Pal Arkadi leans heavily on his thin walking stick and pulls out a tarnished old ear trumpet to listen. He nods as mulls over your groups words; all-the-while the wheezing tune of the ancient priest’s breathing creates a lulling mantra.
At the mention of wolves the old man scowls a little…
”[I]Volves eh! Ne'er heard zheir howls! Podaga taught me to keep zhe farkasok from the kapualj Igen!”
At the mention of Old Kostya he looks bemused and looks toward the fresh grave;
”Old Kostya you say? Temették him yesterday ve did… no wait vas it zhe day before? No wait… it vas Old Yurt we temették… Yes Old Yurt… I zhink…”
At Mikel’s question he looks even more confused;
”Happened before?! No… Old Yurt hass only meghalt zhe once… Holt stay holt… Vell mostly… there was zhat vne summer in 4640 (or was it 51?) vhen Stimmal… aye Stimmal found a Sárga-kúszónövény tree… I vass a young man zhen you see… Hale and hearty! Could rut like a bak and fight like a medve back zhen!”
He licks his lips and stands a little taller before again mulling the question;
”Apologies. Vhat is it you asked? How does it happen? Death?? Ahhh my boy halál as ve say comes ind many guises… but here ind Levoča it is zhe seasons, zhe wild or on occasion ind centuries past zhe Pusty Lokaj of course…”
Your spirit sense can detect nothing untoward nor concerning. No communication is forthcoming from Old Yurt’s grave.
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Niklos is not much for talking, instead keeping his words to himself as the others speak to Arkadi.
Selste steps forward with an odd gait as if pushed. She rolls her eyes as if to look behind her, before asking in a dull tone, "What is your experience with the Pusty Lokaj in this town? Is it more story and knock on wood, or has there been a physical presence?"
"What did Podaga teach you that keeps the farkasok from the kapualj?"
The old man first nods at Seleste's question, then shakes his head afore gently shrugging his narrow, bowed shoulders;
"The Pusty Lokaj? Igen... Igen... We have all heard of the "Hollow Man" but nem... none living have seen him. Is he real? Is he mese? Heh... The meses say he is... but who knows? Not me. Nem not me..."
At Leith's query the old man baulks;
"Respektál... Nem boszorkányság young one... Podaga's vords fall on deaf ears but some things can be heard by those who hallgat... The trickling laugh of zhe brook, zhe groaning song of zhe tree, zhe mournful howl of zhe farkasok..."
Leith listens to the old man's answer, his face slowly adopting a skeptical cast. "So, Podaga taught you that the key to keeping the farkasok from your door is to listen to it's howl? Let me guess: once you can hear the howl at your doorstep, you use the key to lock the door?"
"Focus old man". "I'm asking if the attacks, and strange behavior of the beasts has happened before". "And if so, how were they averted". "Obviously your silly scarecrow statues, aren't working, so we can't help if you don't remember".
Mikels interrupted sleep, and lack of a decent breakfast have obviously made him grumpy.
"Now tell me what you know about this...Hollow man...
The old man beams at Leith's deduction;
Igen! Exactly! I zenze another of Podoga's facsemeték ready to grow into a tölgy finom before me!"
The ancient priest wags his finger and smiles, showing toothless gums.
He eyes Mikel then bows slightly;
"Ov course Én Uram ... No zhe animals both vad and tame have never sought to trouble zhe folk of Levoča..."
Pap Arkadi pats the noble swordsman on his shoulder with concern upon his wrinkled face and wavering voice;
"How can I remember what is forgotten? Nor forget vhat is not remembered eh young úr ! Vhat I can recall is zhat here in Zhe Vad if you stir the lódarazsak nest you expect to get stung... If you threaten zhe anyamedve she will bite! If you make a pörkölt with deathcap then expect to never do so again hah! Yet Zhe Vad never seeks to trouble our hearths... Most különös it is... Mmmmm...."
At the mention of the "Hollow Man" the old priest once again smiles;
"Zhe Pusty Lokaj? Just a ostoba scarecrow nem ?"
Niklos simply says "Something drove the wolves in... man, beast or other being..."
"Well I guess we have three options". "Step up the defense of the village, and try to take them here". "Try to track them, and look for the source of their anger". "Or, move on to our next destination, and leave them to fend for themselves". "I am good with either choice".
"In the mean time, I'm going to walk about the village, and see if I can detect anything...unusual".
At Niklos' taciturn response the old man strains at his ear trumpet;
"Ahhhhh. You may be onto szomething legény . Podaga has never szent Zhe Vad into our village before... Vhy now indeed?! Vhy Vhy!?? Mmmmm??"
When the noble Mikel chimes in, he once again leans in wearing a quizzical expression;
"Whose "zhem" son? Zhe wolves? Zhe Vad. Heh..."
Pap Arkadi barks a hacking laugh that descends into a coughing fit before he recovers;
"Hahhhhh-h-h-h-h-h-h-hrrrchhhhh! Good luck fighting Zhe Vad Én Uram ... ... for fog , köröm , branch and root it will batter zour armour and muddy zour fine cloak... Unusual in our village? Look to the strange jövevény !!! Most különös they are! Heh...."
The ancient man stops mid laugh and eyes Selene, before nodding once and leaning in to whisper to her;
"My dear. Your other friends have rightly reminded me of an old wives tale;"
The one sure way to tell if the baby-eating Striga of the Vad is at
hand is to watch your milk... If it curdles suddenly, then she is near.
If so, never answer a knocking on your door at midnight, for it is
sure to be her Pusty Lokaj come to collect your head!
"Thank them for longer memories than this old head of mine. Heh. Look to the oldest doors in the village my dear... mine own included... they may help you all knock on wood... Heh."
The priest pats the Oracle on the shoulder, nods to you all then hobbles back toward his door closing it slowly with a smile...
Seleste walks out muttering something about "....who needs another ancient crazy...
Looking at her companions, "Let's go talk with the bull. Somehow, I suspect it to be a bit more sensible."
Niklos follows on as the group moves towards a more bovine distraction.
Keara doesn't utter a word after her first exchange with Pap Arkadi. Her expression slowly changes from one of hopefulness, to perplexity, to doubt, and in the end pure, utter dismay.
And this senile old man is supposed to help us!? I don't think he even understands who we are and what we're trying to do!...
When Arkadi closes his door in their faces, she remains there, almost transfixed, with an incredulous look on her face. She snaps out of it only when Seleste mentions the bull, and promptly starts following her, hoping that lead will prove less frustrating than the last.
No following his cryptic advice about looking to the doors? ;)
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Leaving the house, Seleste will bid farewell to the door guardians. She knocks to the carved door trim to make sure they are awake. "Don't let him stray too far, he might find it hard to remember to come back." She calls into the house thinking she might have confused the old man, "That was just me Papa, we are leaving, thank you.
She meanders through the village, passing house entries, and muttering to herself. "...if someone is prowling at night, they would know....if they are awake...lazy guardians..."
As you move away from the door, you notice a carving frozen in a retching motion (something you are sure you never noticed before)... On the ground in front of the gaping guardian lies a long nail of shining metal...
Baffled and perhaps no further forward in understanding the strange malady of The Wild that affects the village, your group trudges toward the farm where this "killer bull" resides...
As you approach you see a strange scene; a young man loading a cart with furniture and assorted belongings. Near the side of the steading a large hunting spear stands impaled upon the earth...
Sweating from his labours, red cheeked and red eyed in equal measure, the farm lad barely registers your collective footfall. With a curt nod he greets your arrival, before continuing to load more of the household items...
Seleste will stoop after saying her farewell and lift something small from the ground. While on her meander, she will examine the small nail she had picked up.
Once at the farm, Seleste will mumble, "Sorry about your Pa." But her eyes soon rove to look about for the animal yard.
Leith warily eyes the lad while trying to decipher the scene at the farm before him.
Mikel watches the man pack with interest. "So". "Leaving town are you"? "I'm sure you don't have room to take everything with you, so if you have some stuff unspoken for, I'll be glad to guard it for you". "And if you need someone to house sit until you return...well...
Niklos gestures to the spear "Not good to leave it out like this... will rust or worse."
The young man eyes your group, afore nodding at Mikel's question, his voice clipped and strained;
"I am Lord... leaving today... now. You want this place? It's yours... Atkozott as it is... Since the bull took my papa, there's semmi for me itt ..."
He throws the last pack, then grab's the spear from the earth - his eyes wet once again in response to Niklos;
"I know... Just need to use it once more, then I go..."
The youth turns, the spear clearly awkward in his hands as he stomps toward the paddock at the back of the steading. Your eyes look beyond to where a large bull stands, docile and chewing cud...
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"Wait!" Seleste goes to follow. To stop him. And grows to 10 feet high and takes a big step to block his path. "Oh, um, sorry, didn't mean for that to happen.." Her cheeks bright red.
She shrinks back down in statue, and in a sheepish voice asks, "Would you like answers more than revenge? Would you like to ask the bull why it did what it did? I can do that if you let me, but he is your bull."
Turning to look at the bull, she finds it easier to express her thoughts, "Someone or something seems to compel the animals in this village and the Woods to go wild. Your bull, normally docile I take it, suddenly went wild, didn't he. I would at least like to hear his thoughts on the matter before you kill him and your livelihood. I have a way with animals, I can talk to him in a manner of speaking."
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"Ohhh, let's go watch". "I believe Seleste is going to talk some bull".
Niklos finds a nearby tree or stoop to lean against and watches proceedings as they proceed.
Still perplexed by their encounter with the bizarre Pap Arkadi, Keara keeps unusually quiet and lets Seleste do the talking.
Fearful and fascinated by Seleste's display and offer, the young farmer nods and lowers his spear wearing a confused look;
"Speak to the bull if you wish... My Apa used to speak to the brute, afore it turned on him... Never spoke back though... but he loved it none-the-less... more than me even!"
The youth utters a melancholy laugh at the memory, then wipes tears from his eyes;
"I'm Drashovik... Drash to those that know me... Speak to the bull if you like..."
Leith moves over to the enclosure and climbs atop the stone wall. He sits crosslegged upon the wall. He pulls out a whetstone from his pouch and draws his sword. Staying aware of the bull, he begins to sharpen his blade.
As Seleste enters the bull's enclosure it is clear the beast is both wary and nervous of the ethereal air that the druid possesses.
She moves to stand before the mighty beast, and while it does not charge nor attack, the bovine brute carves furrows with its hoof as it snorts and blusters.
Through the use of her innate magicks Seleste is able to first placate the bull, then engage with it in what appears to be conversation...
The druid nods, mutters and fidgets her way through the next 5 minutes, whilst the bull, for its part, huffs and bellows in response.
Selene finishes the parley with a curtsey (prompted apparently by her unseen counsel) and returns to the group to impart the following:
"So a singer in the woods". "I wonder if other animals are affected by this"? "Perhaps we could use one to lead us to this "singing".
The bull's tale is a similar one told by your lion companion
"It makes them think of what they could and not what they are... any wolves will be dangerous with that inspiration."
"Couldn't we just listen for singing ourselves?"
"We have been here when there was singing, supposedly, with the wolves. The farm cats, this bull, no one reported hearing singing. I don't think it has been meant for us...for now."
"Ah, but was there singing when the wolves attacked or was it that the wolves had been subjected to singing before raiding the town?"
Drashovik listens intently, the bull seemingly vindicated, yet he still seems resolved to leave the village behind.
With reluctance he looks to the loaded cart, then closes the cottage's door for the last time.
You notice, that imbedded in the wooden door is a similar nail as was recovered from Pap Arkadi's doorway
The emotional young farmer sighs, then turns to the group;
"Well that's me. Might come back one day... but doubt it... Unless any o' ye wish to make me an kínálat for the place? 50 Dolya gets you the bull... 60 both hus and bull..."
Pointing to the door, Leith remarks, "Does that price include the nail in the door?"
Seleste comes out of her thoughts at Leith's words, ""Nail?" She pulls the previous nail out of her pouch and crosses over to the door to compare them. "Did you or your Pa put this here?" She calls over to the young man.
"Pap's house had a similar nail, but the house rejected it...as it were." Scratching at it with her finger, Seleste mutters, "Go ahead then and tell me if spirits are attached to it...don't tell me you are going to do it."
The young farmer nods in recognition of Leith's question;
"Aye... it does... Those nails are supposed to be sok szerencsét charms in this elátkozott place..."
Drashovik spits once at his own words;
"... never gave us any luck eh Apa ? So any vállalók ?"
Grim faced he then climbs aboard his cart, as the draught horse paws the ground impatiently.
Your spiritual examination reveals nothing more from the nails, other than they are ancient and of a heaven-fallen metal hard enough to split any wood ...
"So what's our next step". "I'm all for leaving these dirty peasants to their curse, and heading onward". "Doesn't seem to be much profit here".
Mikel kicks a rock down the lonely road.