Cole takes his place behind the bar in preparation for the evening patrons and to lend a hand to the day worker before he leaves for the evening.
From his stool at the corner of the counter, Henry had a decent vantage point to observe the patrons' comings and goings from the Crusty Cup.
He was specifically on the lookout for hunters, especially known associates of Hewitt's.
Nursing his whiskey, Henry's eyes flick to Cole for a moment, speaking in low voice, "I'm keeping my eyes open for any of Hewitt's associates. As soon as I note their presence, I'll make my way over to them."
His eyes turn back to the scene within the Crusty Cup.
Two hunters occupy a table in the corner of the bar. Richardson seems to remember other hunters congregating in that corner in the past, but can't recall for certain if Hewitt was one of them.
Doc takes in the room as he settles into a seat at the bar, looking for any unfamiliar faces.
"I believe you're right, Mr. Richardson. A little something to warm the spirit is in order. Mr. Younger, a gin and tonic if you would. And if you happen to have any stew simmering I'd love a bowl."
Wilkens can't place many of the faces here, but knowing the whole town is much more Richardson's business than his. He does notice a bit of whispering about Richardson not doing his job and mentions of getting a real sheriff, what with all of the commotion lately.
Cole grabs a tray, and places three whiskeys and Doc's Gin and Tonic on it. He deftly weaves through the Crusty Cup to the table in the corner where Henry is heading towards the hunters. He places the drink with Doc on the way by.
Here is a round on the house gentlemen. Richardson and I need a little info that you may be able to help with. He can fill ya in.
Cole nods to Henry and heads back to the bar to sling some more drinks, listening to the patrons.
Perception:
"Many thanks, Mr. Younger."
Doc peers around the bar looking for the source of the whispered voices trying his best to appear nonchalant.
"Gentlemen, may I join you?"
Giving them a brief moment to answer, Henry sits down at their table, lifting his whiskey and taking a drink.
"You fellows may know a hunter by the name of Hewitt? Well, he and his children have gone missing. My deputies and I have put out a search for them." Henry pauses to scan the two men's faces, hoping to gauge some reaction. "I recollect hearing something about hunters' caves in the Northwest, but do not know their exact location. I was wondering if one of you would be kind enough to give me and my men directions to these caves. As I mentioned, we are searching for the Hewitt family and hoping to discover some clue as to their whereabouts out at the caves."
Henry levels his deep brown eyes on the two hunters, not necessarily in an intimidating way, but with his usual intensity. He gives them a cordial smile before taking another sip of his whiskey.
Sitting at the edge of the bar next to the door, Zachariah just watches the banter about the room. He carefully studies the faces of each of the men, not knowing what to expect, having never met any of them.
Nodding to Cole in thanks, he takes his free drink and sips it carefully, enjoying the burn that washes down his throat and settles in his belly. It had been quite some time.
He takes the small button out of his pocket, and slides it back and forth under his finger across the hard wood of the bar.
As an afterthought, he pulls a coin or to out of his pocket and places them in front of the large man as payment.
Then he sits back and listens.
The hunters exchange glances as they are approached by Cole and Richardson. They sit quietly for a moment, swirling their drinks and looking rather put off. Then finally one of them nods. The other speaks.
"Ol' Hewitt ain't coming back. Nor his kids neither. No sense in pokin' around." The man takes a long drink of his beer and chokes a little. Once he's done coughing, he continues. "Fellah got took by the Toxaway Snake. It wanders those parts. Ya don't cross the Toxaway without payin' toll to the Snake." He finishes his beer and stands to leave. "Hewitt didn't believe. Now I reckon him an' his are doin' a whole lot of believin'." The other hunter stands to leave as well.
This is the first Richardson has heard of the Toxaway Snake, but he does remember hearing about sea serpent myths in which monsters become trapped in lakes or rivers and are said to come up on land to feed on cattle.
"Sit down, gentlemen. I am not quite done with you, yet."
There is a certain insistence in Henry's voice.
"So, if I am hearing this correctly, a snake came out of the Toxaway taking Hewitt's children and then a day later came back out and took Hewitt, an experienced hunter, as well? Seems to be quite intelligent and vengeful if you say the snake took him because he did not believe in its existence."
Hunters could be a superstitious lot, just like the gold panhandlers. Yet, Henry had heard stories of sea serpents being trapped in lakes and rivers and coming up on land to feed on cattle wandering too close.
"Did anyone witness these attacks by the snake? Or is this simply conjecture on your part? Has anyone else been taken by the Toxaway Snake that you know of?"
Henry's voice surprisingly lacked his usual cordiality. Henry had an open mind about many things but he required hard evidence that the Hewitt's all perished by random bad luck with a snake. He did not really buy it -- not all three taken by a snake living in the Toxaway.
"And before you leave, the directions to the hunters' caves, if you would please." Henry's gaze never left the two hunters, in case they felt it necessary to reach for their weapons.
The hunter goes stiff as Richardson lays hands on him. The other hunter cracks his knuckles and a grim focus crosses his face. However, after a moment, the first one speaks again.
"Just a fairy tale sheriff. Just pullin' yer leg. Poor fella probably got eaten by bears." He shakes off Richardson's grip and flashes a sap under his coat before continuing. "Follow the trail North of Hewitt's house. Not hard to find. If you lose your way in the dirt, look at the trees. He leaves a mark. Now if you'll excuse me..." The two hunters stare at Richardson to see if he plans to make another move.
Cole sees the Hunters get up and stop. He comes from behind the bar and approaches the table with a menacing look on his face. As Henry let's them leave, he approaches the Sheriff.
Everything ok?
He nods in the direction of the leaving hunters.
What did you learn?
"Ahem." says Zachariah in a hushed voice as the men exit the building.
"I'm fairly confident I could follow them without being seen and see if they're up to... anything."
He looked both Henry and Cole in the eyes, looking for some kind of affirmation. For some reason he felt an odd kind of kinship to the group that had met in the church floor below his prison. Perhaps their chatter had nuck in through the constant conversation with the Other...Hm.... He quickly snapped himself back to reality. I shall have to ponder that later.
"At the very least I might be able to learn something as the two converse with each other. They may be more open if they don't know someone is listening."
Turning burning brown eyes on Thistle, Henry gives a curt nod. "Follow at a distance, Thistle. They are armed and they do not like me much. Do not approach them by any means. See you back here when you are done."
Gesturing Cole to follow him to the empty side of the bar, Henry shares the small amount of information he obtained from the less-than-helpful hunters.
"They didn't like me much. Didn't bother me much neither. It seems the trail leading north from Hewitt's house is the way to the caves the hunters use as a lodge. Apparently the trees are marked along the route in case we lose our way along the dirt track. That is where we start first thing in the morning."
Henry rubs his chiselled chin. "They mentioned the Toxaway Snake. Apparently it lives in the river and comes onto land to feed. Those two believe Hewitt and his children were taken by the snake. Hewitt didn't pay much heed to the story of the snake. I'm not sure what to think about those two -- they appeared uncomfortable in my presence. The one who gave me directions, had a sap under his coat which he flashed at me as a threat. Perhaps Thistle will discover something a little more useful as he follows them. Least we have directions. They were hesitant to give me them and it makes me wonder what they have hidden there. Time to find out."
It was apparent Devil's Fork had a number of secrets, more than Henry first realised. It was time he found out the whole truth.
With that, Thistle quickly exits the crusty cup carefully trying to follow the hunters.
Thistle successfully shadows the hunters for some time, but is disappointed to find they mostly go silently about the business of checking traps and skinning animals. In fact, it seems these two are used to working together without exchanging a single word.
A clear night passes, but some of you have trouble sleeping. There is no rain, but for some reason, sounds of the night creatures seem eerily absent. It is as though frogs and crickets have moved on from Devil's Fork, leaving the few hundred settlers to their dreary lives alone.
At first light, Richardson is already waiting at the Crusty Cup. Cole finds his way down as Wilkens makes the painfully slow shuffle down the street and Thistle appears seemingly out of nowhere. The party heads toward Hewitt's house, finding it much as they had left it. As they travel down the trail, they find a fork. Several smaller trails lead off into the woods, but they all seem to vanish into the undergrowth.
Staring into the underbrush Wilkens walks back through the events of last night. He returned home restless and spent most of the night buried in his books searching for any mention of the Toxaway Snake or history on the caves nearby.
"It appears the trail has gone cold. Mr. Richardson I believe you mentioned our Mr. Hewitt leaves some kind of markings? Perhaps if we spread out." Stretching tired muscles Wilkens looks for anything out of place.
Henry kept his eyes on the surroundings as they walked. He provided little to no small talk.
He had become very capable at tracking down humans and was experienced in forests and woodlands.
At the diverging road, Henry looked up into the nearby trees as instructed by the hunter. He moves closer to inspect and determine any markings made on the bark or branches, even at the base of the trunk.
In a measured way, Henry answered Doc, "The hunter said to look to the trees - that Hewitt would have placed his marker along the route."
"The hunter did not mention what this marker looks like. I do not believe it would be too hard to distinguish between a natural knot or indentation and a carved symbol."
Richardson is able to locate two weathered grooves running diagonally and parallel on a nearby tree. He does not immediately spot any other markings, but these definitely look carved.
Henry notes the grooves, but cannot tell whether the left or right fork is the correct track.
Calling the others to him, he points up at the grooves, "We're looking for this marking. Doc and Cole, if you can take the right fork, Thistle, Smith and I will take the left. If you spot the same marking, call out. We will do the same. Do not wander too far down the path. We're simply determining the correct track."
Henry begins walking a short distance down the track on the left, searching the nearby trees for the mark.
Cole nods in the affirmative, draws his Shortsword and moves down the right fork.
C'mon, Doc.
Perception:
Richardson has no trouble spotting a second set of markings, and even a third. Though not always immediately obvious, it appears it won't take much searching to follow Hewitt's mark.
Zachariah keeps an eye out for any beasties or even other people that might be in the area.
Seeing Cole reach for his weapon, Wilkens pats the sling in his pocket and gathers a few suitable stones as they search for the hunter's marks. A yawn escapes his mouth as he turns back to the other pair. Wake up, old boy. The children are depending on you.
"Mr. Younger, I do believe the good sheriff has rediscovered the tracks."
In measured voice, Henry calls to Cole and Doc instructing them to take the left track. "I found two more such markings, so I believe this is the correct path."
The carved grooves were a clever method of marking the true path. Hewitt was no simpleton and Henry began to admire the hunter's prowess. Henry also started to ponder the probability of a second shack for refuge for Hewitt and his family. Henry surveyed the surrounding, hoping to determine the best location for one, if indeed one existed. It would do no harm to look now they were on the correct path to the caves which formed the Hunters' Lodge.
After about almost an hour, the party finds their way to a jagged cliff face on the left of the path. With some searching, Richardson finds an entrance to a cave, partially obscured by shrubbery. Inside looks dark, but evidence of use litters the ground inside. Broken arrows, shattered whiskey bottles, leather scraps, and other assorted refuse suggest this has been a common stop for hunters for some time.
"Looks like we could do with a little bit of light."
Wilkens pulls the flint and steel from his pack and searches for anything that could service as a suitable torch.
Wilkens is able to find an old lantern, though it appears to be dry and the glass is broken.
Wilkens peers through the broken glass of the lantern catching sight of day's old stubble in the split reflection of his face. Absently rubbing his stubbly chin he heads back to the others.
"I am unsure if this is a good sign. Whomever left this behind must have been in a hurry, though it may still do us some good. Do any of you perhaps have some lamp oil?"
I've got flint and steel.
"No lamp oil on me, Doc. Have flint and steel like Cole."
Henry moves some of the broken, littered items carefully with his booted foot, searching for something less obvious.
Henry had not visited these particular caves before, but he did possess experience and general knowledge of caves. Perhaps it would come in useful once they managed to get some form of light to use as they moved through the space.
"Hm, well it appears we have plenty of flint and steel, as I have some myself as well." Wilkens stared at debris thoughtfully then turned back at the trail behind them.
"I suppose we can gather some wood to use as a makeshift torch until we find an alternative light source."
Richardson finds nothing remarkable in the debris, save for a few discarded coppers.
"The wood would burn out before we got very far inside the cave. Is there any alcohol inside those bottles? We could soak a rag and tie it around the end of the stick and light it. The smoke would be bad, however. Or one of us could back track to Hewitt's house and see if there is any lamp oil to be found there."
Yes, I will head back to recover some oil.
Conner makes his way back to the hewitt house and shack to search for lamp oil, or even a lamp itself, or torches.
Though the walk back is several minutes, Cole enters and quickly recalls the two lamps on either wall of the cabin. He takes one and finds it to be full of oil.
He returns as quickly as possible with the lamp.
I think that I have what we need.
He hands the lamp to Doc and draws his Shortsword.
I may need my hands free, if you don't mind, Doc. Ready Henry?
"Ah, very good Mr. Cole. Yes, I can light the way."
With a few sparking strikes Wilkens lights the lamp and holds it up to the dark of the cave, peering inside.
"Good work, Cole. Yes, I am ready." Henry sheathes his rifle in the leather scabbard on his shoulder and pulls out his dagger instead. It could be dangerous firing a gun inside a cave. Henry moves forward, his steps and focus purposeful and keen by the lantern light.
The party continues on into the cave, finding it goes further back than they might have imagined, going deep below ground level, quickly becoming dark and damp. However, there are crude sconces periodically dotting the walls, some still containing the burnt remains of torches.
The path forks, with the left branch seeming to rise somewhat, and the right path going deeper.