"Shall we arrange for transport? Obviously, you'll need a wagon to transport your things, but I think a large coach alongside it could manage the rest of us in some small measure of comfort..."
My head still isn't clear from last night. Raj says. But that party gave me a little perspective on a few things.
He speaks quietly, as if unsure of himself.
Think I might hang around a while. I figure that Benjen is going to need time to recover, if he ever will. Thought I might offer my services....
This is a nice little town with good folks when they aren't so suspicious of everything so I was thinking about having a word with Councilman Hearthmont about it all.
Listening to Raj, Kazamir gives a small, rather rueful smile.
"You'll be sorely missed, but I can hardly fault the decision. It's a worthy calling. Please let me know if I can be of any help - speaking to the Council or helping you get started."
Short of transport and rations for the trip, Kaz doesn't have any immediate needs. He'll spend the last couple of days visiting the sheriff and helping Kendra pack.
Thanks Kaz.Raj says, offering his now uncursed hand to the detective. Means a lot to have done all this with you folks by the way. I'm not the best with words so I won't embarrass us all by trying to say something meaningful.
Zed nods, not terribly moved either way. Raj was a wandering soul with a need for a home; he just happened to find it here. Human spirits tend to behave somewhat like that, switching between adventuring and settling down. "I wish you the best Raj."
The days until the end of the month pass swiftly. Several of you alternate your days working to rebuild the Town Hall with what time you have and helping Grimburrow with the Restlands. After they had defeated the spirits of Harrowstone, no more zombies had risen from the grave, hungry for flesh. But those who had, still lay where they fell after the source of ectoplasmic energy that fuelled them had been extinguished and Zed in particular takes it upon himself to lead a small group of acolytes tasked with interring these unfortunate souls once again.
In the night Hazel and Kazamir frequents the Laughing Demon, sometimes drinking, sometimes not, but always eager to listen to the stories of the townspeople or offer a few of her own from the road. Gibs especially, despite being a canterankerous old sot, was a former military man and despite their differences Hazel would buy him a glass of whiskey and listen to his tales from various campaigns, some real, most not, but she liked a good story nonetheless.
Constantin and Vala are eager to help pack up Kendra's things ready for the several carriages she has ordered from Lepistadt.
By the end of your time in Ravengro the group has met some good people and are sad to leave them. But for some of you, travelling had been a part of your lives and every time you pass through a town or village and consider the friends you make, you remind yourself that absent friends may be out of sight but never out of mind.
The town hall is well under way to being cleared of rubble by the end of the month, and the citizens of Ravengro have gathered for an impromptu parade as the coaches ordered from Lepidstadt arrive to pick up Kendra and her house guests. Ms. Lorrimor was able to sell the house to Alendru who intends to use it as a school. Until it is ready for his purposes however, he donates the building to the council as a temporary Town Hall.
Standing outside her family home, Kendra says:
Well it's finally time to move on. Strange but since father died this place doesn't feel like home anyway. I suppose it's not the building but the people that are important. she sighs. Well, are we ready?
You are placing the final boxes into the lead carriage when you overhear the two drivers talking about their destination;
....aye an' if we make good time on th' road, we should be there in time to see the bastard thing burn too!
"You'll have to visit now and again," Constantin says to Kendra. "You know we both have too much history here." He seems too focused on the moving process to have overheard the drivers, though.
I'm looking forward to it actually. Kendra replies. A city, a new job and a new start I hope. I've loved growing up in this town but it's about time I found out what lies beyond it's borders. she adds. It will always be important to me though.
The coach-driver takes a long puff on his pipe and blows a stream of acrid smoke from his nose.
They caught the Beast, miss. And it’s going to fry by all accounts.
The driver goes on to describe how the city of Lepistadt is currently the scene of intense local excitement. The dreaded Beast of Lepistadt – a terrifying abomination that as terrorised the people of Vieland for years – has been captured. Hundreds of people are flocking to the city hoping to catch a glimpse of the horror and watch it burn for its heinous crimes.
The other driver chimes in;
Aye. Its about hunrn’ miles from ‘ere to Leps’tadt. We’re gonna head back by the old Mountain Road. It’s longer, but safer and if the weather’s fair we should still make it back in time to see the burnin.’
As the trip goes, KAzamir will politely probe for more details about this Beast, its capture, and its crimes...
"Sorry," he apologizes to his freinds between conversations, "Old habits..."
With all of the immediate danger gone, Zed has begun withdrawing again into his quiet and reclusive nature. His words become shorter and his presence becomes scarcer. He stays up late looking at old tomes, trying to learn more about ghosts and what can be done of them. There is no rest for the Pharasman inquisitor.
As everybody starts gathering to leave, Zed goes to find Old River. He takes a knee and scratches the dog behind the ear. After a bit of time in silence with the old mutt he talks to Kendra. "So where will he be going?"
On the road, Zed keeps his hood up and his shaded glasses on. Traveling during the day has always been unpleasant for him, and it helped to obscure his appearance when they might be running into strangers. To the outside world, he looked like a very pale human.
Zed's attention is caught by talk of this beast. He drifts closer to listen, his own questions already asked by the others.
Well, I'd like to take him with me. Kendra says, giving Old River a good scratch behind his scarred ear. But he has been here his whole life, I don't think he'd adjust to the pace of the city. she says sadly.
I'll take him. Raj says flatly. Figure he knows these parts better than anyone. Fancy showing me around maybe boy?
Old River looks from Kendra to Zed to Raj and then as if to say; I'm perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks - slumps down beside the Gazebo where you first saw him.
See you soon pal. Zed imagines he pants. Bring Old River some tasty treats from down the road there.
As the trip goes, KAzamir will politely probe for more details about this Beast, its capture, and its crimes...
"Sorry," he apologizes to his freinds between conversations, "Old habits..."
[dice=Diplo/Gathe info]1d20+9
That things killed dozens of people over the years, sir. Hun'rds mebbe. 'Bout time it got what's comin' t'it.
The driver doesn't seem particularly well versed about the specifics.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Very little detail ever filtered south so far as to make the broadsheets of Caliphas, but I do seem to recall the appellation. Not to be confused, of course, with the DoomBeast of the Furrows, the Great Beast of Nirewood, the Dread Metal Beast of Numeria, Orcish General Utgak "The Beast" Gutspiller, or the Beastman of Rickelaud Street. Which was, in fact, two toddlers and a one-armed halfling under a bearskin rug. One of my first, if not one of my finest, arrests."
Vala shoots Kaz an incredulous eyebrow. "You arrested a pair of toddlers?"
The early part of the journey to Lepidstadt passes without event. You pass fewer and fewer people on the road and more and more ruins, trees and marshes as you go. The first night you stay in the tiny hamlet of Tamrivena, which is even more suspicious and provincial than Ravengro was when you first arrived. Conversation is little to non-existent and requests for anything other than the bare essentials are met with frowns and closed shutters.
There isn't even a proper Inn, though the tavern has three cramped bunk rooms for those too drunk to make it home. The innkeep, prioritising coin over any suspicions of foreigners, happily rents the rooms to the group, while their hired drivers sleep in the stables with their draft horses.
The next day you pass through miles of moorland, and as darkness begins to fall, the dismal foothills of the Tusk Mountains. As dusk is approaching on the second evening, those riding on the coaches can see the flickering light of a few camp fires coming from the side of the road up ahead. As they draw closer, the boxy shapes of nine gaudily painted Varisian house wagons begin to become visible out of the gathering gloom. The wagons are circled for the night, providing a sort of common area for their occupants to camp in.
Strung between two of the wagons, forming an entrance of sorts to their circle is a tattered cloth banner reading, "The Crooked Kin — Ustalav’s Greatest Traveling Cabinet of Curiosities!"
Vala shoots Kaz an incredulous eyebrow. "You arrested a pair of toddlers?"
"AND a one-armed halfling.
I'm not saying they did hard time, mind you. But I strongly suspect the toddler's pudding may have been sanctioned for some time..."
Constantin has split his time between reading and occasionally chatting with other members of the caravan. Once the other caravan comes into view, he looks a bit surprised. "Wow. I've not seen a traveling show since I was a youngster. We can certainly spare a few silver for such a rare treat -- assuming we can spare the time."
There are nine wagons in the circle in total, each gaudily painted in hues of red and green and blue with yellow wheels and bunting that flutters lazily in the evening breeze.
The warm glow of a fire casts weird dancing shadows within the circle as you approach and you hear several voices raised in heated discussion as well as children crying and something howling wildly.
None of you are truly prepared for the sights that greet you in the wagon circle.
There are several people milling about the camp although most seem to be congregated near the fire. The crying is coming from two children although not like any children you have ever seen. They have small, bald heads that are elongated to a point, overshot jaws and eyes that bulge out from their faces even as they cry and squall. Their deformities make them almost impossible to age but judging by their size alone they must be around twelve.
Sitting next to them is a smaller boy – covered head to toe in thick, lank fur who raises his head and howls into the the night sky, seemingly inconsolable. You have heard tale of werewolves in the wild – skinchanging men who adopt the form of lower beasts and this boy is the closest thing you can imagine to such a creature.
Crouched beside them is an enormous woman, well over seven feet tall with a beard that would hang to her waist when standing. She is accompanied by an exotic looking Vudrani woman with four arms and both appear to be trying to soothe the upset children.
Beyond them, a giant of a man – even larger than the woman – towers over a man with jet black skin and no limbs. The latter is perched on a stack of cushions like some kind of worm and both face off against a trio of men who themselves have too many limbs (one has three legs, the others three arms). They appear to be in the middle of an intense argument.
As soon as the performers realise you are standing in the entrance to their circle, they gradually quiet down even as they instinctively huddle together into a group. They watch you closely.
"Forgive our intrusion...is everything alright?" Kazamir asks after a moment of awkward silence. He speaks as soothingly as possible, standing with his empty hands held wide.
Zed looks upon the deformed and misshapen performers with curiosity and suspicion. At least they clump defensively.
"Yes, we apologize for any intrusion."
Zed sense that some appear to have suspicion in their eyes, others hope. The bearded woman calls out; Kaleb, visitors!
A moment later, an albino man with waist length white hair and red eyes, dressed in a ringmaster’s uniform emerges from one of the wagons. With his pale skin and crimson eyes he looks so much like one of the Harrowstone spirits that some of you instinctively reach for weapons. He doesn’t appear to notice, however and addresses you as he approaches.
Greetings, travellers. I am Kaleb Hesse and this is my troupe.
"Greetings, Kaleb," says Constantin. "May I presume that the upset in your troupe has to do with the rumors we have heard recently of a particular event now taking place regarding a so-called 'beast' in the town?"
Vala shoots a look at Constantin and adds, "Forgive the presumption, sir. We're on our way to Leipstadt presently and talk of the trial was upon our lips when we saw your wagons here. I'm afraid we must apologize though, it looks as though we've intruded upon you and your troupe." She glances to the howling boy and the two crying children with the strangely shaped heads, compassion glittering in her eyes before she looks back to Kaleb. "We don't want to bother you." She nods to the others and looks to be making ready to turn and leave, though she also leaves a polite window for the apparent ringmaster to open up and insist they stay.
Constantin looks back over at Vala and silently mouths what?
Vala shakes her head subtly, indicating there'd be time to explain later.
These people are obviously very upset about something. Those three young ones look to be grieving for pity's sake and to presume anything about it or them is beyond rude! Good heavens, have some tact!
Kaleb seems to take no offence at Constantin's words. Clearly he and his troupe are used to all manner of presumptions and words far more barbed than those possessed by the psychic.
He smiles in greeting but even with his odd red eyes and pale face, he looks strained. No intrusion at all. We are travelling folk and there is little better than meeting strangers on the road and sharing a tale or two. he shrugs. It is the Varisian way. But we've run into some... trouble.
He gestures to the other members of the troupe.
We are also on our way to Lepistadt. The Trial there is drawing people from all over and in our line of work, crowds mean money. But Aleece, one of the Pinhead Girls, he points toward the sharp-headed sisters, wandered off into the fens about an hour ago and she hasn't come back. With darkness falling and the swamp.... no one quite knows what to do. Vermundr wants to look for her but with night falling and the swamp.... like I said, no one knows what to do for the best.
"I'm telling you Kaleb, I can find Aleece on my own", Vermundr says in lightly accented Common. "We don't need to involve these outsiders. I can bring the girl home", he adds after a glance at the newcomers.
"She wandered off on my watch... If anything's happened to her, I'll never forgive myself."
Before you stands an imposing Ulfen man with the build and look of the classic viking sea reaver: hirsute, tall, broad-shouldered, and brawny. His rugged features are prematurely aged by a life of hard living and exposure to the elements and framed by the northerner's long pale blonde hair and shaggy matching beard. Dense thatches of slightly darker hair are visible on his forearms and chest and presumably elsewhere on his powerful thickly muscled frame.
He's clad in a breastplate of rough blackened iron and tight doeskin leggings and armed with a deadly-sharp two-handed sword which is strapped to his back. A frighteningly large wasp with a black and yellow striped thorax buzzes calmly over his head.
Kaleb's gaze falls between the members of the group and Vermundr.
I know Vermundr. But there is only one of you and she could be anywhere. I hate to ask this of you, and I wouldn't normally, but you look like people who can handle themselves. None of us save my friend here are really capable of traversing the swamp without difficulty. I can reward you of course.
He starts patting down his pockets and then snaps his fingers.
With this. he draws a slender dagger, which even without inspection looks of masterful quality. I won this from a guy a few towns back. He called it Skin-changer's Sorrow and insisted it was magic. Will you help us?
I don't see why not. Zed nods. "I am a competent tracker. Could you show me some of her shoes, or possibly what her footprints look like?"
Vermundr sighs, both because it was becoming clear that Kaleb was going to hire the party of outsiders and because his boss was right in his reason for doing so.
Hearing Zed's claim as a tracker, he gestures for the party to follow. "She left from this side of the wagons", the big northerner explains as he leads the way. "And Zelda isn't a pet. She's a daemon... err familiar."
Kazamir glances at his friends, confirming their willingness to help.
"I hope that I can understand your reluctance, Vermundr - but I hope you will accept our aid nonetheless. I am Kazamir Rhuul," he addresses the last to both Vermundr and Kaleb, then takes a moment to introduce his freinds.
He follows Vermundr, staying well behind Zed to avoid spoiling traces.
"A daemon you say? Hmm, the footprints must be very unique than." He starts examining the area. "So what was happening?"
"I don't think I'm in a position to deny the help anyway", Vermundr admits in resignation after Kaz introduces the others. He gives Zed and Vala a curious glance and his steely gaze lingers on the attractive Hazel just a moment longer.
"You know, not many here in Ustalav would jump at the chance to help a stranger", he adds as the group approaches the site of Aleece's tracks. "For Aleece's sake, I hope your intentions are true. This swampland is no place for little girls."
"A daemon you say? Hmm, the footprints must be very unique than." He starts examining the area. "So what was happening?"
"Daemon is the word in the northern tongue but you call them familiars. I know 'daemon' in Taldane is an entirely different kind of beast. She's not one of them."
"It was shortly after we finished circling the wagons and dinner was being prepared. The girls always take their meals at the same time. When Aleece didn't appear, I knew something was wrong."
I hope you find her. Kendra calls, climbing down from the wagon and somewhat nervously approaching the Cabinet of Curiosities.
Hello. My name is Kendra and believe me if anyone can help it's my friends. she shakes hands with Kaleb before making her way over to the giant bearded lady and the multi-limbed Vudrani. They have a brief conversation before she kneels down before the mis-shapen children and ostensibly begins trying to comfort them.
She briefly turns and gives a little wave as if to indicate she is ok.
The drivers on the other hand are quite clearly deeply disturbed by the performer's disfigurements and have not even climbed down from their seats. One, pale and wide-eyed eans down and says;
It ain't my place to say but you ain't leaving the lady with these.... people are you? An' I ain't just talking about them bein' freaks. This whole thing could be a trap for kind-hearted travellers.
In the meantime, Zed and Vermundr collaborate over a set of small footprints that lead into the swamp.
I suppose there's little we can do to convince him except for finding Aleece. "Hmm. Into the swamp it appears." Zed draws his weapon, a long piece of dark wood with metal studs set into it. It looks like it's seen some use. He leads the group into the swamp, continuing to look down at the tracks.
Vala nods to their driver, acknowledging his concern. "Oh, it's possible. But to be honest, after what we went through back in Ravengro, I think each of us needs to find faith in others right now. Besides, Kendra's no slouch. Don't underestimate my niece." She adds this last with a wink just as Zed and Vermundr gesture toward the swamp.
She offers Kaleb a long, compassionate stare as she moves with the others to depart and softly says, "We'll do all we can for little Aleece, Kaleb. Though it may not mean much to you now, you have my word."