"... and tomorrow my avenging angels, bring me more stories of the force".
...by which I meant the Watch rather than the 'Force'!!! No need to swap genres and tell me about midichlorians or suchlike!!!
When nobody else comments on what they found out at The Lady's reading, Amelia shakes her head. "Ok, so, what I find odd is that the chest, and it's contents, belonged to our Tinker. It had his name on the things in it, and yet the owner had been dead for decades. Please consider that for a moment. How could our victim have been dead for decades if he was killed this morning. These two things are not possible... unless our Tinker this morning is not who he claimed to be."
She waits for that to sink in. "Now, our original tinker was dead decades ago, and the last time Muncy saw this, was 20 years ago. This, to me, means we have several possibilities. Twenty years ago, someone killed our Tinker and took his place, hiding in East Side. He had no family, no friends, and this would be relatively easy to do if you looked a bit like him. There is, of course, a more sinister possibility. Something killed him 20 years ago, and has been wearing his skin for 20 years, hiding in plain sight. Something that could leave a baby's footprint when it finally got tired of being in the Tinker. Maybe the Tinker's body was finally failing, or it's just 20 years is the mark for this thing to find a new host." She shrugs. "I deal in spirits and posessions all the time, so maybe that's why I think of that, but I think it would be good to take something from our victim and get The Lady to do a reading on something he owned recently, to see if she can pick up any insights off it."
When she's done, she taps her chin thoughtfully. "Did anyone else notice that someone, or more likely, something was watching us today after we left the victim's home? Things usually go bump in the night. I suggest we stay in a group, at someone's home or place of business." She waves a hand around, indicating Ostarian's shop. "Not all of us are equipped to deal with spirits and things that go murder in the night, and others are not equipped to deal with more mundane murders that haunt the night. Until this is done, I suggest we do not split up in groups smaller than two during the day, and not at all during the night."
Mama had planned on ducking into one of her favorite alleys and finding some shelter there, but the girl made good sense. "Mama hadn't even thought about evil spirits taking control of people's bodies. You're right, sugar. I don't think separating right now would be good for any of us...I felt something watching us earlier. It might have been one of those spirits.If you trust your Lady, I'm fine with more questions for her. But, I'm worried we might be getting her too deep in this, if you know what I'm saying. She might need protection, too."
"I was looking through tools and receipts while you all looked at the blood," Elliomander says thoughtfully, "where there any footprints leading towards the body or only away from it?"
When the conversation turns to sleeping arrangements he shifts uneasily and answers, "My room here is... pretty humble. If people were going to stay here we'd have to try to fill in the floor around the workbenches in this area... Maybe an inn would be a better fit?"
"That's all assumin' this purple woman's tellin' us the truth. Seems like a lot o' hocus pocus." Gar sits on the edge of a chair, his hands forming a chapel peak at his chin. His salt and pepper (mostly salt) beard trails down toward his chest. He would never had grown it had the septons not forbidden him from shaving--another mark to show his impurity. The thing had itched maddeningly as it had grown in, but he had accepted that as merely one more way to suffer.
Everyone knows that suffering brings you closer to the gods.
"But alright. For the sake of spec-u-lation, let's say she's legit and the real owner of that box was really someone other than the minced stew meat we found on the floor."
The metallic taste of blood fills Gar's mouth as he reimagines the scene.
"Is our working assumption gonna be that some hellspawn creature's been waltzin' around in Old Bill's skin for twenty years? Hells, I'd peg the 'child psychopath' idea as more plausible'n that."
Still, Gar's face shows that he takes the idea seriously. He's seen Amelia in enough action to know she's got a gift for spotting the macabre.
He turns to the sleuth. "Whatcha think, Ms. Marshall? You got some science to shed on this, or are we left chasing child-size demons out of this hell and back into the one they come from?"
"Yes, Ms. Frill and I noticed something peculiar earlier today. But stay together?" He echoes reluctantly. He had rented cheap inn room, far from the temple, which wasn't large enough to accomodate others. And, he had not anticipated having others present for his night...prayers. It simply wouldn't do. Still, if there was someone, or something, following them, it might be best to be cautious, at least until they knew what they were dealing with.
Vera ponders what was said earlier, then responds to Gar. "Well, assuming the Purple Lady is truly a seer and mot a charlatan, there is a mundane explanation: The records in the locked box simply were from someone else. Perhaps Old Bill took over another tinker's business... or another tinker's identity."
She pauses a moment. "If lodging is a concern, I suppose you could crash at in my office. There's a sofa and an overstuffed chair, plus plenty of floor space."
"I didn't see any footprints leading to his body, only away. At least, the only bloody footprints were leading away. Granted, the blood had to spread to make them, but it was only one footprint anyway, which I noted was odd at the time."
She nods at Vera. "I did say that was also a likely explanation, which is why I want to take something to her tomorrow that our Old Bill used daily, from his tools. And honestly I'll be relieved if it turns out Our Old Bill took the identity of another Old Bill. That would give us more things to look into, as he must have been hiding from someone to pretend to be Bill for 20 years. I certainly wouldn't. However, whatever was watching us today was a spirit, and somehow, I don't think it's going to be that simple with spirits involved." She apparently, doesn't have any lack of faith in The Violet Lady.
She does nod however. "Certainly, a hotel or Ms. Marshall's. I would say, likely Ms. Marshall's, as I'd not want to put any innkeepers or other guests in danger."
Deciding that there is safety in numbers, the group elect to spend the night under a single roof... and, again with that nagging feeling of being watched, decamp from 'Smoke and Powder' to Vera's premises. Making the best of the available furniture and space, the various folk finally settle down to sleep... The silence of the night is interrupted by the sound of a scratch at the street door. It ceases, and the bleary-eyed group begin to wonder if it was just their imagination, a faint scratching at the wood, when suddenly it begins again — softly but insistent. The faint sound of a whimper just reaches their ears through the heavy portal.
"That does lend some credence to your theory..." Elliomander reflects, "if there was something malevolent living in old Bill it only ever would have walked away from him... after making him cut himself up like that... though if he was already dead he wouldn't have felt anything, hopefully."
"Do you have a dog, Ms. Marshall?" Elliomander asks, "the scratching and whimpering sounds like an animal that expects to be let in..."
Amelia yawns, and sits up. She looks around the small space, and sighs. "Sorry love, you're going to have to come out without the show." She pauses and sighs. "I know, I like the show too, and it's great advertising, but there's no room..." She pauses. "No, I will not kill them for witnessing you come out without the show." Then she listens again. "Ok, here we go..."
Amelia begins to chant under her breath, as she did before, and then eventually she opens her mouth and eyes, her eyes dancing with flames. Then she breaths out a burst of fire from her mouth, and Lilly pours out, incorporeal and looking angry.
The whimpering and scratching has faded by the time that the group, now joined by Lilly, are able to get a look at what is outside. The night street is quiet, free from the bustle and noise of the day… a light mist wafts along the cobbles, and at first it seems that no one is there when Amelia suddenly catches sight of it . A short way down the street, just rounding the nearest corner is a mangy dog, likely one of the many strays that wander the city. This one is emaciated with hunger, its ribs showing prominently, and appears to be limping, favouring one of its front paws. Even as it rounds the corner out of sight, there is the unmistakable glimpse of fresh blood dripping from its injured paw. A quick glance at the cobbles and door shows that bloody smears and paw prints mark where it approached the door, scratched at it, and has now wandered away.
Mama Frill calls out to the pup, and starts walking toward it, intending to heal the little creature and give it some food from her bag. She looks around as she heads toward it.
Perception
"Mama can't stand to see nothing starve now," she calls out as she walks toward the dog, tucking into her bag and pulling some more of the cheese.
As Mama Frill approaches, the dog slinks away... its bloody paw-prints leading around a corner, into a winding alleyway - along which an open gutter trickles filthy water, and out of sight...
Elliomander draws his multi-barreled pistol and follows behind the odd little lady. "Remember," he says quietly, "we don't go off alone until the case is solved... especially when this dog seems to be intentionally leading you away..."
Amelia casts 'Detect Undead' on the mutt before it goes out of sight.
The hound, limping out of view, is exuding a relatively unpleasant aura of undeath... lingering and hanging in the air behind the beast, the necromantic aura can be seen trailing back to Vera's front door.
"STOP! Return to Vera's now, that hound is dead!" Amelia's voice cuts through the dark. She maintains the detect undead spell, and begins to scan the city to see if she can pick up any other auras within 60 ft.
"STOP! Return to Vera's now, that hound is dead!" Amelia's voice cuts through the dark. She maintains the detect undead spell, and begins to scan the city to see if she can pick up any other auras within 60 ft.
There is, as far as Amelia is able to detect, nothing else undead within proximity.
The rat folk stops at the warning from Amelia. She turns and heads back to the group. "Mama's got a big heart. Don't go for no suffering around me. Thanks for letting me know or I'd be swimming in a sewer Other now, looking for that dog."
Vera hears the commontion, awakens, and quickly dresses for action. She comes down the stairs from her apartment to the office, finding the rest of her fellow investigators also awake.
After Amelia's declaration that the dog is actually a walking corpse, she says, "That's certainly troubling... and very interesting! The game is afoot! We should follow the undead dog."
Once everyone is ready, she follows the beast's tracks.
The bloody paw prints of the pitiful dog are easily followed and, after rounding the first corner, they turn down an alley. However, the sight within the alley... once the group past the first twist, is one of horror rather than pity. Lying on the cold cobbles of the street, face up, his face a death mask of fear and pain, is a Constable of the Watch, his throat savagely torn out. The blood pooled around his still form is the source of the paw prints, and many more are scattered around the scene as a pack of emaciated hounds - four in total, and in varying states of decay and purefaction - worries at the corpse.
Amelia grimaces as everyone runs out after the obvious trap. "Obvious trap is obvious, let's stick our tender bits in it. F!@#*@ng morons..." She says under her breath, her normal air of control momentarily slipping. Lilly grins evilly at the slip.
Before she leaves, she grabs the chest and shoves it into her backpack and shoulders it. "Alright Lilly, let's go rescue them. By the time we get there, they should be getting nicely skinned by the friendly undead doggies."
She closes and locks the door on the way out.
"Bet I can make them wizz their pants..." Lilly says in a sing song and very happy voice. However, the spirit's eyes are glowing with red fire now, and bloody tears are beginning to drip down her face as she solidifies, taking on a tangible presence on the material plane.
As they walk out the door, bloody cuts begin to appear on her body, each beginning to weep small bloody tears. Her outline, normally a ghostly blue-white begins to darken and take on arterial red hues.
the dog led us here... seemingly on purpose... could be they're friendly, or at least controlled by someone who'd like us to succeed... no sense taking chances, I suppose.
Elliomander charges a cartridge, levels his gun at the nearest dog, and pulls the trigger.
,
The booming retort from Elliomander's gun shatters the silence of the night as it echoes around the alleyway... and out into the sleeping homes of East Ending. Howling noiselessly and wreathed in white hot flame, the long dead dogs charge the living...
Demonstrating little regard for anyone sleeping nearby, Elliomander charges another cartridge and sends it thundering down the alley at the dog nearest his initial target before backing up behind some of his companions.
,
.
Mama casts a quick spell and a handful of fire appears in her left hand. She tosses the flame at the nearest dog. "So sorry, pups. Least Mama can do is out you out of your misery.". After throwing the flame, another fire appears in her outstretched palm.
RTA
Fire damage
Aflame, one of the undead curs collapses in a heap of burning meat before it has even moved away from the downed officer... whilst the remaining three, one of whom is brightly alight, charge towards the group. Mama Frill, maybe taken aback by the sudden attack, throws her tossed flame too high... it splashes on a nearby tin roof where, after smouldering for a moment, it splutters and dies.
Vera takes a glass flask from her satchel and throws it at the undead hound in the middle of the pack. The glass shatters, spreading sticky oil which bursts into flames upon contact with the air.
She then draws her rapier.
Vera's flask arcs through the air and crashes into the clumsily moving hound in the centre of the pack... it too, long dead and desiccated, catches alight. Baying noiselessly, the pack of hounds rush at the group... a hideous nightmare vision of animated animal cadavers, aflame and crazed, bounding along the cobbles of the narrow alleyway...
Leaping at Vera, the quickest of the hounds - still furiously alight - bites into her wrist... its teeth sink deep into flesh and, as a coldness spreads up her arm, she is wrestled to the ground...
The other two hounds rush towards Mama Frill, who ducks easily out of the way, and Elliomander... Snapping at his feet, the only hound not on fire finds Elliomander's unarmoured flesh... and clamps down hard with surprising ferocity...
...and from somewhere beyond the alleyway, whistles can be heard echoing around the streets - the telltale sound of the Office of the Watch...
Amelia arrives, and reaches out to touch her spirit companion. "Against blades and misfortune Guard, Against arrows and insults Ward." She says as her hand glows briefly.
Gar scrambles down the street, the sleep still clinging to his eyes. His untied boot laces slap against his leg as his feet pound the cobblestones in a desperate race to keep up with the others. It's a shame he didn't have time to don that blasted armor, but at least he can run quickly.
"Ragathiel damn them!" he swears, taking his Lord's name in vain as he fumbles to unsheath his bastard sword.
Thundering into the battle, he rears back and takes a heavy swing at the hounds threatening Vera.
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As Lilly approaches, blood begins to flow freely from her eyes, streaking down her face, and her eyes burst into flames completely, becoming burning pits in her face. A hideous scream releases from her throat, like a damned soul in hell! As she stalks forward toward the undead dogs, her body begins to show the signs of stitches, holding it together in a crazy criss-cross pattern, as if someone had found her in hundreds of pieces and sewed her back together like a grisly jigsaw puzzle.
With each step, the stitches begin to pop and tear, each one letting loose a wail of despair that rapidly turns into screeches of anger. The small girl's body disintegrates, individual pieces dismembered from one another, held together by a pulsing red blood that scintellates with pulses of angry red light. Her face is in five pieces, or her torso in a dozen, ribs showing through, internal organs stretched out through the air. By the time the amalgam of blood and organs and body parts reaches the first dog near Vera, an unholy light burns between the parts and it's nearly as big as Gar.
Gar's attempt to swat the piteous creature that dragged Vera to the floor is compromised by the fact that the investigator, with poison slowing her movement, lies sprawled where Gar's weapon is about to strike... at the last moment, he averts his blade and the hound survives what would surely have been a killing blow.
...any victory, were such an abomination to be comprehending of the notion, is short-lived though as Lilly - a sight one hundred times more hideous than that presented by the hounds - hovers over the burning creature - crashing down against the hound, she crushes it against the cobbled ground... bones shattering as the 'life' finally leaves the corpse...
[ooc]Waiting on actions from Mama Frill, Elliomander and Vera - 2 hounds left, neither aflame - 1 attacked Mama Frill, 1 attacked Elliomander./ooc]
Mama takes a 5' step away from the undead hound, and then throws another handful of fire at the threatening beast. "Now you all get along, and leave us living folk to our business!". After throwing the flame, another fire appears in her outstretched palm.
RTA
Fire damage
so she can have this horrible gore spirit living in her but I get sh!t if anyone finds out that centuries ago one of my ancestors was a fiend... unbelievable...
A confused and frustrated Elliomander tries to level his trusty firearm at the nearest dog and immediately becomes more confused and far more frustrated as his body refuses to comply. He struggles more and more furiously to make any movement at all but finds himself utterly unable to do so...
Mama Frill, dancing backwards from the snapping jaws of the animated hound, tosses an orb of flame towards it... crashing against its flanks, the fire erupts around the bone-dry meat of the hound as, with a final noiseless howl towards the sky, the dog collapses.
Vera shouts in pain and alarm as the burning undead dog rips into her arm. A feeling of lethargy courses through her, but she manages to shake it off. She then draws her rapier and skewers it.
Rolling away from the snapping jaws of the hound and freeing her rapier as she does so, Vera drives the lethally sharp blade upwards through the cracked skull of the remaining hound... devoid of sentience and with no concept of flight from overwhelming odds, the undead continues in its attack
Whilst the whistling, coming from several directions now, grows louder...
Gar spits toward the hound before impaling its skull from above.
Amelia moves up with her scythe just as Gar smashes the last hound. Dropping her scythe almost immediately, she reaches out to stroke the bloody hair of Lilly, and begins to sing softly. Her fingers move from body part to body part, as if she were moving something from one to another. As she does, her voice echoes in the alley way, a sad song and melody. As the song continues, a golden needle begins to glow in her fingers, and silver threads begin to connect the various parts of Lilly's body, slowly pulling them together again.
Finally, the small girl's body is sewn together again, the silver threads tightening and sinking in to her flesh and finally vanishing. The girl still has bloody tears on her face, and Amelia hugs her tightly as the song comes to an end. With the finally words echoing int he alley, Lilly vanishes in a puff of blue-white dust and sinks into Amelia.
Open up your lonely mansion
With a bloody tear in every room
All I want's to ease your pain
Beneath the halo moon
Silver threads and golden needles
Let me mend this heart of thine
Come with me and drown your sorrows
In the warm glow of my mind
You think you shouldn't be happy
That no one hears your name
And hide yourself in anger
While you play your bloody game
Silver threads and golden needles
Let me mend this heart of thine
Come with me and drown your sorrows
In the warm glow of my mind
I can't buy your love with money
'Cause I never any sort of kind
Silver threads and golden needles
Let me mend this heart of thine
Silver threads and golden needles
Let me mend this heart of thine
Come with me and drown your sorrows
In the warm glow of my mind
Let me mend this heart of thine...
Let me mend this heart of thine...
...with a blow that is crushing in its finality, Gar brings down his weapon - splinters of bone and of the cobbles beneath the slain hound are flung in a halo around the melee. Moving quickly towards the Officer of the Watch lying in the centre of the alleyway, it is immediately obvious that there is nothing that can be done for him - his throat is ripped on and shreds of flesh lie scattered around where the hounds were feeding from the corpse.
A quick examination of the corpse, before the watch arrive, shows nothing unexpected - an Office of the Watch shield pinned to a long blue coat, a night stick, a police whistle, a standard issue short sword that never got drawn, and a coin pouch. As the group consider the scene, golden lantern light starts to flicker along the alleyway... the watch are seconds away...
Melody
Vera picks herself up, brushing off the filth from the alley and the burned chunks of undead dog-flesh. "That could have gone better."
She then marvels at the care Amelia shows toward her foul-mouthed phantom friend.
Glancing at the signs of the approaching watch, Vera asks the party, "So... do we give a report or do we make ourselves scarce...? I vote for the latter."
Amelia stands up, after retrieving her scythe. The blood on her begins evaporate slowly as the ectoplasm it is made of fades. All around, the blood Lilly bled fades as well. "Go, I'll stay and give the watch a report. As a bounty hunter, I can't chance getting the guild in trouble with the watch."
As Vera, and anyone else who chooses to make themselves scarce, slip unseen down a side-alley and quietly make their way - following a circuitous route -back to her premises, Amelia is already facing questions from a red-faced, and rather overweight, officer. "Now then miss... It's Miss Blackheart isn't it? How about you tell me what happened here tonight... And no fancy talk young lady, I'm meant to be clocking off in an hour and instead I've got a dead officer, a load of burning dog corpses and, worse still, every soul between here and Saint Barnabas's has been woken by your explosions... Care to explain those?"
Wearily, the officer takes a notepad from his cloak, wets the nib of his pencil and awaits Amelia's response...