Larken listens to the party's chatter without much interest as they walk back to the inn together. "A note for me," he thinks sourly, "Great!" Still, nothing to be done about Sandpoint until he puts Maginmar behind him.
He packs, and waits silently for the rest of the party to get ready. If they don't make any move to leave today... now... he slips out and rides off.
Elisile is also quick to pack, and eager to leave. Now that it is decided to leave, she wants to go now, not willing to spend another night in town.
The mood is grim as the party head back to Magnimar. No one wants to talk about what happened in the courtroom, and Gint has pretty much said all he knows about the murders. It is a reasonably quick trip back to Sandpoint – a day of hard riding with an overnight stop in a wayshrine, and then a further morning’s slog to reach the town. The sky is clear, but the North Road is bedevilled by sea fog and falling leaves rustle under the mounts’ hooves.
Sandpoint itself is subdued when the party returns. The cheer following the defeat of Nualia and the goblins has evaporated like the morning mist and been replaced by a feeling of sullen dread, the citizens moving around looking huddled and avoiding each other’s gaze. Even the weather seems depressed as a cold drizzle blows in from the ocean.
As they are met by the guard at the gate, he speaks quickly to Gint in a low voice. Gint gulps and turns to the party.
“There have been some more murders. The sheriff wants us to meet at the lumber mill.”
The mill is by the river, its huge waterwheel still. A few of the town watch stand outside, looking pale. As the party arrives, they are brought inside. “Prepare yourselves,” says the watchman.
Inside the mill is an awful stench of rot and death. On the far wall, the naked corpse of a man is hung from hooks on the wall, the face so horribly mutilated as to be unrecognisable and the sihedron rune carved into the flesh on his chest. The floor is covered with sawdust but even this has not fully absorbed the blood. A piece of heavy equipment, some sort of giant saw or log-splitter, is coated in a thick later of gore and next to it, wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket, is another body. On the floor by the log-splitter is an axe, the blade seemingly coated with greenish ichor and the handle covered with bloody handprints.
In the centre of the room is the brooding presence of Sheriff Hemlock as he directs the watch, and another man who looks to be in shock. He looks up at the group. “Thank the gods you have made it. I need your help.”
He nods to the corpse on the wall. “That was Banny Harker, who ran this place for the Scarnettis. That,” – he points out the covered corpse by the log-splitter – “was Katrine Vinder, apparently his girlfriend. We found her in the log-splitter.”
“And this,” he says, looking at the man accompanying him, “Is Ibor Thorn, who found all of this when he came to work this morning.”
"What the hell?! I'd say it was those split-jawed freaks 'cept for the letter to the kid... I can't imagine those slavering demon spawn sitting down to write a letter."
"He's got a bunch of little cuts on him, probably from some sort of talons. Whoever killed him either had some serious claws or wore spiked gauntlets or something similar." Alwyn stands up and walks slowly around the gore-spattered mill. "The cuts reek even worse than the rest of the room. The killer exudes this smell - but what kind of creature stinks like this?"
He turns to the watchmen. "Did the girl also have the star cut into her flesh? And what's that green slime on the axe?"
Know religion aid another; roll 17 (huh...)
"I'm not sure. But meditate, and maybe you'll come to the conclusion or something."
Elisile goes whiter than normal, her eyes wide. She heads back outside and takes several deep breaths before re-entering the gory scene. Seemingly much calmer – even detached – now, she bends and begins examining the floor for signs of prints or tracks, gesturing for Dravite to do the same.
“Sheriff, can you think of any motive for these crimes?” the elf asks Hemlock, without looking up. “Is there any sort of connection between the victims?”
Normally she would agree with Illes that it must be some sort of inhuman monster that perpetrated these crimes ... but after her experience with Magnimar "justice" she is not so sure.
"Did the girl also have the star cut into her flesh?"
They shake their heads.
And what's that green slime on the axe?"
"We don't know. It looks like maybe the girl hit whatever it was with the axe before it pushed her in the log-splitter - maybe she disturbed it as it went about its business. But the stuff on it stinks like death."
“Sheriff, can you think of any motive for these crimes?” the elf asks Hemlock, without looking up. “Is there any sort of connection between the victims?”
"No, I've got no idea. That's why I called for your help - I deal with town drunks, not stuff like this. But it seems your friend here" - he looks at Larken - "has something to do with it. I can show you the note back at the Watch barracks. And you can look the the other bodies too, and the survivor, at the temple."
"As to a connection between the two sets of killings, I can't say. The first victims were hucksters, but Harker just ran the mill as far as I know. We think the killing of the Vinder girl wasn't planned, and that she was just unlucky to come and see her boyfriend at the wrong time. But Thorn here can probably tell you more - I was about to start questioning him when you got here."
Too many damn marks ta be trackin' anythin' 'ere.
"We need to see this note."
Elisile nods in agreement to both Dravite and Hudak. “But let us speak to this man first,” she says, gesturing to Thorn.
Alwyn:
Hudak:
Larken watches the group investigate the scene. His skills don't really run toward this kind of thing, but he'll have a look around for clues.
He can't help but note the odd looks he's getting from guards, and Hemlock, and even the group.
After all the searching is done, he says, "Right. Let's go have a look at this note."
"Larkin, you're smarter than me. You know how this looks. Is there anything you want to tell us? Or,...don't want to tell us, but ought to anyway? I'll stand with you, but if there's some weird stuff going on man..."
Elisile looks to Hudak. “Larken had been riding with us from Magnimar for the last day and a half, and has been with us for many of the days preceding that. It seems exceedingly unlikely that he could have had anything to do with this. Our group is divided enough without the seeds of suspicion and paranoia being planted amongst us.” She looks thoughtful. “In fact, that may be just what this note has been designed to do…”
"Sweet Desna, the stench!" Illes covers his nose and mouth with one hand. I'm going to puke if I stay in here too long!"
Larken watches the group investigate the scene. His skills don't really run toward this kind of thing, but he'll have a look around for clues.
Outside, the mill has a small jetty by the river. Larken notices what looks like a bare human footprint. It reeks of rot like the room.
The axe blade is covered with bit of rotten flesh, and it absolutely stinks - it's positively stomach-churning. It doesn't really seem to have much blood on it, though.
After they have examined the scene, the group head to the Watch barracks. Hemlock shows them two notes.
"This one we found in the pocket of one of the bodies. And this one is the one to Larken, which was in an envelope by the bodies."
Messrs Mortwell, Hask and Tabe
A deal has come about for which I need capital. It involves property and gold, and though I am not at liberty to tell you the full details, it will make us all rich. Come to Bradley's Barn on Cougar Creek tonight. We can meet there to discuss our futures.
Your Lordship
Larken
You should come to the Misgivings soon. Come and meet the Pack, for they have something wonderful to show you.
The Skinsaw Man
Larken reads the note, trying to make some sense of it. When he's finished, he hands it off to whoever reaches for it.
"Huh," he says, puzzlement on his face, "I haven't got a single clue what that means, but it can't be good."
Vethran scratches his chin a bit, some stubble beginning to show as he's not had the luxury of a razor for several days. "I haven't a clue, either, but perhaps we can at least piece together what it was that attacked these people. Whatever it was, I believe we can reasonably assume it wasn't human. Given the hue of the blood and the fact that there's no noticable trail of blood to suggest an injury that continued to bleed, I'm reasonably certain our guilty party is something unliving... perhaps a golem or undead of some kind. Golems tend to be more orderly and methodical, though, not given to desecrating and dismembering their victims... so that leaves us with the undead."
Vethran frowns. "I'm afraid my knowledge on the subject is somewhat lacking. Illes, Alwyn, are either of you familiar with the undead? Particularly any certain kinds that exude a powerful stench? The stink in that mill is certainly more than would normally be expected from mere rotting flesh."
"You are probably right. The bare footprint doesn't sit well with my idea of the perpetrator wearing heavy spiked gauntlets. And the stink of it... The creature that did this is clearly made of decomposing flesh. I have heard about golems made from the assembled body parts of humanoids, and how their animating spirit is prone to berserk rages.But such a creature would certainly not leave behind such an odd note. I'll head over to the cathedral to ask around about the properties of the restless dead, as well as who this 'Skinsaw Man' might be. Why don't Vethran come with me, while the rest of you look around a bit more and ask the witness some questions."
"Skinsaw.....skinsaw man.....wasniks? Was.....Nick's.....? Pauggh. Where's this place with the Pack?"
Misgivings be stated like it be a place. Big ol' capital lett'r an' everythin'. Is there a 'Misgivings' located in de area?
Have I heard an epic where our hero battles some reeking undead?
"Or a Miss Givings? You know like a lady?"
Check out Sherlock Hudak.
"You are probably right. The bare footprint doesn't sit well with my idea of the perpetrator wearing heavy spiked gauntlets. And the stink of it... The creature that did this is clearly made of decomposing flesh. I have heard about golems made from the assembled body parts of humanoids, and how their animating spirit is prone to berserk rages.But such a creature would certainly not leave behind such an odd note. I'll head over to the cathedral to ask around about the properties of the restless dead, as well as who this 'Skinsaw Man' might be. Why don't Vethran come with me, while the rest of you look around a bit more and ask the witness some questions."
The sheriff sends Gint with Vethran and Alwyn. He stays with the rest as they question Thorn.
Misgivings be stated like it be a place. Big ol' capital lett'r an' everythin'. Is there a 'Misgivings' located in de area?
"Or a Miss Givings? You know like a lady?"
Check out Sherlock Hudak.
At the temple:
"Good morning, Father. As you undoubtedly know, there's been another set of murders in the lumber mill. The killer is someone or something that walks on two legs, leaves human-sized footprints, has claws and reeks worse than death itself. Vethran here thinks it is an undead monster, while I wonder whether it might be some sort of grotesque construct. Do you have any theories about the nature of the killer?"
He suddenly stops, looking alarmed. "I have heard it said that the curse of the corpse-eaters is carried in a bite, so that living victims are in turn changed into the next generation of ghouls. We have a survivor from the first attack here, and we have been trying to look after him. His wits are addled and he is succumbing to some ailment of the body, and he took a bite from whatever it was that killed those poor men. Perhaps we should go quicky - the man could be stricken with ghoul fever."
The priest quickly leads off towards the temple's small infirmary, a simple room off the temple's main courtyard. As they aproach, they hear a crash and a yell, and a lay brother dashes out of the door. "High Priest Xanthus, it is Sevilla! He has gone mad!"
A large figure suddenly looms in the doorway. Wearing little more than ragged trousers, it seems to be a tall, broad-shouldered human man. His skin in a sickly grey-green, drawn tightly across muscle and bone, and covered in a sheen of sweat. As he steps into the sunlight, he cries hoarsely in pain, and throws an arm acoss his eyes, showing long and twisted claw-like nails on his hands. His face seems strangely distorted as if his lower face has grown outwards into a fanged dog-like snout.
He catches sight of the group with Father Xanthus, and he drops to all fours and draws slightly back into the shadows of the doorway. His voice thick, he calls out.
"The master, His Lordship, the Skinsaw Man, he calls me to him. I saw him, I saw him..." - he breaks off momentarily, seemingly weeping - "He killed them, there was nothing I can do. The teeth, the razor, the screaming, I saw it all, he made me watch, and then he gave me his gift as I lay there. It hurts so, it feels so.... ah.... the pain...." - he slumps to one side, leaning on the doorway, his head on the floor, and breathes raggedly, a thick string of drool hanging from his mouth - "... It's like fire. But I cannot resist. He calls me. But it hurts so. Why am I so hungry? Why am I so HUNGRY!?"
The final words come out almost as a howl, and he jerks his head up, fixing his eyes again on the group with glittering, feverish eyes.
At the temple:
At the temple:
At the temple:
at the temple:
at the temple:
** spoiler omitted **
Dravite helps. "Ach, De livin' dead be most unfun ta be tanglin' wit. Back ta yer shackles, beast-thing!"
at the temple:
Why do I be always gittin' 'em low and yer.....oh....nuff said, sally forth!
On the way to the barracks Illes mutters an old Varisian nursery rhyme,
"Ghastly, ghastly, graveyard creeper,
Found a child and had to eat her.
He crept up slowly from the well,
She should have known him by the smell."
Quite a shock there Ibor, right? You worked with Harker. He ever mention anyone out to get him?"
At the temple:
at the temple:
When/(if) we CAN close the door, let's bribe him with a puppy/kitten/etc for information. We won't really give him the puppy.
At the temple:
[ooc]I don't think we have chains. Of course, he doesn't know that.
Illes shakes his head, "No idea. I don't get it either. Anything you can think of... It doesn't look like this is over. My cousin thinks there might be some walking dead involved here. They never stop until someone makes them, but the thing is the note. Someone must be directing them and that someone is probably has some kind of crazy-man logic for these targets. If we could just come up with a connection between the first killings and these maybe we could stop the next ones from happening!"