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"Miss me miss me now you gotta kiss me! Hihihi!" Harlequin laughs. The laugh however quickly takes a weird turn and the smile on his face widens beyond simply mirth. From a comical you were familiar with his smile and facial expression twists between enjoyment and fury as he swings his nodachi at the creature with abandon.
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"I did not realize your tastes were to this type, Mr. Jester. I could introduce you to a lichess I know, or a drider, if that would be more to your tastes. We'd have to go back to my homeland though..."
Harlequin's taunts seem to fall on a creature with a discernible lack of ears, but which does have a very squishy body to slice. The nodachi chops deeply into the giant thing and with a keening noise, it collapses in a rush of gore and fluids.
Aside from the sound of the fluid and gurgling from the corpse, the place is silent.
The prof will bend and look more closely at the creature, taking notes and thinking aloud.
"Does it lay eggs? Hmm very interesting..."
Risbeth steps to the door.
"Lovelies, the spider thing is dead. Is there more than one? If not, when we are gone, you can feast on it's remains. If there are, then let me know and I'll add to the feast."
The same large rat you saw earlier steps out of a patch of high grass.
Risbeth looks over her shoulder. "You guys don't want to eat spider worm do you? The rats want to know if you want any of the meat before I give it to them."
"No lovely, we appreciate your help, and will give you the meat. Your warning was helpful. Also, if you know of anything else we should be warned about, we'd appreciate that."
The rat rolls his shoulders, a rattish shrug.
Searching through the hanging bodies and in the slightly claustrophobic den below yields a potion, a ring decorated with angels' wings, 721 gp worth of assorted coinage and a bloodstained envelope, still sealed.
Risbeth hands all the stuff over to the Professor. "I would suggest you look over everything and make sure none of it is magically trapped or cursed? In the meantime, we should exit and allow the lovelies to eat their meal. Being in here while they feed might not be safe, they'll be a bit hungry and might bite by accident."
Risbeth heads out of the tower, and then calls to the Rats letting them know din din is ready now.
"Oh, and our friends warned me that there are some wolves who walk as men in the woods. None nearby, but we should watch for them, near the full moon."
"Werewolves? Great. Can I see that envelope while you take a look at the potion and ring Professor?", Sonny says as he walks outside.
"Oh, wonderful idea, my dear!"
The prof scans the area with detect magic then focuses on the items found.
Caesare will help the professor.
The potion turns out to be a potion of heroism. The ring is a ring of feather falling. The envelope, once it is carefully opened, turns out to be a letter of reservation to the Ascanor Lodge for the week prior, made on behalf of one Echtmoor Dravin, a minor nobleman.
The Professor verifies that the magic items are safe and uncursed, and leaving the rats to their feast, you decide to head onward.
Another two days pass before you come across anything out of the ordinary. The pale corpse of a naked man hangs from a large yellow pine, bound to the trunk with rough cords. His mouth is stuffed with large, pale purple flowers, and his wrists and ankles are swollen and dark with bruises marking where his bindings cut into his skin, but the large silver hunting knife embedded deep in his heart seems the most likely cause of death.
He hangs on a tree 10 feet from the side the road.
Risbeth tilts her head, looking at the corpse. Then she shrugs, and continues on, keeping an eye on the rest of the forest in case of ambush.
Risbeth notices that there seems to be a tripwire hidden around the base of the tree. She follows them with her eyes to several crossbows cleverly aimed to blast a half dozen bolts at anyone foolish enough to approach without disarming the trap.
Risbeth waits for the fools to start walking over, and then puts a restraining hand on the shoulder of whoever starts over. "You should probably disarm the trap and take the cross-bows before going over there..."
Being pulled back by Risbeth, Sonny stops and looks. "I see. Thank you. Traps aren't my thing. Could you disarm this Caesare? I'd like to examine the body and the knife might be useful."
After the trap is disarmed Sonny examines the body and makes sure it's dead dead.
"Of course sonny. Let me have a look".
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Harlequin moves to the body and prods it with his fingers, imitating Sonny in an exaggerated fashion as he performs his own examination.
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Augustus wanders around, scanning the area for magic auras.
Caesare disarms the trap with a few moments' deft work. The body seems to have flowers stuffed into the mouth, which Harlequin recognizes as wolfsbane, a herb used to sicken werewolves. Evidently someone thought he was a werewolf!
There doesn't seem to be any magic around the area, but the silver dagger proves to be a masterwork silver dagger if you care to take it.
"Hmm... I once read a treatise about trolls. That they are very hard to kill, well at least permanently, but if you drown them... they stay dead. Maybe hanging... if you do not break the neck but do it in such a way to suffocate the victim, could also prevent the healing!"
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"Right train of thought, but you derailed all the way Caesare. It is wolfsbane, something you would stick in a werewolf's mouth." Harlequin says waggling his finger like a teacher.
"Don't worry, you will get it right some time. I know it is sooooo hard seeing the difference between a troll and a human." He continues as he pats Caesare's head dottingly.
He proceeds to the body and removes some of the flowers and the silver knife, tossing both to Caesare. "Might be useful in these woods." He finishes with a wink.
"My dear, jester contrary to your believes, I am quite on target... but it seems I did leave to many of the obvious things unsaid for you to fully understand. I aplogize and will use simpler phrases in the future!" Taking the flowers but throwing the dagger right back the inquisitor pats the dagger at his side. "This one is quite better!"
Three more days of travel finally finds you approaching a large hunting lodge nestled in the woods. The lodge itself is surrounded by a tall iron wall, and warriors bearing pole arms guard the closed gate. As you approach, one of the warriors, a tall woman with a shaved head calls out to you. "Who approaches Ascanor Lodge? State your business!"
Sonny steps to the front of the group, "My name is Sonny Wright of Sarenrae. We were sent by Judge Daramid to speak with the Warden here, Estovion Lozarov. We have letters of introduction for the Warden. May we please enter?"
Risbeth idly looks for weaknesses in the wall.
She walks up to the wall, and taps on a seam between sheets of steel. "Hey, you should get someone to fix this, one good hit right here, and you'll have a breach in your wall."
"Professor, this is quite heavely armored for a forest hunting lodge! What do you think, were the walls down with magic?"
"Good question, my dear Caesare!" Mumbling a few arcane words, Augustus switches his arcane vision mode.
The guard frowns, more so when you point out a weakness in the wall's strength. She steps back, speaking in a low tone to another guard, who runs off toward the Lodge.
"We were not expecting you. I've sent for the porter. He'll be here shortly." She makes no move to open the gates to you.
After a few minutes, a thin man with the air of someone who is constantly busy comes out to the gate. He bows his head to you, and introduces himself as the porter, Belik of Courtaud. He asks to see the letter of introduction. Reading them, he sighs.
“I apologize for any misunderstanding, but as the porter of Ascanor Lodge, I cannot permit your entrance at this time. You do not have reservations in our books, and despite your claims, I have no evidence to justify allowing strangers into the lodge. From the looks of you, unlike the rest of my guests, you haven’t come here to take a peaceful retreat. I want no trouble, so off with you all, and take whatever troubles you bring somewhere else!” You can see a number of people watching the conversation at the gate with interest from windows, most of them with curious looks on their faces.
Sonny clears his throat and reassures the porter of your good intentions. It takes a few moments (using Sonny's excellent diplomacy roll from above), but he finally agrees, sighing deeply. "It's not that I'm against guests," he says in a low voice, trying not to be overheard, "but things are rather..." He's interrupted by two men coming from the Lodge toward the gate, followed by hirelings.
A rough-and-tumble-looking woodsman heads for the gate, followed by a young noble dressed in finely tailored, studded hunting leathers. Despite the commotion, the two men push through the crowd, oblivious to anyone else’s concerns. Several scruffy-looking hirelings follow behind them leading a pair of horses and carrying wooden crates marked with heraldic symbols. As they shuffle past, the woodsman calls back to the noble, “For the last time Duristan! I’ll take you there, but I ain’t bringing my dogs!”
Looking upon the coats of arms, Augustus declares "Never was my cup of tea..."
Duristan badgers the woodsman for all sorts of information—whether there were any howls or footprints, whether the woodsman tried to track the prints around the carcass, and whether he measured any of the claw or bite marks on the body. Almost in mid-sentence, Duristan catches sight of you all and sizes you up. He calls to you, “You there! Fall in with me, I need more able sword-arms for the hunt!”
Risbeth looks down at her arms. "I do not, good sir, have sword arms. I have human arms. I do not believe any of my companions have sword arms. I'm not sure we even have that many swords... The jester has a sword, sort of." She turns to the Professor. "Professor, have you ever heard of a race of people with swords for arms? Mother had several golems with swords for arms, and axes, a few cross-bows, and one with a morning star." She turns to Caesare. "Do you think he has a fixation on swords the size and shape of arms to make up for something else that's not quite long and hard enough?" She asks him in a stage whisper.
The professor blinks several times, clearly not getting the point.
"I... I don't have sword arms!"
After a little moment and the answer from Risbeth, he thinks about it and his face eventually lightens. "Oh, my dear! I think this was a metaphor! Indeed, this good man mistook us for mercenaries of some sort..."
Trying to lecture the man, Augustus adds with a calm smile "Not all good things come from steel. A lot come from aether, void and... magic of course!"
Duristan seems momentarily taken aback, his mouth open. Then he seems to redden, looking embarrassed. He splutters, "Oh my, my deepest apologies! I mistook you for wandering mercenaries, there's quite a few who stop by here, looking for work. I was a bit overexcited, you see, I'm hunting werewolves! And Delgros here just returned from a hunt where they found signs of a werewolf attack on a great hind they were tracking. Please, allow me to beg your forgiveness, but your experience would be of a great help to me on this hunt. If you agree to come, I'll pay for your accomodations at the Lodge and a feast tonight after we return! My name is Duristan Silvio Ariesir. Will you help me?"
In the midst of the commotion you notice that the porter has disappeared, heading back to the Lodge.
Sonny looks at the retreating porter and then addresses Duristan, "My name is Sonny Wright, and while ridding that sort of evil from the world is noble, we have another task here that we must speak with the Warden about."
Looking at Sonny, Caesare whispers in his ear."If we join him, we gain a friend, not an enemy." Speaking up the investigator looks at his friends."I can not speak for all, but I think a few hours more or less won´t be that bad. And we would benefit from your first hand experience in this woods."
Risbeth shrugs. "I have no real reason to hunt down a were. Unless there's a bounty on it's head."
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Harlequin throws an arm around Risbeth's shoulder. "Oh but there are reasons a plenty my dear sucker of bodily fluids. Think of the challenge, the adventure, the excitement and how good a hat a werewolf skull would make!" Harlequin says enthusiastically.
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The young nobleman looks confused. "Are you coming or not?"
Sonny looks at Caesare and sighs, "You do make valid points even if it distracts from our mission." He then looks at each person in their group and then turns to the young noble, "If no one objects to our going, we can help you rid this area of this evil."
"Indeed, we can, we can! But I do have a question: do you happen to have a wizard of some sort in your castle? I am an old man and would enjoy a talk with a fellow researcher." answers Augustus. Seeing the interrogative faces of the young noble man, he adds with a smile "The old man that I am always craves for unknown lore and recent discoveries."
"My castle? I mean I own a manor house, but do you mean here at the Lodge? It's not mine, I just stay here. But the Warden of the Lodge seems bookish..." The young noble looks confused, but please that you've agreed to accompany him!
Duristan turns to the huntsmaster, Delgros, who sighs and leads the way into the forest. The trail leads to a small clearing, where the trampled ground and snapped brush show signs of a great struggle. The soil is soaked with blood, and more has splashed upon the tree trunks and leaves. Despite the telltale evidence, Delgros’s jaw drops and his eyes dart wildly with shock at the situation. “It’s gone!” he cries.
in the clearing, besides those of the stag. Frustratingly, most are only partial prints and all are badly trampled. The most striking are large wolf like prints, twice the size of a typical wolf ’s prints. You note a swath of crushed scrub and brush, as if something had been dragged off into the wood. You can easily follow the trail.
Risbeth sighs and tags along. "I still see no reason to kill a werewolf unless it's actively being a nuisance."
"Lot of tracks... two sets at least... really big for a dog... going off that way..." She points off along a very obvious trail of drag marks.
"Hmm, it seems we will encounter some dire animals. Fascinating"