"Doesn't look like anything special," Eldon comments as he looks around the room.
"If we can find a reasonable ghost, like the lady who's now guarding Harrowstone, we could just ask for information. Shall we try the next house?"
If the others agree to go, Eldon will head toward the nearest unexplored building. As Eldon walks he's careful to avoid bear traps and the like.
"Brodur? You mean 'Stitches', don't you?" Wren asks, confused. "The one the outsiders call 'The Beast'? Oh..that poor dearie..." Wren shakes her head sadly, taking another sip of her minty tea.
"Oh, you have halflings on the case? That is good. In my experience, their little noses are good at ferreting things out. And a human, too? They can be helpful, indeed. And a tengu? I have heard that they are...feathered. As long as you don't have any piddlespotting dwarves in the group...they are mostly useless in my opinion. I would like to know how their investigation goes and to see how we can prove Stitches' innocence."
Wren sips her tea again. Her eyes widen at the idea that *she* might be able to defend Stitches in trial.
"Oh, you want me to defend Stitches?! Oh, dearie! I could do that. People do love to hear me talk," Wren says, completely clueless about how little people like to hear her talk.
Wren thinks more, sipping more tea.
"Oh, I'll do this. I'll do this for Stitches. I'll do this for all the misunderstood...oh, my birdies friends are misunderstood as well. Oh yes, dearie, oh yes," Wren seems quite excited.
Wren things again, again sipping her tea.
"First, I'll go apply to be his counselor...then maybe go speak with Stitches? Or should I go to Herstag to meet with your friends? What would you suggest?"
"You may do that more often!"
Arval says with a large grin on his face as the fire vanishes from his sword. The talk about the spooks and such soon bring him back to reality and his face turns serious again. He handles his charm to calm his nerves a bit before following the others.
Embreth shrugs her bony shoulders.
"When a creature has no name, people will apply their own. Stitches suits it though. And ah.. right. I forgot. They also have a dwarf. Good fellow. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."
She listens in response to your question for a moment, tapping her lip.
"Well you can make for the courthouse and register with ah, Stitches' lawyer - a Mr. Gustav Kaple. You could also interview Stitches if you so wish. However, you can do that on the morrow. I'd head straight for Hergstag. Mention my name discretely and they will know that I've hired you in Iozif's stead."
Embreth stands and makes her way over to a desk, which she unlocks before procuring some papers.
"Now your purpose here is to investigate Hergstag and find evidence which will clear the defendant's name. Three witnesses testify that the village's children vanished one by one, only to return as ghosts. Then one day, the Beast walked into the village carrying the body of a young girl named Ellsa and laughing. The villagers chased it off. If you need more details, you'll have to go to the courthouse I'm afraid."
With a buiding to the south a little nearer than the building to the west, the group make their way over. The going is slow in the tall corn with everybody on a constant watch for bear traps, of which one is found. The group make their way to a slightly larger shack. This one is is not boarded up and the door hangs a little ajar.
Kawrock will move cautiously forward and peer in the door.
Wren purses her lips when Embreth remembers that there is a dwarf in the group. She shakes her head, mentally resolving to stay the course.
Mr. Gustav Kaple? Hhmmm... Wren commits the name to memory.
Know (Local) - Mr. Kaple
Thinking that she has all the information she needs about next steps, Wren drains the last of her tea. She carefully sets down the cup, rising, and preening her feathered armor.
"I shall go immediately to Hergstag, dearie Embreth," Wren coos happily. "This was a nice meeting." Wren makes her goodbyes.
She will travel directly to Hergstag.
Sword ready Arval stands beside Kawrock to strike anything down that jumps at them.
"Ready..."
Gustav Kaple is the laughing stock of the city, being a lawyer who famously has a stammer. It's well-known that he was specifically chosen to ensure the Beast's trial had no outcome other than a guilty verdict, much to the delight of the townsfolk. You know a little more than that, he actually has a reputation as a competent lawyer, just not in a case with this much public attention.
Kawrock peers into the door. The light spills in and for a moment, Kawrock doesn't see anything.
"help me... its dark out... my name is Ellsa... can you help me?"
The voice is eerie and somewhat inhuman, and comes from the dark corners of the room, out of the reach of the sunlight streaming in through the door.
Kawrock clicks his tongue twice as he nervously scans the room to find nothing. "Perhaps you can come out where we can see you? Then maybe we can help you." The tengu calls out to the empty room. "You wouldn't happen to be the little girl that was friends with the large creature that used to live near by would you?"
"Ellsa? Ain't tha' th' name o' th' girl tha' Brodur was supposed t' have killed? " Whiskeyjack rubbed his chin as he considered the implications here.
Arval glances nervously from Kawrock to Whiskey.
"Not going in there... Talking is fine but I'm not going in..."
;)
Wren continues her way to Hergstag.
Bidding Embreth farewell you make your way northeast out of Lepidstadt, following the simple directions you were given. The road is pleasant and follows the western edge of the Dippelmere Swamp, a haven for all sorts of unpleasant insects and the far more pleasant birds that live off of them.
You pass by a couple of hamlets until you finally come to a bridge which spans into the apparently abandoned hamlet of Hergstag. Overgrown crops are everywhere, obscuring every path and making progress somewhat difficult. However, clear as day, is a path through the crops leading to a shack to the southwest. Distantly you can spot a small group of people standing at a second shack, even further off.
The group remains staring in the doorway as they look into the room. A ghostly chill passes over the area, but nothing emerges. Finally, two red points of light start to shine from the darkness, staring straight at Arval.
"help me... its dark out... my name is Ellsa... can you help me?"
"Haunt! Move back!" Kawrock calls out as he withdraws from the shack.
"Light may be useful here."
Eldon weaves a couple of signs with one of his hands and mutters a short spell. Four floating lanterns appear out of thin air, and float into the darkness inside the house.
Eldon sends his lamps floating in, which reveal yet another wraith spawn! Now properly lit, this has the appearance of a small child, however the black, ghostly appearance and red eyes are obvious. It remains pressed against the other side of the shack as Kawrock stands, lit, in the doorway.
"She ain't really Ellsa, now, is she? Bu' bein' a wraithspawn kinda means there be a wraith or somma' hereabouts. An' tha' means Brodur couldnae be th' killer, as golems dinnae create little wraiths, do they? 'Course, we go' t' be destroyin' i' anyways. We cannae be leavin' th' things here to wreak havoc on all who stray by."
Wren walks closer, stopping and waiting well out of close contact, watching the group from afar afar afar.
They seem to be doing something...but what?
And do they have a big chicken with them?
"Ellsa?"
Arval calls from a safe distance.
"Could you talk to us a little? We are searching for the one who did this to you."
He adds after a doubtful moment of silence.
As you watch from as afar as your eyes allow you to, it's clear the figures and the giant black chicken are dealing very cautiously with whatever is in the house.
The wraith spawn simply hover out of the edge of the light, staring at Kawrock and Arval malevolently.
"it's dark out and I'm scared"
Whiskeyjack thinks about what he knows on wraiths. They're one of the more notorious incorporeal undead, famed for their ability to steal the life out of a man rather than slay him outright. Those slain by wraiths become lesser wraith spawn, which remain under the command of the original wraith until it is slain. Wraiths have lost nearly all connection with their former lives, and although intelligent, only exist to destroy living things which they hate. They cannot bear the sun, and typical weapons pass right through them.
It continues to float malevolently in the corner.
help me... its dark out... my name is Ellsa... can you help me?
"I believe she's stuck in a loop. Maybe reliving the last moments of her life."
Eldon looks at the other buildings in the village. "If we find the wraith that controls Ellsa and the other lesser wraith spawns, we may get a chance to talk to the lesser wraiths before they pass on."
"Eh, they ain't really who they were. They ain't like t' talk a' all. Best t' deal with 'em, then we ken be dealin' with their master. Arval, lad. Ye jest be lettin' me know when ye be wantin' yer sword t' ligh' up!"
"Must we finish her? Can't we just leave her here like Eldon said?"
Arval looks proper scared at the insides of the house.
"If there is still a chance to talk to her..."
He sheathes his sword, trying to convince Whiskey.
"I think we should continue and leave her here for now."
If anyone agrees he will move further down the way they were going.
|
Lena shook her head.
she is dead, arval. And don't let her sad story fool you, she would kill you in an instant, given the opportunity. And she is a slave to the thing that killed her. Which is good news, I guess. Brodur is a golem. He cannot make someone a wraith. Only a wraith can.
lena shrugs amd continues she is suffering. She needs release from this state
She looks around at the terrain. where would I hide if i was a master spook...
Lena starts.
who the hells is that! noting an approaching figure.
"What!? Are we being attacked from behind?"
Arval draws his sword and stands ready.
It appears the figures have noticed you. There's some shouting and pointing.
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Wren approaches a group. Bedecked almost entirely in feathers, Wren's plumage reflects that of a great feathered duster. Her 'armor', seems to be handcrafted flowing garment of woven feathers, full of color and pattern.
"Are you sure this is where I should go, Plumie?" Wren says to the imaginary parrot on her shoulder. Her elven features are etched with worry as she approaches the group in Hergstag.
"This is place I should go? Here, you say, Plumie?" The imaginary bird says nothing, a constant companion to Wren who is used to the woman's imaginations.
Wren straightens up, addressing the assembled menagerie when she gets closer.
"Hello. My name is Wren. I am looking for a tengu named Kawrock, a pair of halflings, a human, and a dwarf," Wren says, mindful of how she looks in her armor of feathers. Her armor is a rainbow of colors: several striations of yellow and red, blue and green, indigos and puces. Several portions seem to be comprised solely of feathers from a parrot.
"Let me explain why I'm here," Wren says, explaining more.
"You see, I was traveling a lot in Ustalav where I discovered people dallying...blah blah blah....demons...blah blah blah...an old rusty pitchfork down to my friend in the University....blah blah blah...under the exact same tunic!! Blah blah....and so I...blah blah blah...'mother, it's my body'...blah blah blah...onions! Like I said, onions!" Wren nods happily as if that explained everything.
"I am a friend of a friend...and know of a certain stitched fellow." Plumie, who does not exist, neither confirms nor denies what she is saying.
Wren quiets down, certain she has adequately explained things, and waits for the group to respond.
Whiskeyjack grinned at the sight before him. The woman - he assumed it was a woman - talked almost as much as Eldon.
"Well now, we be a differen' group of tengu, humans, halflings, an' dwarves. If'n we see th' group ye be after, we'll be tellin' ya..oof!" That last exclamation came as Valdlena elbowed the warpriest in the stomach.
"What, Lena? She talks more'n Eldon, an' tha's sayin' somethin'. Mebbe we should jest le' 'er walk on by. No? Aaarrgghh! Fine then! Someone else get's t' deal wit' her then. I need a drink."
And Whiskeyjack followed those words up with a gesture that is familiar to all there, excepting the newcomer, draining his flask once more.
Arval's sword slowly moves down till the point touches the floor, this while he stands gawking at the new figure. He holds his hand toward the dwarf, begging him with his eyes to also get a drink.
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Eldon nods as he patiently listens to Wren's story. The many detours she takes while talking all make perfect sense to him.
This lady sure is articulate! Finally someone to have a decent, lengthy conversation with!
"Miss Wren, allow me to introduce myself," Eldon says and graciously bows. "My name is Eldon Appleton. As you doubtlessly know, seeing as my reputation always proceeds me, I'm an epic storyteller of the epic adventures of yours truly. Which I, by the way, am sure an articulate and sophisticated person like yourself would enjoy."
Eldon straightens himself and his clothes, his face filled with smugness. "From your recount of events I conclude that you're familiar with Brodur. Our stitched fellow, as you so aptly described him. Yesterday we cleared him from charges regarding the events in Morast and its vicinity. What happened was we... blah blah blah... and so we went on to... blah blah blah... and with my expert advice and tireless courage... blah blah blah... then I proceeded, and told him to surrender! Surely there was no way he could hope to... blah blah blah... after I defeated Vorkstag and Grime, my companions joined me... blah blah blah... and so, with my unmistakable talent as a lawyer, there's no longer any doubt these outrageous charges will be dropped."
"Today, we're here in Hergstag to clear Brodur from the charge of murdering people who once lived here."
Eldon points into the building. "This here is Ellsa, the girl who's been seen 'hanging out' with Brodur. Now he's accused of her murder. Thing is, she's currently in a state that rules murder by Brodur out. She is, after all, a lesser wraith spawn..."
After a lengthy explanation of the nature of wraiths and wraith spawns, Eldon addresses the entire party: "...Which raises a difficult question. How do we prove that Ellsa is a wraith spawn, and therefor couldn't have been killed by Brodur, if we take her out? In that case we'd destroy the only evidence that we've found of Brodur's innocence! It seems to me that we should wait until we've gathered at least some other, strong evidence."
Eldon then specifically addresses Wren again: "What say you, milady of vibrant colors? I'd be interested to hear a fresh opinion on the matter."
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Kawrock listens to the feathered lady and then his companions speak. When he has a chance he interjects. "I do not know if I can trust one covered in the feathers of others." Kawrock says after clicking his tongue twice. "Did you pluck the poor birds yourself? How many birds have you slaughtered in the name of fashion? How many chicks went cold an hungry?" Kawrock tightens the grip on his sword. "I see no reason to trust this.... this...mother plucker."
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Lena stands looking at the Strange figure before them, pausing only long enough to elbow a certain impolite dwarf.
Oh no. Another jabber jaw.
She looks back at the wraith. How embarrassing. What's the wraith going to think of us?
Everybody, what you are saying is important, but I would like to point out that we are facing a wraith. Right now. There. She points at the creepy figure in the doorway. So, can we save this conversation for a better time, like after I'm dead
Then softly to Kawrock Sorry Kawrock, didn't mean you.
Wren returns Eldon's graceful bow with a nod of her own chickenlike neck. A yellow teethed smile is returned as well as she listens intently.
"What say you, milady of vibrant colors? I'd be interested to hear a fresh opinion on the matter."
Wren's elven eyes flicker briefly to the hut beyond, her eyes using the little light to seek out the wraithling.
Know (Religion) - if Wren can see it
"That is an interesting conundrum, Eldon. I shall ponder upon..." Wren's response is cut off by the Kawrock's shrillings.
Wren's jaw drops as Kawrock speaks.
"It...speaks?" Wren points at Kawrock and then stunningly at the others. "It sounds like it has feelings...too?" Wren takes a moment for this to sink in.
"I had heard rumors of the Birdmen of Tian Xia, but I had not thought they were...sentient," Wren looks again at Kawrock, blinking her eyes. "It's not very bright, is it, Eldon? I guess their brains are very birdlike, are they not? A literal birdbrain! It is fascinating!"
Wren looks again at the rest.
"How dangerous is it? Does it have lips? Or is it like a chicken?" Wren scans Kawrock up and down as she ponders his shrills. Finally, she deigns to see how sentient it is by answering.
"Did you pluck the poor birds yourself? How many birds have you slaughtered in the name of fashion? How many chicks went cold an hungry? I see no reason to trust this.... this...mother plucker."
Wren looks down at her feathered armor, realizing that it might have a point.
"Oh no, I didn't pluck anything for these. I have spent my life unlocking the natural magicks within feathers. They are my conduit to the arcane world," Wren says slowly, so Kawrock can understand. "My beloved bird, Plumie...I'm sure he's around here somewhere..." Wren looks around for the bird to which she was speaking earlier. "...Plumie gave me most of these. I would clean his nest, you see..."
Wren points to a few feathers mingled into her 'armor'.
"These here are owlbear...I found them in the woods. And a few more are pegasii and peryton. I do love finding exotic feathers..." Wren's eyes glint towards Kawrock's plumage.
Wren glances into the hut and sees the wraith spawn, illuminated by Eldon's spell, hovering malevolently in the corner. She recalls some basic knowledge about wraiths - incorporeal, draws life from the living, and create weaker spawn when they slay the living.
i'm so cold
The ghastly sound of the dead child's voice floats through the air, a strange counterpoint to the conversation between Wren and Kawrock.
"Birdman? Birdbrain?" Kawrock clicks his tongue twice, clearly offended. "Your pompous words are as offensive as your attire, and your races arrogance is very apparent as well. If it doesn't have pointy ears it clearly cannot be intelligent." Kawrock loosens the grip on his sword. "Though your garment is rather barbaric I do understand the need for material components for spells. Just don't let me catch you trying to pluck one of my feathers." He gives the elf a hard start. "Don't think I didn't notice that glance at my feathers just now. If you want the feather of a member of the Phoenix clan then you'll have to earn it." The Tengu points at the wraith spawn. "You can start by showing use what you can do against a wraith spawn."
" 'E's go' a point, ye know. Yer kind ain't exactly known fer their likin' o' other races. Now, if'n ye be wantin' t' help, why don't ye be seein' wha' ye ken be doing with this wraithspawn? I' be th' shade o' the little girl Brodur be accused o' killlin'"
Arval looks a bit hopeless at the situation at hand. At loss for words he remains silent to see if everything resolves itself.
"If it doesn't have pointy ears it clearly cannot be intelligent."
Wren nods along with this very simple truth. She seems surprised that it knows that fact. Wren peers deeply at Kawrock.
"Tell me, Kawrock, are you a male or female of your kind?"
Brodur cannot make a wraith, right eldon? Eldon? Pay attention!
Wren is quick to agree with Vladlena.
"Oh yes, if what Eldon said is true and he singlehandedly slew the two alchemists, then it is unlikely that Stitches, I mean, 'Brodur', created these wraithlings," Wren says, staring again at Kawrock, looking for lips in the beakman's...beak. "Brodur is an alchemical and arcane construction, not one of necromatics."
"No, wraiths can only come from other wraiths here...and there must be a full wraith about. I don't suppose you have seen it yet, have you?" Wren asks, looking to all.
"My suggestion is that we slay this wraithling and any others that we find."
"Aye, which we were abou' t' do when we had t' stop an' have a cha' abou' plumage and th' proper means fer addressin' them withou' pointy ears. Now, are ye goin' t' stop blatherin' an' help, or no'?"
Kawrock clicks his tongue twice before turning his attention to the wraith spawn, intentionally ignoring the question about his gender. "Guess I'll just have to do it myself then." He mumbles to himself before creating a small flame in his hand, which he then proceeds to throw at the wraith.
When Lena asks Eldon something, he's still pondering what exactly pointy ears have or don't have to do with intelligence.
"It's highly unlikely pointy ears are involved in matters of intelligence, even if my ears are slightly pointy too," Eldon adds to the discussion. "Intelligence springs forth from other... What did you say, Lena? No, Brodur cannot make wraiths."
I went over that before, didn't I? Guess that proves having pointy ears doesn't make you intelligent.
When Kawrock suddenly attacks Ellsa, Eldon lets out a terrified shriek. "You're destroying our evidence of Brodur's innocence!"
"Unless you have a way to take that thing back to town. I recommend we take out as many of these things as we can before nightfall." Kawrock turns and says to Eldon.
Arval looks at Whiskey.
"You think I should go in there? Poor child..."
He eyes whiskeys flask with almost a begging look before turning back to the killing.