"And on average, that's fair," Tuck replies, undeterred, with a grin at Robin, "Of course, you're the one that deserves to be ostracized, you Grugach. Say, have you ever heard the term before? Ever been called by that name? Or is it a local term?" Tucker shakes his head thoughtfully. "I don't know if these things are really elves or something else entirely. The people around here probably wouldn't know. They're awfully isolated, by both geography and their own minds. I recommend staying on the alert. This may not be as simple as it seems." He kicks the donkey into motion ahead of Brock's wagon.
"They best be careful, don't want to be completely worn out." she says as she somehow keeps a straight face.
"Pity about the father being in denial about everything, well that's how some people cope." Mari shrugs, enjoying the morning's light.
|
Billy chuckles and smiles pleasantly towards Marianne when she comes towards him "Ya think I got ulterior motives dahlin? Can' be just that I thought doin some dishes wit you was more fun than goin up ta Fire-Tiger's room?"
"Ooooh always give me shivers when ya touch me" He teases and winks towards Mari as she touches his hand to her forehead. He then goes off to climb up on Rudy. "I know ya turned Tuck down, but if ya get tired o' walkin I'm shure Rudy can carry us both. Might be more temptin than the Tuckster's ol donkey. No offense donkey."
Billy grins towards Robinet "I dunno about Alan, but I'm feelin fine, so don't have ta worry about me." He glances towards Alan "If ya feel like ya need a break ya let us know yeah?"
"You ain't got ulterior motives. They are quite clear to me." she chuckles. "Just wanting me to sit on your lap, in case something comes up."
Dog-trotting to the front, past the wagon and near Tuck, she looks to the sky and then to the dense forest. Something seems very wrong, the stillness of the place is an anathema to it slowly reclaiming the civilisation.
"That I cannot do," Alan says with a wan smile, gently grabbing Tanasha-Lu's shoulders. "If Ossington is to be freed, I must be there with my companions. I'll have you know, that while Robinet is our dear leader, that I am the strongest of our troop. Amazing, right? They simply can't handle things without me. They're helpless!"
Noting that Tarbee's back is turned, Alan steals one last kiss before running off.
"That I cannot do," Alan says with a wan smile, gently grabbing Tanasha-Lu's shoulders. "If Ossington is to be freed, I must be there with my companions. I'll have you know, that while Robinet is our dear leader, that I am the strongest of our troop. Amazing, right? They simply can't handle things without me. They're helpless!"
"I understand. I don't see how any successful adventurers could be lead by a Gruga..., Ummm, Elf without a generous, noble, giving person like yourself to assist. Please do what you can for the people of Ossington, and perhaps when you're finished you might return to me?"
As you set out, Tanasha-Lu stands still as a statue, teary-eyed, in the middle of the road until she fades into the distance over the horizon. Not far ahead, the road makes a sudden, noticeable improvement. For starters, it straightens out considerably. It also gets wider and smoother. You no longer suffer any penalties for riding, running or overhead obstacles. As the trees draw back, they reveal a pair of standing stones on either side of the road. These are but the first in an avenue of such stones places about 30' apart, eventually leading into a large clearing in the woods. A huge circle of standing stones rings the clearing, set right against the surrounding trees as if they were holding back the forest. Inside this smaller circle is a small village, its cottages built right up against the menhirs. Between the 2 circles are abandon fields, once plowed, but now overgrown with weeds.
"This is Osington" announces Brock as you approach. The road you are following leads directly into the Village. Observation makes it clear that the village is occupied with people apparently going about their daily business.
Turning to Alan as they walk through the rough, but improving road; "Seems you left a mark." Mari comments wryly. Though she's surprised as they move further up the road how much it improves, certainly it not just the natural degradation of the arterial path from the village. 'It's like the road was reclaimed by the woods, wonder if it's some of the Grugach's doing?'
Her thoughts are derailed as she sees the Standing Stones, she'd heard stories about them and their amazing powers. Stopping she just stares at them, wondering.
"Hmmm. So far, so good. Where's the trouble come from, friend Brock?" Tuck inquires, looking around curiously.
|
|
Billy looks back towards Tanasha-Lu as Alan moves away from her, when he's sure they're out of earshot he turns towards the bardic adventurer "Wow, she got this act down nearly as good as you, y'know she ain't believe any o' that hullabaloo she's spoutin any more'n you do right? Dem teary eyes 're a nice touch too." He pauses for a moment then continues remembering something "I knew this broad once that could turn on the tears as easy as Rob here draws back a bowstring, made the best pick pocket pal y'ever did see. We'd find a nice smug fat-pursed noble type, an on go the waterworks, ya'd be surprised how hard it is ta just ignore a bawlin girl even if ya are some snooty noble. So ya'know she'd distract em and I'd lighten their load so ta speak" The young rogue grins in reminiscence "She wuz one crafty girl."
Looking towards the town when Brock indicates they've arrived he nods at Tuck's question and adds "An' what izzit exactly that ya want us to do?"
"Maybe," Alan says smugly, indifferent towards Billy's commentary. The rogue was just being a sore loser, the bard told himself. "I suppose I'll find out back on the way home. But a girl that age, living alone with her father? In that dump? Poor thing needed a bit of excitement. We - well, most I - were able to offer her that much." After a brief pause he continues. "My ma used to be that kind of girl. And well, let's just say that the whole thing backfired on her."
As he speaks, Alan's eyes wander, watching the village carefully.
|
|
Billy chuckles and nods at Alan "Yeah she wuz shure ready for sum excitement alright, but ya seem ta furget that I was the first choice, you were playin the second fiddle so to speak." He leans back in his saddle a bit teasing somewhat smugly "Once she asked me up ta her room the game wuz over, not a big deal ta give up the prize. I kin let ya have some of the easy ones now an then, prefer a tougher challenge anyway." He grins widely and glances towards Marianne to see if she's listening "Like Mari. 'm makin progress ya'know she ain't tell me ta Drop dead troll even once this week."
He considers making some kind of wisecrack about the the backfiring thing, but can't decide if Alan meant his mom was like Tanasha-Lu or his pickpocket pal. He also decides that whatever he says will most likely come out as a jab at the man's mother rather than Alan himself and everyone knows mothers are off limits.
One person points and shouts that there is are people coming down the road. As you approach closer, more and more people gather and soon a crowd forms. There could be upward of 50 people (all humans and halflings) that are prepared to greet you. All are dressed as peasants and farmers and are under-nourished. As you press forward the crowd begins begging incoherently for food, help and rescue. Despite the neediness of the crowd they take special measures to avoid Robinet at all costs.
Having kept near the front and being intrigued by the Stones that make up the surrounds of the village, Marianne declines to comment upon Billy's unheard remarks.
From her lofty stature she looks down at the people crowding around the group, having taken the lead she's well surrounded. Their hands seeming plucking at her fur coat and clothes in their desperation. However she's used to the crowds of the villages, as a child she was afeared of the large cities and cloying people - much preferring her homelands tundra and snow-plains. However as with all her fears she purposefully threw herself against them, in an attempt to over come them.
Cocking her hip and shoulders, to allow her to move through the people, she glances down at them with a kindly gaze. Checking to see if they had the same weird eyes as Brock, the slitted iris' that Alan described.
"We have come to help in your time of need..." She raises her voice to not quite a shout, but a firm tone filled with the passionate fires that burn throughout her. "However, we come with a heavy burden that we must deliver to you and queries that must be raised."
"Come forth Dyson, councillor. Hero, I name you."
You are clearly in no danger from the over enthusiastic welcome by this unarmed and rather pathetic mob. The moment is almost uncomfortable.
Marianne speaks. Her reply is met in song by singer strumming a lute, leaning against a tree at the back of the crowd. As soon as the tune begins, the surrounding crowd falls silent and parts like the red sea, leaving an opening between you and the singer through the crowd of people. It is a haunting tune. Even more notable is the man who is singing it. He is an unmistakably Human man, very finely dressed with an incredibly raspy, dry voice. The one defining feature that sets this person apart from nearly anybody you've ever met before is the mans incredible height. Its difficult to tell his exact height. He has a slouch from being so tall and he is leaning against a tree, but you figure he must be almost 8 feet tall.
Alan is just about to say something in defense of Tanasha-Lu's honor when they finally roll into town. The brief argument falls flat as the peasantry comes to greet them, all of them looking worse for wear. The swordsman frowns, the situation being far worse than he had anticipated. He tries his best to ignore the cacophony of pleas, not out of cruelty, but of sensibility. They did not have enough food to feed a whole village. His expression is lifted slightly by Marianne's bold introduction; it was a shame that the bard of their troop was the one who had been at a loss for words.
Just as he is about to deliver his own grandiose speech about heroism and duty however, his attention is grabbed by a somber song. Alan does not immediately notice its gigantic performer, his mind far too busy intoning the song, trying to decipher its meaning. Even his eventual realization of the singer stature does not make him waver - he was not about to interrupt a fellow musician.
Turning her hips and shoulders, with some concern for the emaciated figures that surround the group, Marianne moves through them like a spring brook cutting through the first thaw of snow.
As the music starts and the crowd parts, her movements instinctively reflect the tune with more of a saunter than her natural stalking. However she doesn't have Alan natural delicacy and appreciation of the music, she looks to Tuck and the others for a moment to see if they wish to interrupt.
Robinet watches the crowd closely as they approach. His heart breaks to see their condition and the plaintive nature of their pleas. Their shunning of him isn't a terrible surprise, but he sighs audibly nonetheless.
My fate wherever I go, I suppose, he thinks.
He dismounts Sherwed and follows in Marianne's wake. At her glance back, he nods for her to proceed forward but makes no indication of desiring to interrupt the music.
Moving forward, Robinet knows he is putting himself at the mercy of the crowd which will surround him and says a simple prayer to the gods under his breath that he will not have reason to regret this choice. He recalls an old legend about a shoemaker's son burned at the stake for lycanthropy despite the only "evidence" was his being a drunkard. Surely, these people would not be as blind as that. Robinet sighs again.
The little thrush flits out from it's resting place in Mari's furry hood and alights upon Robinets' shoulders it's wing tips brushing his pointed ears. "Don't look so glum chum. They just small and scared of your magnificence." the bird chirps softly into his ear.
|
|
Billy is pretty satisfied that Alan hasn't any further argument and he's won the conversation, however his attention is quickly taken by the crowd swarming up to them.
"Whoa... there's a boat load of them." The young black haired man sounds somewhat nervous "Backoff folks lemme through. Hey! no touching!" he puts his hand out as if it would keep the crowd away "No touching..."
He looks at Robinet dismounting and following after Mari, it would certainly be easier to navigate the crowd if he weren't riding yet Billy is very reluctant to leave the safety, or at least perceived safety, of Rudy "Rob I... uhh... I ain't so good wit crowds... y'know?"
Robinet glances back at Billy's call. He smiles gently and nods his acceptance. He reaches up a hand and caresses the thrushes chest feathers with the back of his forefinger.
"I appreciate your faith in me, dear avian," Robinet says softly. "I hope we are able to find a way to help these poor souls."
Then Robinet waits patiently for the musician to finish his song.
None of the other villagers have the same eyes as Brock. Every villager here is unmistakably normal, save for some strange quirks. Its the small, little details. Buck-teeth, whiskers, long or sharp fingernails, scruffy or odd styled hair. Even the singer's immense height is an obvious thing of note, but never-the-less everybody here looks completely normal for their race.
The song ends. The Bard takes a second to revere in the masterpiece, looking joyfully at his lute. After his moment of appreciation is done he looks up at your direction. His eyes lock with Brocks and he speaks in his shrill, hoarse voice: "Welcome back Brock, I pray that you brought with you the supplies that we so desperately need? And you have made friends! What a joyous day!"
"I'm afraid thats not the case" Brock replies. "We were attacked by The Knight only a day's ride from here. Harard and Misha were slayen. I would have ended up dead too if it weren't for these brave souls come and save me. I return empty handed. I have no food for the people, only the box of coin and the promise of assistance from my saviors."
Tucker tears his eyes from the bony knees and gaunt faces of the village's children. He slips gently from the back of his donkey and unfastens the saddle and saddlebags. Gently rubbing the animal's nose, he asks, "Be there a butcher among you? My poor Havilard here is the only food we were able to bring. He's young and probably still tender. At least he'll keep you on your feet until we can free your village from this curse. Just... make it quick." He whispers gently into the animal's long ear. Sorry, my friend.
With a snort; "No need to go to that extent, he'd be only a single meal and there's many mouths here."
Marianne shakes her head, 'Besides they'd not have sent a trio of people for seed and food if they needed immediate food.'
"So we hear you've annoyed the knight and the Grugach are harassing you?" She says plainly. "Got any clue why? Or legends about how to stop them."
"Alas, we have none stranger." replies the Bard. "Had we a method of overcoming such obstacles we would have already done so by now. he Knight and The Grugach are a plague on this small village. As much as we try to help we are few and our resources are finite." The Bard makes his way toward you as he speaks. As he walks, a long shadow mimicking his enormous height bobs along with his movements. He stands before Marianne, towering over the Barbarian by more than a foot or two and extends a hand. "I am pleased to meet you. Any help we may have to save the town is appreciated. In return we have little to offer outside the promise of hunger and gratitude. I am The Cucckoo."
The Humans and Halflings of Ossington eye Havillard the Mule hungrily. They touch him and whisper amongst themselves which parts they are doing o divvy up amongst each other.
Sticking her hand out and grasping the tall individuals wrist in a handshake, Mari refuses to crank her neck too far in deference. "Gratitude always accepted. I'm Marianne." she adds gruffly and wryly, taking a half step back to look at the singer.
"Is it cause of the Stones that the Grugach envy you so? Maybe we could act as emissaries, though perhaps we should deal with the Knight first." she says confidently, before adds fishing. "Maybe Dyson about, maybe he know?"
|
|
"Get away from me ya vultures!" Billy definitely seems twitchier than usual. The crowd would probably gladly leave the crazy man alone if he weren't in such close proximity with the nice adventurers. He glances towards the bard but is too focused on the crowd to really pay him much attention.
The young man says shakily to whomever in the group is willing to pay him any attention "S...so could we umm find sumplace a.. a lil more private ta talk? All 'o these people're startin ta unnerve me" Unnerved may be somewhat of an understatement, freaking out might be more like it.
"Oh? you have already heard of Dyson? If you like I could take you to him. He and Mayor Uptal are in a meeting right now but I doubt they'd mind if help interrupted."
The Cucckoo adds: "I must warn you though not to be alarmed at his appearance. He is not like the rest of us. He is a bit... MMmmmm, different. I assure you that he only has the best of intentions.
With a bow The Cucckoo indicates that he will lead the way and begins to march forth. The road leads to the only stone structure in the village, which also happens to be the biggest. The crowd follows you closely in the hopes that somebody will drop a morsel of food or a token along the way. At the doorstep The Cucckoo rapps on the large, solid wooden door. It takes a moment but eventually the door opens a crack. A shadowy figure peeks through to see who it is before opening the door completely. Standing within the entrance is an attractive looking man of normal size and height. His build is not muscular, but not unapealing to the opposite sex. He has a short kept beard and odd colored eyes and is neatly dressed in fine robes that almost have a special magical glow about them. Protruding from his forehead are a pair of medium sized horns and from out the back of his trousers sways a spaded tail.
Tucker hands over Havilard to the kindest-looking person in the crowd around him. "Share evenly! I recommend a stew," he admonishes, "You should all work together to make it, then share it out to all as needed. Eat sparingly, for you are unaccustomed to rich foods and will spew if you gorge."
He rather glumly follows the Cuckoo through the village to the city hall, then bursts out laughing when he sees the person who opens it. "So the folk here fear your pointy ears but not the anatomical acoutrements of this gentleman," he roars, slapping Rob on the back, "Interesting place. Good morrow, Sir Dyson, is it? We come to bring aid, if we can."
"I fear it is due to my appearance being shared with the perceived enemy," Robinet says in reply to Tuck. "Hopefully, I will not struggle to prove that I have nothing in common with them beyond better hearing."
Hearing an increasingly distressed Billy's voice, Robinet turns and gestures sharply to Alan and Maneakira to bring Billy over.
"Quickly you three! If we are to council, we must begin at once."
Turning back to the devilishly guised individual at the door, he says, "If it would not be too much trouble, we would really rather our conversation regarding the city's plight be held inside as we can clearly see your people need not be distressed further with talks of your fair town's situation." He speaks softly and courteously. His emphasis on the word your is clearly a cover, most likely to bring the tiefling's attention to their own party member's current demeanor.
The hungry villagers are quickly distracted with Tucks gift of food and quickly lose interest in the newcomers (though they still take careful measures to avoid Robinet). They all thank Tuck profusely, some try to give hugs and handshakes and some offer tokens (insignificant and odd things like buttons, rocks or weeds that they pick off the ground).
"I fear it is due to my appearance being shared with the perceived enemy," Robinet says in reply to Tuck. "Hopefully, I will not struggle to prove that I have nothing in common with them beyond better hearing."
DYSON: "The simple villagers are too preoccupied with their own matters to notice that you could not physically be a Grugach. Their breed differs from your brand of Elves slightly when it comes to things like Hair, Skin Color and build. To the untrained eye they'd likely just be passed off as any other Elf out there, but to the trained eye its easy to notice such differences."
THE CUCCKOO: "Dyson, Harard and his companions have failed in their mission to purchase supplies from the neighboring villages. To make matters worse, he was slain by The Knight, as was the female. The young Halfling is the only survivor. As luck would have it, he came across these folks near that crotchety old farmers house and has convinced them to aid us in the villages plight."
DYSON: "This is most wonderful news! Of course you may all come in so that we might get better acquainted and discuss the matters at hand. I have managed to refine a flavorful tea from some of the wild plants in the area if you require some refreshment. Will you also join us my friend?" he asks The Cucckoo.
THE CUCCKOO: "I have other pressing matters to deal with at the moment. I will leave the dealings of Ossington to you mortals for the time being" he says jokingly through his horrid voice.
"Very well then" Dyson replies with a smile as he ushers you in. He escorts you to a carpeted meeting chamber filled with exquisite furniture.
Sitting in a strong, high backed leather bound chair sits the only elderly man you have seen since before you entered the forest. He is Human and looks to be in his sixties which is comparatively old next to the generally young population of ossington or even Old Tarbee. Like Dyson, The Cucckoo and Henwen (The woman praying at The Chapel), This man does not look to be suffering from malnutrition at all. "Everybody, I would like to introduce you to Elder Murdows, the Mayor of Ossington."
Uncharacteristically quiet Marianne is a bit uncertain at the strangeness of the village, most of her northern lands held few of Dysons' kind. She follows Billy into the building, making sure the nervous youth doesn't feel quite so surrounded.
"Not so wonderful news for Harard, Dyson." she states plainly with a nod to the departing Cuckoo. At the grandiose chamber, Marianne raises the furred collar of her coat and an eyebrow at the comparison with the village.
I forgot to mention in my last post that Brock bids farewell and departs along with The Cucckoo.
"I can't thank you enough for what you did for me. If you ever need anything I'll be around town."
"Aye, see you around." Marianne says stoically before turning back to Dyson and the Mayor.
"I, Marianne. My companions are t' Glorious Robinet, Clever Billy, Honied-tongued Alan, Maneakira and Pious Tuck." she gesture to the others. "We've heard about your plight and the problems that beset the town.... seems grave." Her tone is insistent, hopeful that the Mayor could expand upon the causes and how his own retinue hasn't been able to deal with it - or that the others may be more eloquent.
ELDER MURDOWS: "Grave is a soft word to describe our problems madam. We've always had problems with the Grugach. They hate everybody who isn't an Elf, and even hate other Elves that aren't of their tribe. Murdows eyes Robinet with a cold stare. "They used to ignore us so long as we stayed out of their neck of the woods, its a big forest after all and aside from a few hunters and wood gatherers most of us never strayed far from home. All that changed when The Knight came around about 3-4 months ago. We never learned his name and never saw his face on account that he never takes off that enormous helmet of his. All he seems to do is visit each of the local monuments in turn, one by one and slaughter us. The next thing we knew after he shows up is a group of woodsmen go missing and we find their bodies the next day shot full of Elf arrows. Then they got bolder and started shooting at folk in the fields. Elder Meril, the mayor before me lead a group of men with the white flag of parley but got shot up as well. We found the massacre two days later." Elder Murdows gulps: "We weren't sure if all the bodies were there or not. When we found them they were hacked apart. Meril's body was intact but there were so many arrows through him we couldn't get him loose from the tree he was pinned to. Since then things have gone from bad to worse. The Grugach and The Knight have been in league with each other. We ate all our sheep and chickens so there's no more livestock. We couldn't plant the crops so there wont be a harvest this autumn. The Knight travels the roads and The Grugach swarm the forest so escape is impossible. Even the wild animals have disappeared."
'Gah, I'm always good at picking out the right word.' she silently rebukes herself. As the mayor continues with he tale of woe, Marianne finds herself a touch lost - after seeing possible plans slide from convoluted thoughts. She glances at Robinet, trying to work out what the cunning scout is thinking.
|
|
Billy doesn't need any assistance getting in, when a clear path away from this crowd is apparent he doesn't hesitate to go for it, and quickly makes his way inside. Hurrying over to a seat and slumping down letting out a big relieved sigh, he's pretty sure someone invited them to sit, and if not... well he doesn't really care that much.
The young man gives a somewhat absent-minded wave when Marianne introduces him. Apparently he is paying attention to the Elder's story as he pipes up with a question "How do ya know they're in league? And why would they be? What they got ta gain by slaughterin folks at monyaments? On dat note what're the monyaments for?"
"Aye, the Grugach could simply be taking advantage of the Knight's presence," Alan suggests, running a hand over some unshaven stubble, "They don't necessarily have to be in league. Not that it matters, since we are taking them all down anyway. If the Knight visits the monuments in turn, then we should be able to predict where he will show up next, no?"
'Monuments? I wonder if he means the stones. What they're purpose is, whether they are the last vestiges of an ancient ceremonial area - created by druids or maybe the Grugach, or it they mark the boundaries.' she ponders; 'It would be useful to talk to the Grugach, since the knight isn't so forthcoming, however we'd likely end up as the last Mayor.'
Letting out a soft sigh, the only outward appearance of her wild thoughts.
"How do ya know they're in league? And why would they be? What they got ta gain by slaughterin folks at monyaments? On dat note what're the monyaments for?"
"Aye, the Grugach could simply be taking advantage of the Knight's presence," Alan suggests, running a hand over some unshaven stubble, "They don't necessarily have to be in league. Not that it matters, since we are taking them all down anyway. If the Knight visits the monuments in turn, then we should be able to predict where he will show up next, no?"
"Its clearly a case of them vs. us, its silly to even question that they're not in league with each other" Elder Murdows scoffs.
Dyson is quick to reply: "I'm sure what Elder Murdows means to say is that Ossington is a simple village filled with simple people. Alan could be correct in his assumption that Ossington is merely being ganged up on by one party or the other merely because the opportunity presented itself. Either way, something needs to be done or either The Knight, The Grugach or both will cause the village to collapse, and they are very close."
"Yes, please excuse my outburst." says Elder Murdows "We've been a bit out of touch you know. You asked of the monuments. I know little of them but what I can tell you is this: There are 4 of them. Red horse hill lies to the North West of here. Its a large hill with some sort of animal carving on the side of it. The Great Barrow is to the North East. This structure was raised in memory a Warlord who long ago fell in battle after 2 great victories. The last is The Silence Keepers to the South East but its just a pile of stones."
The tengu cocks a beaked head to one side. "Correct me if I am wrong...you have only named three. I'm guessing the South West would be the location of the last...?"
Robinet remains quiet not wanting to insert the incendiary component of prejudice into the information gathering his comrades were attempting. However, Dyson seems beyond it, and even the Mayor seems to recognize that it is something to move past for the moment.
Carefully choosing his words, Robinet asks, "How long has Ossington been plagued by these Grugach? I feel it seems strange not to even be aware of this tribe of elves within traveling distance of my own family lands."
He smiles slightly at Elder Murdows. "If it sets you any at ease, I am only half an elf. And my ties are not to any tribe of elves who share relation to your Grugach. So it sounds like they will hate me as much as you."
Putting her hand heavily upon Robinet's shoulders, she gives it a little squeeze of sympathy. 'He's usually so boisterous, didn't realise how much the villagers must get him down.'
"Hmmm. Going to site of ambush sound stupid.... like one of your idea's Robin." Marianne teases. The little thrush dives from it's perch upon the half-elf to peck playfully and reproachfully in the barbarians bountiful hair.
"Puzzling how half an elf can be doubly hated. Their sums are ciphers. Best keep one eye open so your giblets stay within your doublet, Robin," Tuck gabbles, trying to ignore the sounds from without. "If yon knight cycles like the sun, p'raps we can meet him during his appointed rounds. Know'st thou his habits, Elder?"
The tengu cocks a beaked head to one side. "Correct me if I am wrong...you have only named three. I'm guessing the South West would be the location of the last...?"
"Where does my memory go sometimes?" says Elder Murdows sarcastically. "I presume that you had passed The Chapel to the South West on the way in then? The least interesting of the Monuments to say the least."
"Ossington itself could be considered a monument as well in its own right" Dyson chimes in. "There are strange ruins carved all over the stones that make up the double circle that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. We had looked into it briefly but abandoned the task to more pressing matters. Though, I suspect that if we ever manage to solve the problems of Ossington it might be fun to look further into."
"How long has Ossington been plagued by these Grugach?
[b]ELDER MURDOWS: "Well, they've always been around but have never caused much trouble unless provoked, which was very infrequently if ever by mistake. Ossington is a peaceful place and has better things to do than going after a pack of Elves."
"If yon knight cycles like the sun, p'raps we can meet him during his appointed rounds. Know'st thou his habits, Elder?"
"Elder Murdows: "Unfortunately no, we haven't been able to successfully track his movements on account of it being too dangerous. Nobody in their right mind would dare. It would be a death sentence."
Marianne looks to the others, with a shrug. "What? We go around and have a look at these monuments?" she asks; "Maybe should we talk to stupid Grugach. Tell them off."
"Or we could go get the grass-seed?" she wonders.
"We did see one monument. Neither it nor its keeper enlightened us," Tuck points out, "And judging by yon horse carcass at the farm, elfbolts will fell any who try to wrench a living from the soil here. Your pardon, Mari. I am at wit's end for a plan. Of course, the end of my wit is a near thing."
"Plans? We should just crack some skulls and get tho' ambushers to talk sense." Mari retorts hotly.
Then she takes a deep breath; to calm herself - the mornings activities having gotten her on edge.
"What do you have in mind, kind sirs? Our skills are at your disposal, but we know not the lay of the land. The Knight would seem to be the more pressing matter at the moment, no? It certainly seems to be the simpler one."