The Father of Waters

Game Master Fighting Chicken

Istiel puts the body on a table and begins unwrapping the cloth. "On confrontation the creature transformed. It grew several inches and its skin smoothed. I attacked at that moment. It was a threat I was not willing to leave breathing."

She points to the arm where she made an icision in the flesh. "I made a cut there to check. It is surprisingly human."

Naira examines the body as the cloth is removed. She remains quiet as Istiel recounts the story, glancing up briefly at Imix to confirm if it was true.

=============
Oios
=============

Hamfatten shrugs in response to your question. "Wasn't aware there was any rancor."

Tyrell grimaces, his face flushing with embarrassment or anger. "Two people with different opinions of what must be done in these times. I'll tell them to reign in their emotions."

=============
The Body
=============

At first, Alma Slate's corpse looks just like Alma Slate. Peeling her skin back, there is little to suggest she is inhuman, her body under the skin a thing of muscle and organs. Slowly, throughout the morning, you take the woman apart, her body slowly broken down into bits and pieces.

----------

Sighing, Naira stands, covered in blood and viscera. You all are about to give up, when the engineer notices something. Leaning in, the woman's nose practically in contact with Alma's arm, Naira pulls back a flap of previously cut skin...

"Over here," Naira calls them over. She pokes at the muscle, shifting it with her already blood-stained finger. Already she was too familiar with this stench. "This is muscle, see how it connects to the bones? Normal, but, if you look closely," she begins to raise the skin, pointing to thin red threads, almost unnoticeable amidst the muscle, connecting the skin and tissue. "You'll see these tiny, crimson tendrils attaching the skin to the muscle."

She drops the flap, taking a step back and taking in a breath of air. "Skin doesn't connect to muscle like that."

Oios looks at what Naira is pointing to closely and nods. You are a woman of many talents. This confirms it then. I will ask Telowo to perform last rites on the body. The skin, at least, is deserving of it, even if the rest of it is not. The truth of this must NOT come out right now. The people must stay united and having them turn on each other on suspicion of being skinwalkers would not be helpful. Better they think Alma was executed for insubordination. I will let the other leaders know of this at a meeting tonight.

"No!" Imix's voice is clear, his response immediate. "With respect, I disagree. Alma was beloved. At least five people saw the fight - we were forced to explain lest we have to kill five percent of our able bodied. Additionally several others already know from the meeting."
"I believe you are correct they might turn on each other, but it is too late. Gossip will twist what they know until it cannot be contained. Better to state there is a threat, that we detected it, that we have countermeasures, and that it is dealt with."
"Offer to let those who doubt come and see the autopsy."
He looks pointedly at Oios "Additionally, I would rather they turn on each other than turn on us. This thing" he gestures at the Viscera on the table "Made a good point - A bunch of strangers have taken over leadership. Normally we could rely on respect for our positions to carry the day, but these people have seen all vestiges of society systematically expunged."

Naira bows at the complement. Following Imix, she chimes in with her opinion. "If there are more, we know now they can be identified. If there are more," she looks to Istiel, "we know know they can be slain. Her name need not be sullied to justify what's been done, I agree with the Suriname." Naira wipes the blood from her hands onto her outfit. "And so would the interim Chief Engineer, I am certain," she adds.

The engineer looks at her outfit, now stained a rusted red. "I feel a strong rain coming, and I need to wash off. Call upon me if my talents are further needed."

Silent and stalking from the moment when Istiel carried in the body to the discovery of Alma's fate and then the horrible discovery that Alma was indeed a skin walker, Drazan's feelings were shaken and twisted like nothing he had felt; maybe more than he was willing to admit to himself. Clenching his fists just before realizing that protesting to the very people that would have him killed for insubordination, Drazan turns without speaking a word and follows Naira out until overtaking her when she is only halfway to the door. He nearly breaks into a run as he puts distance between himself and the hall.

Istiel watches closely as the group dissects the body of the creature. It was fascinating seeing the different muscles, bones, and organs laid out on the table- so alike to animals yet distinct in their own right. She knew many of the body's arteries and the paths ki travel, but only from the outside perspective of combat targets and pressure points, respectfully.

The discovery of the strange skin attachments offers final proof to the monster's identity, and she hopes all are satisfied.

Istiel folds her arms over her chest as the others speak. "I agree with the Suriname and Engineer. The people must know we are capable of protecting them from such dangers."

Remembering something, she turns to leave. "We must begin our preparations to leave. Our near future lies elsewhere." Now that she knows the Excise head isn't a skin stealer, the monk is merely concerned for her safety and goes to the warehouses to check up on her.

Fine. We will carry her to the triage and let the people there know what happened. Announce that we found a hidden threat and defeated it. let anyone who wishes to examine the body do so. The body will be treated the same as any other who has died in honour of Alma's memory. Oios grunts in defeat Engineer. After you have cleaned up, you and your compatriots should go to the Excise Head and assist her in the survey of our remaining food stores. The faster we do that the faster we can decide our next move. Imix and I at least will be at the triage.

============
Drazan
============

You find Sarre atop the palisade walkway, looking out to the east, her bow clutched in her hand. Lost in contemplation, she is slow to respond when you call her name. A few seconds pass and Sarre shakes her head, a small smile gracing her lips as she sees you. Nodding to the forest beyond the pavilion, Sarre's deep brown eyes turn back to searching through the drizzle. "Perhaps it is the rain, but I haven't seen a cookfire. Do you think they are eating... us? I know they are still out there..."

As if to punctuate her thoughts, you hear the sounds of a tree being felled, the creaking and crashing of the tree into others echoing across the forest to your east.

==========
Istiel
==========

Texikuk is arms deep in a basket of yams when you find her, the door to the warehouse open, but guarded at least by five of the Garrison-Captain's men.

Looking up, the Excise-Head's eyebrows crease as she sees you approaching, a frown surely under the cloth wrapped around her mouth. "Monk? More bad news, I assume?"

Sighing, Tex stands and wipes her hands unconsciously on her shirt. "Another 72 yams, Mauni, all good," the Excise-Head says, pointing a finger to the girl you've just noticed, standing next to another basket, an oversized ledger almost as big as the girl herself, spread out over the basket.

"That's 2784 good, 523 rotten," the girls says, making a quick calculation on the margins. The smell of rotted food assails your nostrils.

"Nicely done, child. You'll make a fine Excise agent one day." Reaching down, Tex gives the girl a quick ruffle of her head, and then looks back to you.

Pointing to another isle, Tex continues. "A lot of blood down there, pooled. I'm no Shadow, but I'd bet a body was there."

Istiel enters the warehouse, half-expecting anther tragedy. Instead, she is greeted by the sickly smell of rotting food. Perhaps that is a tragedy, in its own way. This was their most important assest to protect now.

She glances about the warehouse as Texikuk speaks. "No. I am here to help. I also need javelins." Istiel states her intentions simply, walking forward and looking at the various piles of food and supplies.

Glancing at Tex when she mentions the body, the monk stalks over to briefly look at the pooled blood. She kneels down and places a finger in the puddle to check its freshness. Is this the remnants of the scene the Suriname described?

========
Solo
========

It pours where Naira walks, black clouds forming above her, trailing her as she seeks a spot to properly clean. The beige clothes that form her dress now appear burgundy, her hands stained burnt umber. The engineer finds a quiet spot to herself.

Thick droplets pelt the streets of Shadeholme. In her storm, confident that the rain would make it difficult to pry, Naira removes her dress and wrings the lingering blood. She wonders whose blood that trickles off her into the growing puddles, Alma's or the Skin-Stealer? It dilutes until it is like a mere drop in a lake, carried in streams to the canals, taking it far away from the engineer.

Naira smiles as she dons her outfit once more. A skin-stealer! A legend! Something that she has seen (studied and dissected now!), that Queho has only told stories of! Have others ever been able to identify how a skin-stealer takes the skin? Was her new knowledge over this creature groundbreaking?

Naira laughs to herself as her storm subsides. She had a report to make, and a hell of a good one at that.

========
With Tetchuix
========

After finding Tetchuix, Naira debriefs. She presents it all to the interim-Chief engineer same as she would to her Chief in Te-Moak. She explains her findings in detail, provides quick sketches of the skin-attaching mechanism, and muses on possible methods to test for certain whether one was a skin-stealer without killing them or relying on another's testimony.

Towards the end of the report, she ceases formality. "Sure going to make the other Engineers jealous when they learn their little rain-caller is also a monster hunter." She straightens up in jest, giving a quick salute, "alright, what're the orders, Chief?"

========
On the way to the Triage
========
It is a strange funeral procession through the rain-streaked streets of Shadeholme. Imix holds Alma, blood soaked sheet clad Alma, as a groom holds a bride. The rain soaks through the clothes, turns crimson, and joins the sucking mud on the ground.
Behind him trail Utzi, Cogsward, Malia, Ixkik and Noemi. All still in shock, though who is not in this, the first morning since Shadeholme fell?
Finally comes Oios, in the position normally undertaken by a chanting priest.

========
On the way to the Triage
========

Oios adopts a sonorous tone suited to a mourning procession as they move towards the triage.

Come O people. Beloved of Damballah and his goodly children. Come and see the consequence of attacking the valley sacred to him and his family. They came at our walls and we threw them back. Now they resort to foul trickery. Come see poor Alma Slate. Killed by the enemy. Her skin worn by a being of evil intent to undermine from within; To break the unity that binds us; The fellowship that keeps the evil at bay. But what is such treachery to the wisdom of Damballah? To the light of Ayida-Wedu? Come O people and see what happens to those who dare attack us from within or without. Come and see. Come and see O people.

========
Istiel
========

Texikuk's head is already peering into another woven basket. "Javelins, javelins, third isle from the entrance, in a series of open baskets. We have... 107, at last count. Take what you need."

The blood is pooled and sticky, a few flies circling lazily above it. The most striking thing about it is that the blood is found under a long and deep shelf. Small baskets and gourds have been scattered into the isle - you can see the blood crusted at many of their bases. Meaning that there was a body here, and it was moved.

Tex comes around the isle, wiping her hands on her pants. "Monk, may I ask you a question? Who decided that Oios should be leader?"

==============
Naira
==============

Tetchuix's eyes widen as you give your report, and then narrow as he looks over your sketch, his thin finger pointing to the sucker mechanism. "Perhaps there is a way to see if one is an imposter without killing it? A way to separate a little bit of skin from the muscle, and hopefully take the mechanism with it..."

Tet frowns, and shrugs, his face perplexed. "But it would take time, and a live specimen, to develop the methodology."

Smiling a small flat smile, the interim-chief engineer nods. "Ai, it'll drive all those rakkers in Te-Moak mad to hear of our exploits, your findings especially. And I'll savor every minute of it."

Tetchuix pauses, another frown briefly passing over his countenance. "As for what we do next, the leader wants us counting supplies. Seems a waste of our talents, but..."

=================
Drazan and Sarre
=================

==================
To the Triage
==================

The crowd surges towards the small funeral procession, townsfolk shouting questions as you move towards the triage.

"How is it not Alma!"

"The Shadow is right! We beat them back from the walls, we beat them when they come for us, we'll beat them what they throw at us next!"

By the time you've reached the triage, the crowd is thick, their hands grasping at the linen around Alma, one command now shouted over and over, many voices trembling with fear and anticipation.

"Show us the body! Show us Alma Slate!"

"Show Respect! This is a funeral, not a circus! Make way!"
Imix leads the way, deferring to Oios the decision of when to show the crowd the awful truth.

Oios nods at Imix. First the body will be shown to the healers to show them how to identify the new threat. Then the body will be displayed for all to view. Then to honor the memory of Alma Slate of Shadeholme it shall be treated as we treat our other fallen. For we are not savages like the ones outside our walls. We are the civilized Three Peoples of the Valley and by our law and order we defy them. If you wish to wait outside here so be it. The body will be taken back to the stage for an orderly viewing.

Istiel briefly stares at the blood. Another threat? Or where Alma Slate met her end? These warehouses have seen much death recently.

While not expecting to find anything to indicate the source of the pool, she looks anyway. Lowering her body to rest on her stomach, she picks through the gourds and baskets, as well as under the shelf, in search of clues to the source of the blood.

Tex's question is oddly familiar to her own when she learned the news. She could tell her now, at least. "Oios was selected leader to act as bait to expose Gilder's killer. A monster called a skin stealer. It worked. After you left Alma Slate began to act suspiciously and publicly decried Oios. Imix and I questioned her. The monster can wear skins but does not take memories. Imix determined it was not Slate and we killed the monster wearing her skin. The creature was dissected and declared inhuman. Slate's skinned body is unaccounted for." The monk's voice is wooden and matter-of-fact about the events that transpired. While speaking she is pushing aside various containers, opening them, and feeling around under the shelf.

It's possible this is the most Texikuk has ever heard Istiel speak- the two have had few encounters before this, and they were marked by the monk's signature brevity.

"It'd be painful," Naira begins, choosing her words carefully, trying to hide her enthusiasm, "but with a steady hand and, hmm, a sharp knife, one could, hm, remove the skin? Perhaps with a proper healer we could attempt it."

The Undine is animated until Tetchuix mentions the task at hand. "A waste of our talents?" Her eyes roll as she places her sketches back into her bag. "Not even delving into our training and expertise... Pachi bends the earth to her will, I bend the rain and water to mine, and the best they have for us is counting?" She smiles lightly, shaking her head. "If the old leadership was like the new, I am surprised Shadeholme lasted to this day."

The engineers walk to the warehouse, pondering what calculations she could make to estimate how much they had rather than count each grain simpletons.

=============
Triage
=============

Cogsward steps forward, coughing into his hand. "Ahem. Our leader speaks with great wisdom - and information the rest of us don't have. Give it time, folks. And trust me when I say that I've seen... Alma not being Alma. This was a justified death."

Once inside, Allfeather sits on Issy's shoulder, barely a squawk issuing from his beak, his owner characteristically just as quiet. Like Helga and the other healers, they watch solemnly as they are instructed on the peculiar anatomy of the skin stealer. For a long moment, everyone is silent, until Helga speaks, not with malice, but a pointed question none-the-less. "What good does it do us to identify one after their death? The death has not been avoided at that point."

The viewing of the body is packed with almost everyone in town taking turns looking at Alma, the Coywolf echoing with murmuring speculation. Gradually, the room thins out, many of the occupants returning to Misery Alley, others starting their militia training, and the healers remain.

Tentatively, Issy approaches you, anxiety plain on her face. "Have any of you seen Rigel? She left to go pray last night, and she's not come back. She promised to come back."

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Warehouses
=============

Texikuk stands, stunned, her pale face even paler than usual. "That... is something. Well, I suppose Shadeholme owes you a debt of gratitude."

A long beat passes, and Tex pulls up a basket, sitting ramrod straight and staring at the blood as Istiel snoops about in it. Before long she speaks again, her voice quiet. "But you dodged the question, Istiel. Who appointed Oios to lead us?"

--------

Naira finds the two woman just like that, Istiel crawling around in almost dried blood, and the other woman, tall and pale, though her features are characteristically Tkoyah, lean and sharp, sitting on a basket. The pale woman turns her head as Naira enters, her face momentarily blank, before recognition flashes across her features. Standing, the woman wipes her hands unconsciously on her shirt, before offering a quick bow. "Ah. Our guests. How may I help you?"

"Note well, Helga, that we identified this one before its death. Should there be another skinstealer - and there is no evidence that there is - then it cannot steal memories. Your community is tight knit. All of you have someone who can vouch for you. Travel together. If unsure, ask questions of the shared past. If asked such a question, answer it."
Imix pauses, looking out over the crowd for emphasis, "Remember though that sometimes memory fails people who are old, tired or under great stress. 'Alma' was given three chances to remember, and only when she failed all three were we sure she was truly the monster."
"Those who feel fear fill their hearts, take courage. This creature was all but legendary. It would have taken a Suriname to understand what we faced, and the gods provided one."
He stands, if possible, taller. "The Gods are with you, Shadeholme. They watch over you. Try to be worthy."

When Issy - the girl who refused apprenticeship - comes up, Imix steps back. Even his skill at reading humans was enough to realise she was ill at ease with him. When she spoke, however, he came forward. "No-one should go alone in Shadeholme at the moment. I need to heal the wounded here, if there are any left, and find my apprentices. If you know where she went I am prepared to take a small force and accompany you there. We must ask Oios though - his authority has been tested enough today."

----------
Warehouse
----------

The monk feels a swelling of pride when Tex says Shadeholme owes her a debt, but says nothing. A small bit of glory.

Istiel tries to see under the shelf, but her mask makes a frustrating obstacle in mmaing her head flush with the ground. Instead she sweeps her arm over the dusty, gore-soaked flooring. Her voice is projected under the shelf, muffled and indistinct. "I do not know. There was a meeting last night. I was not there. Imix said Oios is leader by acclaim. The Garrison Captain said he speaks through Oios. I do not always agree with the Shadow, but he has earned my trust in battle. He will do."

=============
Triage
=============

Oios nods at Imix. A Suriname, and a water bending sorceress have come to Shadeholme from the outside. The Gods have truly provided us with wonders to battle the horrors of Kalfu. We will live up to these gifts.

Oios gives his instructions Now more than ever we must look out for each other. Heed the Suriname's words and if anyone has suspicions of one of your neighbours then bring them to me or to the Suriname. Remember what this creature tried to do. It tried to turn us against each other and that, more than anything, is what we must prevent, and we will do so by working at our tasks with order and respect and trust in the leaders and in the gods. Imix, please continue with your healing. After we will go and inspect the town to see where the leaders of Shadeholme can provide assistance. As a part of this we will search for Rigel young one. We will start with her place of devotion if you know where it be.

Drazan's skin is hot to the touch as he relaxes to her push, falling back to a relaxed stance from a staggered one. "It is hard to say, the skin stealers dance in the skins of their victims just as easily as they dance around direct questions." Drazan sighs, "Though you calling a mountain man friend in a familiar tone is proof enough. How goes your watch here?"

============
Warehouse
============

Naira approaches Istiel and Texikuk, looking over the warehouse and what remained of the stored food. Between the dried blood on the monk and the spoiled food, the engineer struggles to hold a respectful expression.

The undine returns the bow, her surveying tools and trinkets hanging from her belt clinking as she lowers. We are here to assist with the counting of rations." Her smiles curls. "Or any other task more suited for our talents."

Naira turns to the monk, glancing at the blood that covered her. "Perhaps you should wash. Shall I call a cloud for you?"

Istiel recognizes Naira's voice, and doesn't bother getting up, looking over, or stopping her search to greet them. When asked about using a wash, she doesn't even realize the engineer was speaking to her. The silent gap draws on to painful proportions until she realizes Naira is not speaking to Tex.

"No." She finally responds, opening up a blood-stained basket to look at the dried herbs inside. Thistle. Thank the gods. I can make tea.

==============
Triage
==============

Issy runs her hands through her hair, staring at the ground. "Rigel had a few private places outside of town, but I doubt she would have gone beyond the palisade. Otherwise, I think she would look for a spot of natural beauty."

Issy's head turns, as if she's trying to look through the walls, to silkwood forest in the bowl at the center of Eel Mound. "She's probably with the silkworms..."

=============
Drazan
=============

Sarre gives you a rueful snort of a laugh. "To satisfy your curiosity then: I said you were the scariest man I'd ever seen, and not to hurt me. In return, I'd get you on your feet again."

Sighing, your friend looks out again towards the forest. "The watch goes uneventfully. It is weird, this boredom and fear, wrapped up in me, all at once."

She looks to you a long while without speaking, and then turns once more to look out from the palisade. "Haven't you wondered where your defeated is? Look in the cells below the High Hall..."

============
Warehouse
============

Texikuk says just one word in response to Istiel, a whisper the monk barely picks up. "Imix."

----------

The tall woman looks over the engineers again, before pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're glad to have your help then. I'm Texikuk, Excise-Head. We've got a lot of rotten food. I've had Mauni take it in bunches to the northeast corner of the warehouse, for quarantine, just in case whatever rotted it is, for lack of a better word, contagious. But it needs to be out of the warehouse. Where it goes, I don't care."

"Alternatively, we need the granary checked. We'll need a rough measurement of how much grain we've got."

==============
Triage
==============
"I am sure she is fine." lies Imix, trying to bring comfort to the girl. He turns to his new allies.
"Utzi. If you have time I would appreciate your help to look for Rigel. She is an asset of this community, and has one the highest kill counts that I know. If she is in danger it behooves us to look to help her, and to ensure that help is numerous and competent." he pauses for a moment and looks at the peasants who had dared face down a Monk and a Suriname to save an old woman - then shown reason instead of stubbornness. "Cogsward. Malia. Ixkik. Noemi. You have all shown yourselves to be brave, loyal, steadfast and level headed. I do not know what your professions are, but you appear to be well placed to become apprentice heroes. Please accompany us. Rigel is, after all, one of 'your own'."

============
Triage
============

Utzi nods, while Issy, for her part, looks unconvinced by the Suriname's comforts. Blushing, the girl looks at her feet.

Cogsward regards the Suriname for a moment before pulling a pouch of yerba bark from his belt pouch. Popping some bark into his mouth, the man chews thoughtfully, and then spits a stream of brown spittle onto the Coywolf's floor. "We're just farmers, gatherers, and other laborers, Suriname, nothing special. But it would be good for you and the leaders to hear our words none-the-less. I'll come with you."

Helgya places her hand on Imix's arm. "Things here are stable. The near-dead have been brought back from the crossroads, and Issy and I have been working well until Ayida-Wedu's nightly rest to get them all up and walking. Which is to say, don't use your magic here, Suriname. It may be needed elsewhere with more urgency."

============
Warehouse
============

Naira runs her hand over her scalp. Before she can react to the monk, Tex begins speaking to her. "Naira of the Fox Mound, Engineer of Te-Moak and Sorceress of the Stream and Storm. Leave a sample of the spoiled for us to test, I'd like to inspect them. In the meantime, may you take me to the granary, Excise-Head?"

The engineer looks down to Istiel before they left. "Wash off the blood before it diseases you. If there are more of those things," she said, not knowing if Texikuk knew of the skin-stealer, "then we'll need your talents once again. Shadeholme needs you at your strongest."

Naira removes her chalk and slate from her bag, ready to calculate what grain remained. "When you are ready, Excise-Head."

============
Triage
============

It is decided then. We will go find Isitel and Drazan and then look into the places where Rigel might be. They know Shadeholme better than Imix and I and will be able to guide us. I believe Isiel is at the warehouses. It will give me a chance to look into how the survey is going.

Oios sighs and looks at Helga and Issy Your efforts in saving lives is truly worthy of Loco. Let me or the Suriname know if there is anything we can do to help you on your task. As well send word to Telowo that there is a body to be buried. And ask him to prepare the ceremonial pool. I will perform the leadership ceremony and beg Damballah for guidance at the break of dawn, as is proper for a new leader. Oios' volume is loud enough for most in the triage to hear. That's his normal tone of voice though.

====================
Looking for Rigel
====================

The two guards stationed at the path into the silkwood step aside as you approach. "Looking for the Garrison-Captain? He went down there about an hour ago. We're not going to tell the leader of Shadeholme he can't go where he wants, har!"

---------

Down, down, into the bowl you go, dropping below the treeline, the stone steps of the path worn but still well-formed after all these generations, a tribute to fine Takayah craftsmanship. A few weeks removed from the last harvest, the forest has already begun to replenish itself; the cocoons left behind have hatched, and as you descend, you notice the newly-hatched larvae crawling along the mulberry tree trunks and leaves, munching happily away.

However, it becomes apparent soon enough that all is not as it should be. Naira is the first to notice, perhaps because of her attachment to natural cycles, but the air temperature actually rises a bit as you descend, instead of growing cooler in the shady depression. Not enough to be uncomfortable or perhaps even noticeable to someone not so attuned, but once the engineer points it out it is apparent enough. Ahead of you lies the one path within the silkwood forest; it will lead to Thom's dwelling: a modest hut, attached to which is a small workroom and storehouse, a paved pagoda, and a small well.

Istiel moves into the grove with the others, taking up the rear. It is hard to remain focused and alert, however, as the wiggling silkworms disturb the trees with small and constant movements.

The revelation of the unexpected temperature differential causes her to frown- not that it was visible behind her mask. Thom. Something has happened. "We must find Thom." The monk voices her thoughts with an edge of urgency.

"The defeated causes less problems in the depths of the hall than among your people. So perhaps it is for the better, for now. Drazan pauses with a sigh. "Though he will need to eat eventually and guesses would go that he would be deprived a share of ration."

"It is good to see your spirit still burns inside you, the anticipation for what awaits everyone is too much for some. And so We must be ready to stand against the coming darkness especially when it might be wearing the guise of the closest of friends and family." Drazan gives a nod to emphasize his concern before turning toward Highhall to see the mountain man is fed.

Naira trails behind in the group, though the short engineer makes strides to stay a bit ahead of Istiel. When Naira feels the heat, she experiences it in a strange sensation, and staggers briefly. She didn't notice it so much as she felt it. She thought it was humidity at first, that is how it felt to her, but she couldn't place why she supposed that.

==============
Drazan
==============

The labyrinthine basement of the High Hall is, much like the Suriname Home's lower level in Cornucopia, more warren than orderly rooms. Cramped hallways, filled with overflow storage, parchment-work, and other sundries collected by the town's bureaucrats over the centuries, are flanked by small and equally cramped rooms.

Some of the only rooms in the basement that are not cluttered are the holding cells - a suite of small barren rooms, their wooden doors replaced with a chiseled stone lattice. Behind one of these lattices, you find the Rheumy, beaten and bloody. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes are blackened, his nose obviously broken. One earlobe has been split, and the man's left thumb lies at a crooked - no, impossible - angle.

A stout wooden lock sits on the stone column sunk into the depressions in the floor in front of the door's opening; the column in turn blocks the door from opening but a half an inch.

Everywhere we are not vigilant the rot advances Oios says with a grimace that is becoming almost permanently affixed to his expression.

Imix, his thick skin not as sensitive as the others, looked puzzled.
"What do you mean, Oios. I agree with the sentiment, but I do not see the rot here."

The trees give way to a clearing, Thom's neat stone hut sitting in the middle of the paved pagoda, the workroom stretching off the side, a small, sagging wooden leanto. The rain almost seems to hang in the air here, it falls so slowly, more humid mist than anything else, the raindrops coppery-tasting on your lips.

Tetchuix and Apachana stop at the clearing, the woman's skin becoming noticeably pimpled with ghostbumps. "Nope," the Apachana says, while simultaneously Tetchuix coughs and shakes his head. "Uh uh. We're not warriors. There's something off here. Anaisa Pye be with you." The two engineers look at each other, a quick decision reached. Apchana's eyes widen. "Yep. We're staying here."

Despite the utter lack of a breeze, something moves slowly under the leanto. Under the outbuilding are of course tools of Thom's trade; baskets woven finely enough to hold water; a loom; finely strung racks from which are hung coccoons; and most importantly, a large fire pit, on which sits a large beaten copper pot, used by the farmer and weaver to boil the cocoons.

Above the fire-pit, strung from the smoke-holes in the chimney, twisting, as if carried on a gentle wind, floats a - for lack of a better word - work of art. Bones, twisted around each other, held in place by black silk, atop which sits four bird skulls, each pointing roughly north, south, east and west, and then two more bird skulls, looking up at the sky and down at the earth. Six large feathers, midnight black and a couple of feet long, dangle from the fetish.

"Yep. No. Rakking. Way." Tetchuix mutters, backing up and making a quick wavvy line - Damballah's symbol - in front of him.

"Are you still here?" Drazan asks stepping up to the cell, his face obviously contending with whether or not this needed to happen or if it needed to happen to the guards for mocking Drazan's mercy.

============
Drazan
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The Rheumy turns at the sound of your voice, his swollen eyes opening just a bit, a bubble of blood forming under his right nostril. "Master?" His voice is as ragged as his breath, and softer. "They tried to send me to the pyre, but I made them sadder for it."

"I am... uneasy. There is something wrong with this place."
Imix's eyes open wide at the copper pot.
"If raiders had come through here, I do not believe they would have left such treasures alone. This was something inhuman. Plague. Poison. Insects. Or the First Flame."
He looks grim "It would match our opponents to leave a plague pit here in the heart of Shadeholme. I will... I suggest that I make something to go in there for us. Something we can burn afterwards."