I will, my lady. he says with a curt nod.
He looks as though he is mulling over whether to say more and then finally adds;
You must understand, I am a military man. All my life I have stood and faced my enemy with what strength and honour I was able to muster in the moment. Subterfuge is not my forte. I'm not aware of anything out of the ordinary here but clearly you have reason to believe there is some kind of danger here at the Lodge.
I can tell you that I have been coming her for nearly fifteen years an in that time I have seen every nook and cranny of the place. There are a series of secret passages around the Lodge that run behind the walls of most of the rooms.
I suppose originally the purpose may have been for the staff to move around unseen and without interrupting the guests but they may also serve a purpose for those who might want to hear more... private conversations.
I thank you again, and wish you good day.
Constantin bows his head and gestures with his top hat. "Thank you, sir," he says. "We greatly appreciate you taking the time." He replaces the hat on his head and motions for Hazel to accompany to the next stop.
"I don't think he's home, Vermundr. The guards mentioned the pens over there, let's see if we can find him there."
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Zed remains still, content to listen until the conclusion of the song. Once it has reached that point Zed clears his throat. "Beautiful. Truly."
The Markiza turns at the sound of the voice but suddenly her face grows paler than Zed's and she stands rapidly, almost knocking over the stool on which she was sitting.
Wha... Is that yours!? she squeals, pointing a quivering finger at Zed but talking to Kaz.
The pair approach the pens just as Delgros is coming out.
Behind a locked, oversized door of reinforced oak this old stone well-shed provides entrance to a natural limestone cavern reworked and partitioned to form a series of crude underground holding cells that house a menagerie of exotic beasts for the lodge’s guests to hunt.
He locks a very heavy-looking padlock and then slips the key, attached to a leather cord, into his shirt.
Oh. Morning. he says as he turns, tipping his hat slightly to Vala.
Connecting the main entrance and grand ballroom, this huge hallway serves as the centerpiece of the ground floor. Golden pine floor planks, over a foot in width and sanded smooth, stretch almost the entire length of the hall, while four massive tree trunks serve as pillars, running down run the center of the room supporting the
ceiling overhead. Large hide rugs and trophy heads of bears, bucks, and snarling wolves adorn the floor and natural log walls, boasting of some of the lodge’s patrons’ finer kills.
Garlands and banners embroidered with the crests of various aristocrats, secret orders, and hunting clubs hang from exposed rafters high overhead. Stone fireplaces on either side keep the room at a comfortable temperature.
The fireplaces are unlit at the moment and the room looks unadorned though.
There are no guests in the Grand Hall at this time and most of the staff are in the kitchens preparing the banquet.
Zed sighs internally, but he knows it's a bit cliche to do it out loud. "I am subject to no one but myself miss. Although I would ask you the same question about that song. Did you write it yourself?" Zed asks politely.
N..no... my mother taught it to me... she isn't aware that she is doing it, but the woman is skirting around the room, almost pressed to the wall. When I was a girl.
Who are you... w-what do you want? My Hound will be back any moment. she adds.
Zed's lip twitches and he looks at Kaz with an arced eyebrow.
"That, Madam?" replies Kazamir with an arched eyebrow. "This gentleman is my friend and travelling companion, but he belongs to no-one."
Seeing her obvious discomfort, he softens his tone and expression. "Pray, be easy, my lady. We are guests here, and appreciate all of the civilized niceties of hospitality. None of us or our companions are here to harm anyone." He walks, slowly - nudging Zed subtly, if he will go, to chairs that are not in a direct line between the frightened woman and the doors, should she wish to bolt.
"May we sit?," he asks lightly, doing so if she assents. Assuming that she has not bolted by this time, he asks, "Might I be so bold as to beg another song? I admit, I don't have much of an ear for music, but I truly enjoyed your playing."
Constantin regards the sweeping majesty of the dance hall impassively, and for a moment there's a look of some sadness on his face, but it passes quickly.
"I suppose it just goes to show that when people say things like I like winter or I enjoy the challenge of hunting what they mean is I like these things in the context of my own comfortable ability to do them when I like and then go home," he says.
He dithers slightly and says, "You know I'm always intrigued by libraries. But, we might as well see what the others have learned before I lose hours or days among the stacks."
The Markiza looks nervous still, but at least no longer has the wide-eyed stare of a rabbit in lamp light.
She casts the occasional glance to the door as if hoping someone else might enter but takes a seat back on the stool and plucks at the strings, not really knowing what to play.
Instead she fills the relative silence with her voice instead.
You are guests here? I haven't seen you hear in previous seasons. You came in with that buffoon Duristan, did you?
You note that she doesn't offer an apology for what she said about Zed, nor does she look at the inquisitor if she can help it.
Zed resigns himself to examining the room. Although it may be the first time one of his fellow party members has witnessed outright bigotry against Zed, it was far from a new experience for him. Although things had gotten better over the course of a century.
"Good morning, Duristan. Do you have a few minutes you could spare? I'd like to talk to you about something, if you wouldn't mind. It's about the trouble that brought us here to begin with."
You carry on, my lady. he says, lighting his pipe. Something's riled up the five tribes that's for certain. At first I thought it was Duristan and his incessant hunts. The man's a fool but he is a gifted hunter so they must at least see him as a thorn in their side.
But after what that Demon Wolf said about Highthrone, it ain't him. There must be a power struggle going on. Still, they've never attacked the Lodge so that's one good thing.
He puffs again, one eyebrow slightly raised.
What's a lady like you doing travelling with adventurers like this lot? This one is an Ulfen hunter I reckon. Other one's a dhampir - he probably has it tough - strange company you keep my lady.
Vala looks around, displaying an obvious discomfort in discussing such things out in the open like they are. "Well, yes, and that's precisely what I was hoping to speak with you about. I don't know how much you might have heard on our misadventure the other night, but an old lady like me is trying to get her niece back." She looks around worriedly again, sharing a concerned glance with Vermundr.
The huntsman puffs on his pipe and blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
What, you reckon the wolves have her?
She looks around again, before offering a loaded, "No. Not wolves."
Okay...? he says slowly. We;re safe from prying eyes and ears here. You think someone in the Lodge has something to do with it?
”We have reason to believe that the men who took her are up to something in the area”, Vermundr says in a low voice despite the relative privacy. ”If not within the lodge itself, in the surrounding woods. Nobody knows these woods better than you. Have you see anything that was… difficult to explain? The men that we’re hunting have unusual resources that makes them dangerous and difficult to track.”
He thinks seriously a moment, puffing away and blowing acrid smoke.
I can't think of anything like that. No one who stood out from the fops the Lodge normally caters for. he says slowly, chewing over every word.
But, I tell you this. The situation with the wolves is very concerning. In all my years in these woods I've never seen them like this, like they were yesterday. Could these men be involved?
He takes his hat off and runs a hand through sweat-soaked hair.
How much do you know about werewolves, beyond the stories.
"Yes, we are new. Although we came in around the same time, we are not 'with' Duristan." Zed says with only a hint of a distasteful curl to his lip.
"Next to nothing, personally. Though I overheard Duristan boasting of his 'scar-ward' to Hazel yesterday. But to answer your question, yes, that's my fear. They know we're on their heels and I'm worried this mess with the wolves is a means to slow us down and waylay us."
She pauses, then reaches forward and squeezes his hand earnestly, "If the wolves weren't riled up, and presuming they're not still here in the lodge, is there anywhere in the wood you can think of they might have gone?"
He blows out his cheeks.
It's vast out there. And uncivilsed too.Ascanor Lodge is the only community of any sort for fifty miles in any direction.
There's lots of ruins but nowhere of significance as far as I know.
I'll tell you about the wolves though. he says.
I seen the wolves riled up plenty of times, I been here for years after all. But nothing ever like this. See each of the five tribes is different.
The Broken Ones settle in remote or isolated territories, building small provincial communities near the wood’s edge. For the most part, they pose as simple farmers or trappers, occasionally traveling to larger communities to sell or trade for goods. They live and hunt in small packs, targeting lone travelers or those who stray from larger groups. Physically smaller than the other tribes, the Broken Ones transform into red wolves. Their pack structure is matriarchal, and their current tribe leader is a druid called Cybrisa Dorzhanev.
The Demon Wolves are smallest and most recently formed pack in the Shudderwood, the Demon Wolves are an amalgam of newly afflicted werewolves, whose pitiful existence is typically scorned by most natural lycanthropes, and exiles from other tribes. Their current tribe leader, is named Adimarus Ionacu. They say he willingly contracted the disease in devotion a demon.
The Silverhides are more aggressive than the Broken Ones, yet possess more composure and subtlety than the other tribes. The Silverhides rarely form standard packs, instead living much of their lives as solitary individuals or lone wolves. Only in times of great importance do they unite and form organized packs. More so than all the others, the they have been successful at blending in with normal humans and living secretly within their communities, with a few bold individuals even settling in some of Ustalav’s major cities. Or so I'm told. It is no secret that the Silverhides’ current leader, Mathus Mordrinacht, has had designs on the position of packlord over all the packs of the Shudderwood for some time.
The Prince’s Wolves are Varisian werewolves with ties to the Sczarni crime family. The Prince’s Wolves maintain a tight pack structure and spend much of their time traveling in small family groups, performing or pickpocketing to support themselves before moving on to do it again somewhere else. The Prince’s Wolves transform into wolves with brown or gray fur, and their current tribe leader is a roguish scoundrel named Rhakis Szadro.
The smallest of the Shudderwood’s tribes, the Primals are also the most homogenous, as they are all descended from the ancient Kellid tribes who once inhabited these lands before they were driven out by the invading Varisians. At present, less than 30 Vollensag remain, settled deep in the woods and traveling in small migratory hunting packs, living as much as their ancestors did.
After a reasonably awkward pause, Zed pushes on. "Milady, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately? Anything that has caused you some reason for concern?" He gives a hint of a knowing smile. "Besides me that is." He says, addressing the elephant in the room in a humorous way...he hopes.
Out of the ordinary? No, no I don't think so. she says, eying Zed nervously but at least appearing to consider his question seriously. Like what? she asks.
However, before either Kaz or Zed can answer a broad, armoured man strides confidently into the room. He is some twenty years younger than the Markiza with jet black hair and polished leather armour. He immediately crosses the room, his hand resting idly on the hilt of his longsword.
My lady. Is everything alright? he asks, openly eying Zed with suspicion and borderline aggression.
Ostravach. she says, unable to hide the relief in her voice. Yes, yes. These men were just... enjoying my music and asking if anything strange had happened in the last few weeks.
The Markiza's "Hound" stiffens slightly at the notion of there being something unusal
I see. Well Quienne has readied your horse, my lady. Shall we? he replies, still looking at Zed.
Yes, yes of course. Excuse me. she says to the pair of investigators with a wan smile.
"Oh. I see." Vala's words are hesitant and colored slightly with disappointment as she replies to Delgros. "Well, those all sound quite dreadful." She looks to Vermundr again and shakes her head softly, feeling this is a dead end with regard to Kendra but recognizing the stoic ulfen may be more interested in the given topic.
Maybe the trouble with the wolves isn't related. I just thought maybe hearing that would help somehow. Chin up, my lady. he tries to reassure her, rather awkwardly
"Truly an artist. I was captivated." Zed arcs a brow, meeting Ostravach's gaze and refusing to let it go as the man stiffens. "Perhaps you have seen something though?"
Things are as they should be here. I'll thank you not to disturb my lady again, gentlemen unless I am present. Ostravach says, taking the Markiza's hand and helping her to her feet.
His dislike/prejudice of you is clear. And while he does seem like he is hiding something he either doesn't want to discuss it in front of the Markiza, or in fact with you specifically
Well let it be known I tried being nice.
"That's alright, I am here for you anyways. Let's dispense with the subtleties. You and I need to have an unpleasant conversation about a matter that's sensitive to you. I think you know what I mean. Perhaps lady Markiza, you should leave while we have a chat."
The Hound looks shaken by Zed's directness, but the Markiza, perhaps finding her fire, seems to have had enough of this.
Ostravach looks about to speak but she does so first;
Now listen here, whatever you are. I have no idea what you are talking about and nor does my valet. Do not address myself or Ostravach again or I shall speak to Estovian and have you thrown out of here! My family has been coming here for a hundred years and I will not be bullied by some.... half-dead thing.
Come, Ostravach, our mount awaits. she says curtly, taking his arm and half leading and half pushing him out of the music room.
Mhmm. Zed simply watches them go.
After your morning and afternoon of investigating at the Lodge you eventually come back together.
It is clear that the staff are gearing up for a banquet that evening and that you, as guests, are invited - in fact, expected.
"I have a potential lead. But I will need to follow it up in a more private setting to see if there is any fruit. Perhaps somebody else might do better than me, they weren't fond of my heritage."
"I could follow up myself, if I could find him reasonably alone I could persuade him without force."
"Ostravach, the escort of one lady Markiza, raised my suspicion when I asked if anything out of the ordinary had happened. It's just a gut instinct, perhaps it is something out of the ordinary for him but not pertinent to our mission. Still I think worth following up on."