing the uncomfortable noble garb that had been created for him, Wilhelm waits impatiently.
A pained look crossing his face, Wilhelm maintains a grim silence as he listens to Rowan's and then Roan's accounts. Sighing and running a tired hand through his hair, Wilhelm considers what he's learned. "A painter with an image seems reasonable, but we should be wary about creating a witch hunt. The last thing we need right now is chaos in the streets and a breakdown of what little trust we've established in our erstwhile citizens. If there is a killer loose, it should only make his or her life easier."
Considering a moment longer, Wilhelm continues to ponder a moment before opining, "A careful watch by a few of us as a scouting mission seems reasonable. I'm doubtful that any one, even a shapeshifter, could overpower three or four of us together. Have a care and report back as soon as you know something. I will assist with this matter personally."
Surprised by the sudden arrival of a runner, Wilhelm listens to the lass' message and then clicks his tongue in vexation. "I will be speaking with Felicia Shimmerscales in the stables. There is some matter of urgency and the rest of you may be interested in hearing the message. Dante, if you would join me I'd be appreciative." Turning on his heels, his owlbear cloak billowing behind him, Wilhelm nods to a clerk as he goes and says, "I would appreciate it if you would send for my arms and armor and meet us in the stables."
"Master Stormborn, the runner has informed me Felicia is concerned about a threat of some sort. Giants was her explanation. She didn't indicate how immediate the threat is, but I think it prudent to put our militia on alerts. If you have any other thoughts on the matter, I'd appreciate hearing them. For now I mean to understand the nature of our friend's concern. There was pitifully little to go on in the message."
Rounding the corner, Wilhelm looks to the chaotic activity, unusual for the late hour. "I see you're in a hurry to leave, cousin. You mentioned a threat of giants, which is urgent, but little else. Is this immediate? Do we need to rally the guards at this very moment?"
Dante nods to his king, and follows Wilhelm silently to the stables. His heavy cloak about armor. As they walk to the stable, a tall beautiful girl with dark hair flags them down.
Turning Dante stops in his tracks. "Alliah?" the big man gives an uncharacteristically large smile and bursts out laughing, embracing the girl, who appears to be about sixteen. "My daughter!" he cries out lifting her to his height and stroking her hair. After a moment he sets her down and wipes a tear away.
"Lord Wilhelm, this is Lady Alliah Surtova, my only child and pride of my life. Alliah, Baron Wilhelm Orlovsky." The large man makes introductions.
Alliah gives a courtly curtsy to Wilhelm, her dark eyes taking him in and sizing him up in a mystical way.(divination wizard)
Wyssal exits the shack, and bows in front of Roan.
"Master Roan! No, I send her, for her safety and mine, to call the guards, but I guess she miss you. I am afraid we had another murder victim here. Another innocent. That monster will have to pay!"
The little gold flash of movement seems to spurt words faster and squeakier than normal"Cousin, no time no time. Trouble, bad giant green green bad...." Shimmer shakes her head hard, as if shaking off a bad dream. "Sorry cousin, It is near impossible not to speak like that after a few months with my Kobold kin." Looking up at Wilhelm, no hint of panic left on her face, shimmer sighs slightly."My people are under attack, some kind of green giant. I could probably guess exactly what that means with more input. All I know is they would not have interrupted my trip unless it threatened the end of the tribe."
Shimmerscale's commands are quickly followed, even after Wilhelm shows up to question him - a pony is quickly pulled out of the stables and saddled, and readied for travel. The stablehand gives Shimmer a small bag of treats, and tells him to take care of the pony.
Roan nods, "I don't suppose this woman appears to be anything like the image that Fhàrn had made for us?" The ever wary inquisitor asked as he begins to step cautiously into the building, hoping to once again pick up the trail while the scent of the murderer is still fresh.
"Which one?"
Startled by Dante's sudden outburst, Wilhelm pauses a moment to greet the young lady who he introduces. "It is my great pleasure to meet the daughter of the esteemed General Skyborn. Lady Alliah, I bid you welcome to Domierov." Motioning to a groom, Wilhelm gestures to the young woman and says, "Narses, please see to Lady Surtova's belongings and see that she is adequately housed. I'm afraid I must beg leave for now, as there is something of an emergency to be dealt with. I must also ask your forbearance as I steal away your father. His military expertise will be required." Inclining his head again, Wilhelm turns on his heel and strides deeper into the stables, looking for his cousin.
Perplexed by the sudden stream of words, Wilhelm shakes his head at the odd turns life had taken him down. Listening carefully as Felix explains his purpose, Wilhelm grows grim and his mouth tightens at the news. "You have seen your people under attack? This was some form of magic, Felicia? If you are confident of the threat, then it must be answered." Frowning and looking out into the sleeping city through the gates, Wilhelm grimaces and replies, "We will surely aid you, given the friendship that exists," -or will- "between our peoples. There is still the matter of this murderer to attend to as well. All who are capable will join you as swiftly as we can. General Skyborn, is there a unit who could be capable of joining my cousin in her return?"
Seeing that Roan seems very distracted, Wyssal goes to investigate the crime scene again, checking first the inside and then the outside of the house, while she waits for the guards to arrive.
After a brief moment's hesitation, Wilhelm finishes his waffling and decides, "No, never mind. I'll go personally along with Anastacia, Felicia and Fhârn. There may be a diplomatic angle that requires my presence and the rest of our council is otherwise engaged. Once this murderer is tracked down, join us with significant haste. If Felicia will wait, we will wait until whatever soldiers you deem fit are ready. Otherwise, you'll simply have to send them when they are ready. Any objections?"[/b]
Turning for a moment, Wilhelm addresses a nearby clerk, "Kindly fetch Fhârn and Anastacia and warn them that they need their combat gear, as we're riding into significant danger."
Fhârn hurried trough the night towards the stables. When the messenger first came he had been delighted: the first word out of the boys mouth had been 'fetch your weapons'. He had thought - he had *hoped* they had caught on to the culprit. Then the messenger had added 'and your horse'. The culprit had fled - or perhaps lived outside the city. He had wondered for a moment how they found him/her then before the boy had time to add the last, perplexing part. So here he was, hurrying over the cobblestone streets towards the stables with Hestor packed with supplies and weaponry. We are leaving? Hmm ... Munin shadowinged him about a hundred feet above, ready in case the murderer decided to show him/herself.
But soon, he hoped, he would acquire clarity in the matter. He winced a little as he slammed open the door to the stable a little harder then planned and the loud *thud* shattered the silence of the night, announcing his arrival. Stepping trough the door, he left Hestor in the care of Munin outside.
"Here I am. Have we found the slayer?"
His swift arrival combined with the full armour hints that he had already been rearing to go when the summon came.
Wyssal turns up very little of interest in and around the house, but for very similar signs of the murder at Bej's farm. The door was not forced open, though the blood spatters start at the doorway and continue inward to the small bedroom, where it appears the deceased young woman was dragged following her assault by the murderer.
The young woman's flesh was rent by claws and teeth, the wounds of which are disturbingly black, and smell quite horrific.
About three-quarters of the way through Wyssal's search, a singular guard shows up at the front door to the small house, knocking on the doorframe of the open door. She calls further into the house, as both Roan and Wyssal are occupied searching for clues. "Hello? Is anyone there?" The guardswoman appears to be a middle-aged woman wearing hide and the sigils of Domierov, and after waiting just a few fractions of a second, enters the small house, closing the door behind her. "I was told to coem and check this house out by a young woman."
"Yes, we need help. Another murder took place here, we need guards and the rulers of the land as soon as possible."
Anastacia's arrival at the stables is heralded by the clatter of Avalanche's steel shod hooves. The young cleric swings down from her horse in a flare of black cloak. Seeing a groom nearby she demands. "Where is Lord Wilhelm?"
Anastacia then strides deeper into the stable, in the direction indicated by the flustered groom.
Seeing Wilhelm, Anastacia hurries up. "At your service, Baron."
Wilhelm is putting the finishing touches on Triumph's gear when Anastacia and Fhârn arrive in full battle gear. "I'm here, my friends." Quirking a smile at the form of address Anastcia used, Wilhelm replies, "I'm afraid we've not caught our murderer, but something else of great significance has come up. Felicia has, through some magical means, seen that the Sootscales will be under assault by giants in the near future. They may well be already. We four will be riding ahead to face the threat while the rest of the council remains here to deal with this murder."
Wilhelm turns to Dante and addresses him, "Gather a strong contingent of militia, though leaving enough to adequately defend the city, to follow us with all haste. I would like you to remain here, General Skyborn, to defend Domierov and to finish this investigation. We will be in touch in the near future." Wilhelm adds a hint of playful flourish to his address to Dante, eye's twinkling in amusement at the terms being bandied about.
"Any question?"
"Simple enough. You can brief us as we ride. I think I'll grab a pike from the armory, before we go. If we have to fight giants, it might be nice to keep them at a distance."
"Giants ..."
The arcanist sounds a bit disappointed, since he was clearly hoping to face a different foe. But - their country needed protection too and the ones left behind had shown themselves to be competent - so he knew they would catch the murderer. A pity I might not get to be there myself. But, another task was at hand and he refocused his mind on it instead.
"Do we have a better description of our foe? Any scrap of information might help us prepare."
"My lord, I believe that Alliah can handle the investigation as well as maintain the garrison here. I would prefer to accompany the men into their first actual battle. Not to question my lord's own skill at command, but mine own blade has been without blood for far too long as it is. I shall defer to your final decision however, of course." the large hooknosed bald man replied.
He waved over several retainers wearing a military uniform and began barking orders. "Soldier, Marshall four hundredof our most battle prepared men, see if we have the horses to spare otherwise, load up carts and prepare for a forced march. It sounds as if we're fighting giants, so I want ample stores of crossbows and bolts, as well as boar spears, fifteen footers cut from trees if we can manage it. Also a contingent of sappers say thirty, with outfitted trench shovels and axes, we may have to prepare a defensible position. You talk to the quartermasters and prepare food stuffs for an extended campaign. I want fifty rangers for scouting to compliment our fifty best archers. Make sure the sappers include razor trip wire." the general took a breath.
"The garrison reports to my daughter on any big decisions while I'm away, otherwise, you're under your own officers. Squire, bring me my armor and have the stable hands saddle Mandarb and outfit him with my lance."
Rowan didn't recognize whether the suspicious woman had casted a spell or not but he definitely kept his ears open to try and track her movements, also keeping a close eye on the ground for any signs of footsteps.
Wilhelm looks at Dante for a moment before nodding firmly and smiling, "Your reasoning is sound and Iomedae forbid I make you miss the chance to whet your blade. All the same, we'll try diplomacy if we can." Turning to a nearby clerk, Wilhelm continues, "Be so kind as to inform the other councilors of what is going on. Rowan shall have final say in the event of emergency and Roan is to lead the investigation with Alliah assisting. They are to continue their investigation and report once it is resolved."
Turning on his heel, Wilhelm walks to where Triumph was held ready for him and mounts in a smooth, casual motion. "Now, unless there are further suggestions or matters at hand, let us be off. I can see that poor Felicia is nearly jumping out of her scales with readiness to be off."
"Yes, this would be good. Danger is great, and I do believe haste is needed." Shimmer seems to fidget in her saddle, the sudden overwhelming need to protect the tribe seems to overpower her normally rational mind. For some reason the flood of emotions seems to push her almost to panic, though Shimmer manages to keep it from fully ruling her. A year in this body and I still can not seem to predict how these outbursts will onset. How do we live our whole life like this. No wonder Kobold have so many issues with other species.
"Fair enough. Let's ride!"
"Yes, of course, the rulers of the land will be here," says the guardswoman. "They'll be here soon," she continues, and her voice begins to crack and deepen. "But too late to rescue you and your friend here."
As you turn to look, the guardswoman has been replaced by a hulking and hunched-over, obsidian-skinned feminine figure. Black skin is stretched tight over a muscular but bony frame, and long claws and talons adorn the emaciated fingers and toothy mouth of the hideous hag. She grins at Wyssal, cracking her fingernails.
Wyssal eyes widens, fear showing on her face... she assumes a defensive position...
"Who are you? What are you? Why are you doing this? You don't need to do this! You must fight the urges that makes you kill, and let us help you! We don't need to fight!"
Initiative:
Rowan - 21
Malgorzata - 12
Wyssal - 11
Roan - 6
The hulking hag smiles, its dirty, snaggley teeth gleaming yellow in the lantern-light of the dead woman's home. "Urges?" she says, her voice rumbling. "You really don't understand anything, do you, child?" She laughs, a sound like hitting two round stones on each other repeatedly. "That's okay. You don't have much longer to be an ignorant little prick, hoping to make a dent in the misery that the world has in store for you!" she swipes at Wyssal with a sharpened talon, lunging forward to cover the short distance between them.
Her reach isn't long, and her arms aren't physically imposing, but the hag must be incredibly strong, for her talons cut through Wyssal's flesh savagely, the blow flashing past Wyssal's ability to dodge or block with lightning speed.
Wyssal has always know her voice is her greatest asset, mainly arousing the people's sense of justice and camaraderie. But she also knew there was another use for it.
She takes a 5' step back and screams with all the force in her lungs, letting the sounds hit the hag with force only her fear could muster in this situation.
She then looks at her wound, and draws her long sword.
Rowan swoops down to the doorway, fear and suspicion clawing at his gut. Shifting back to human form, he listens to the sound of panic rising in Wyssal's voice. He quickly opens the door after hearing her shout and takes a split second to observe the hideous true form of the previous women. "Who are you?!" he demands courageously.
Wyssal screams and sends three waves of sound at the attacking hag, but two of them rebound harmlessly off of her ironlike skin. The one remaining wave strikes her hard enough to harm, but she seems to resist its remaining effects so as to be almost imperceptibly harmed
Roan draws his familial horsechopper and advances on the doppelganger, lunging forward to try and impale her, but she sidesteps the blade when he gets too close.
Rowan lands outside the door, casting a spell on himself to empower his natural attacks, and flings open the door, seeing a scene of battle within a scene of carnage - a bloodied, gore filled house serving as the backdrop between his allies and a hulking, slate-skinned ugly female creature.
Not letting up, the creature rips into both Wyssal and Roan with her claws and teeth, causing great harm in both of them. More blood splashes onto the ground as her bladelike talons and sharp teeth pull flesh from Domierov's leaders.
Initiative:
Rowan - 21
Malgorzata - 12
Wyssal - 11
Roan - 6
Wyssal eyes widen in panic at the wounds she is receiving, and moves another 5' away from the hag and Roan (so she can't full attack them both again in any case).
She then conjures, from her mind, the most discordant sounds she can, and throws the essence of them at the hag, trying to nauseate her.
Finally she draws her Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
Despite the strength and discordance of Wyssal's spell, the hag is very, very tough and resists the effects of the spell without even blinking.
Roan steps up to the fore, taking a step to get in between Wyssal and the hag and takes another lunge at her with the horsechopper.
He scores a hit on her, but the blade of his horsechopper skids harmlessly off of her flesh. Still calm, he whispers forcefully to Wyssal, "It might be time to go."
Initiative:
Rowan - 21
Malgorzata - 12
Wyssal - 11
Roan - 6
Malgorzata - 148/149
"Let's go!" His friends looked hurt and the monstrous woman barely had a scratch. Rowan tales a few seconds to conjure a billowing of fog to surround the hag, concealing his friends from her view.
Wyssal thinks Rowan's idea seems very reasonable...
Escaping from Malgorzata is easy enough for the three of them, especially once Rowan lays down his fog cloud, allowing Roan to slip out of range of her attacks just long enough for the three of them to begin running, full tilt, towards more populated sections of town.
Looking behind you shows no sign of the hag in pursuit, and within a minute the trio reach the town hall - a large building built for interaction between the town's administration and population. At this late hour, it's quite deserted, as nobody lives here, but Roan and Rowan both have a key, and let themselves in, locking the door behind them.
Breathless with fatigue, Roan gasps, "What was that?"