As she goes, being far faster than a diminutive mouse in speed, she will make up the movement by leaving scrape or scuff marks on the cobblestones with her shoes, or leaves even deeper impressions in the muddy earth than normal tracks. This will aid those seeking to follow her after they deposit the fey in the jail cell. Her eyes eventually come upon the tannery. The horrid stink of boiled leathers meets and greets her nose.
"Okay, Pelipe. Think of a valid excuse for being here. What would a magister want with a tannery? Perhaps some straps of leather for enchanting a spellbook? Yes, that works."
She is quick to make her way inside after the mouse-like creature, hoping to gain sight of who it approaches. Growing up visiting the mines with her father, she uses the same trick pirates use with eye patches and closes one eye before entering into the dimly lit building. That way she is mostly attuned to the location before coming inside. She doesn't sneak in, but is silent as she can in opening the door. One would call it being graceful rather than brutishly opening the door in haste.
If she can manage to spy it out who this person is and abscond with the information without being seen, she will.
"Hey, the rulers seem to be on town business. I am going exploring. Who is with me?"
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"Please take the menagerie owner to a secure and reasonably comfortable location. Miss Lightdriver isn't familiar with Tamlyn, or its inhabitants, so I think it best I follow and assist with her pursuit," Ahto says to
Once the prisoner has been remanded, he moves with speed and purpose in the direction Pelipe went.
Katrine follows after Ahto, although she uses her hunting skills to stick to the shadows. If the tiny fey gets spooked by Ahto and Pelipe, she might be able to stay on its trail if she can avoid being spotted.
It takes a moment to trace the source of the mocking voice. However, as it continues to hurl strings of words, you spot the voice's owner perched atop a lantern post standing at the foot of the trail leading back up the cliffs to the town.
At a cursory glance, it appears to be a gaily colored parrot or some other tropical bird. Its bright red and blue plumage stands out violently from the gray and brown of the surrounding rock and soil. However, your eyes are soon drawn to this bird's head - atop its avian head sits the face of a small elf.
"ey you! Yeah, you! Big eyes! Your wings look right ragged! Bet you couldn't outfly a sack of worms!"
You realize that this creature - a fey of some sort, perhaps? - is now directing its insults specifically at Hoot.
"Got any dosh, you right pudger! I bets you a whole handful that I can beat you across the lake!" the bird fey challenges Hoot.
Meanwhile, you notice that an assortment of other winged fey - some relatively humanoid, others less so - have been drawn by the commotion and are landing on rocks, fence posts, and whatever perches are handy. They begin to squabble among themselves, placing bets on who seems like the faster flier.
However, as if guided by Abadar himself, Ahto manages to single out one set of bare human footprints. They were made by someone running with great haste. With help from Katrine, he can identify one set running from the barracks to the tannery, then from the tannery to the menagerie and back.
The tannery should be closed down. After all, from interrogating the Stroud Sisters and their kin, you discovered that one of their daughters acting as an undercover agent was none other than Horace's resident tanner, Jocelyn. You had sent immediate word back home via Melianse that the tanner was to be arrested at once, since it suddenly became clear that she was the one responsible for sabotaging the granary and other misfortunes that had previously unfolded.
Being the first one to arrive on the scene, Pelipe confirms that the workshop has not been in service for at least a week. Of course, the nature of tanning work means that there is still an acrid odor that haunts the place. Despite being closed, Pelipe spots evidence that someone has been living - or at least hiding - inside the tannery.
While Pelipe keeps to cover lest she be discovered by whomever is inside, the Souris finds the first gap in the wall and scampers inside to correct its mistake.
Katrine nods silently and readies her bow, stealthily circling around the back of the building to see if there's another door.
Pelipe will sigh a breath of relief as she can hear the armor of Ahto approaching. Her leaving a purposeful trail helped them find her. The Souris had just gone inside too, so she nods to Ahto.
"Move quickly but quietly. You need to catch him in the act of returning the keys. I suspect this will be the real culprit..." she whispers back.
Her hand is placed gently on his forearm. One might guess it is a sign of affection. She then casts a quick spell blessing Ahto with that similar feeling of haste. Katerine and Pelipe are blessed with it as well.
She will move silently to an open window, most likely used to help create a cross breeze to vent the location out. From there, she stops short of it and faces the wall. Her hair gets pulled to one side, as short as it is, and she holds it with one hand. This, in her mind, will let her peer inside with just an eye sticking around the windowsill and not include the jumble that is the sweaty mess of her hair at the moment. Is she a rogue? Her granduncle would not approve of her tromping through mud and contemplating sneaking around. But here she is, Super sneaky!
Stayven sighs. There goes his relaxing afternoon. If he had learned anything about Hoot from his time spent with the owl, it's that Hoot's ego was as big as his mean streak was wide. That meant without a doubt, he'd be all for taking on a fey in a race, something that could rarely go well.
With that in mind though...well, the owl seemed smart enough that whatever trouble it got itself into would be firmly it's own fault.
Nevertheless, he addresses the fey politely with the respect and flattery that they fey are so fond of"What are we doing? Simply enjoying a relaxing afternoon by the lake, oh brilliantly plumed one. What brings you here to enrich our presence?"
Hoot sniffs and whistles and Warren’s eagle comes out to race.
”Tuney will be racing. I don’t do races.”. The eagle prepares to race.
There is a front entrance to the shop, flanked by samples of her work on display, as well as a back door that leads to her living space.
At the rear, Katrine can hear the sounds of someone hastily rummaging or packing away items.
"Where the Hell did they...what the Hells? The Hell are you? Give that back!" you can hear a woman exclaim from inside.
Through one of the front windows, Ahto and Pelipe see Jocelyn burst into the shop floor, chasing around the Souris. The tiny mouse fey has a set of gilded keys clutched in its mouth, held aloft far higher than you would expect such a small creature to have the strength to manage.
More flying fey join the scene, declaring their intent to join the prospective race across the water. They reason that proving themselves as the fastest flier might get Queen Nyrissa to notice them once she arrives.
Meanwhile, the fey that can't fly continue to levy wagers, betting coins, gems, rare plants, jewelry, and other oddments.
Stayven and Tegan also find themselves quietly approached by other colorful fey who offer to magically grant them flight so they can join the impromptu race, reasoning that "You look pretty quick, wings or no, and I could stand to win a few bits off of these other rubes."
Stayven gives a slim smile, ”Can’t say I’ve ever flown before, but there’s a first time for everything. Why not?”
Before flying, Stayven takes a moment to study the map he’s made of the city and the surroundings.
He then pulls a small vial containing an alchemical solution from his pack, knocking back the sour-tasting brew. The effects work quickly and he feels his reflexes sharpen while his senses dull slightly.
Warren laughs at the fey and gets ready to race. He tries to prod Hoot into joining, and translates his response.
"Hoot will be critiquing the race and looking for foul and fowl play. I am in good gentlemen."
Warren transforms into a huge eagle and test flaps his wings before joining.
As Ahto rushes in the front, because there is no other portal or doorway, she will cover the back, flinging the door open and stepping inside. She holds her breath except for a single phrase to the woman, hoping to demoralize her to not act.
"Yeah! You are surrounded!" she shouts with authority in her voice.
To Ahto, it may seem cute to have Pelipe seem larger than life. It could use some work. Like a cute little Souris herself. In comparison, she can easily be seen as not very effective, particularly given his intimidating nature, but to Jocelyn, it may well be enough to scare her into not moving.
When she sees the little Souris running for his life, she speaks to it:
"To me little one, I'll keep you safe. You did well recovering these."
She will hold out her hand for the Souris and will dip low so it can use her arm as a ramp. It knows the consequences for stealing anymore, but it appears Pelipe is not in the least mad at it for what it has already done.
Katrine tests the back door to see if it's locked.
Katrine kicks in the unlocked back door and finds Jocelyn practically frozen in place by Lord Ahto's command. A grimace of blended fear and anger plays across the tanner's face. A number of personal belongings are clutched in her arms, making it clear that she was in the process of packing up and skipping town when you arrived.
The Souris easily escapes the immobilized Jocelyn. The fey critter leaps into Pelipe's hand and scampers up her arm. It begins shoving the keys against Pelipe's cheek, wordlessly but insistently telling her to take them.
...
Down by the lake, Stayven is in for a surprise.
One of the fey eager to get their own racer in the competition sidles up to Tegan and casts a spell upon her that allows her to fly without wings.
However, Stayven is approached by a fey that lays a different kind of spell upon him. His limbs are overcome by pins and needles, and the world shifts around him as his perspective changes with his body. When the dizzying transformation is finished, Stayven finds that he has been polymorphed into a swan.
Pelipe chuckles and takes the keys from this cutie's little paws and gives him a light pet on the cheek.
"What a hero," she comments to reassure the little Souris. It did take a lot of guts to run back and tell the truth. Pelipe is positive it just did it for fun, and perhaps on the urging of Jocelyn, but the fact that when it was faced with the wrongdoing of its nature, it did the right thing (or at least sought to restore order) is a good sign to her. "This little one may have just saved someone's life."
"Now, drop those things, get down on your knees with them crossed and put your hands behind you."
Stayven gives an indignant honk as if to say, ”What the hell?”
"Now, drop those things, get down on your knees with them crossed and put your hands behind you."
"I can't," Jocelyn growls bitterly.
"A spell, then." Pelipe must not have cast it, since she told Jocelyn to get on the ground when the former tanner couldn't obey. Katrine puts her bow and arrow away, then starts rummaging through her pack for some rope. Their captive will need to be released from the spell in order to get to the jail. "Aha! Ahto, if you'll lift the spell, I can tie her hands. Unless you have a set of manacles on you?" She wouldn't put it past him. Ahto seems to prefer capturing enemies to killing them.
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Ahto retrieves his manacles from his belt and approaches. He fastens them to one of Jocelyn's wrists, grips the other firmly, then says to Katrine and Pelipe, "If you have short blades, draw them and place them at her throat. I will release the spell and manacle her. If she resists, strike for her throat and heart."
Assuming the others take position, he releases the spell and clamps the empty manacle on her other wrist, securing her hands behind her back.
"Jocelyn Stroud," he places particular emphasis on her family name, "you are under arrest for Treason, Espionage, and Mayhem."
Katrine nods and draws her dagger, putting it to Jocelyn's throat as requested.
Pelipe will attempt to locate the position of the heart on the opposite side at Jocelyn's back and will draw her dagger to place it there. At least with haste, they are far more deadly. She is not much of a combatant though. Once she is bound and pinned with rope, Pelipe will attempt to relax a bit before rifling through her possessions and gear, assuming she comes without resistance. It was eerie being in the presence of a saboteur. Pelipe is shaken a bit, as she has endured assassins and the like before. She feels sick to her stomach, or maybe it is just the foul cloud in here. The sooner they get out of this building, the better.
Jocelyn offers no resistance as the trio descend upon her and carry out the arrest. As you move her limbs to restrain and bind her, you notice that her muscles remain tense and rigid. There is a fear and uncertainty that grips her, playing across her face and eyes as Lord Ahto mentions her family name.
"What have you done to my mother and aunts?" she demands repeatedly, the words coming out from a strange borderland between fear and anger.
Finally, once she is secured and hauled out from the tannery, her expression becomes one of bemused resignation.
"Perhaps I should thank you," she muses, looking around the fey-infested Horace. "From what I've heard from these wretched little creatures, quite the spectacle is about to erupt upon all that you have built, so I think I'll enjoy the front-row seats that you'll provide."
...
Warren, Monty and Tuney all compete as a trio of eagles, and Monty and Tuney will be helping Warren draft to get more speed at the end.
Warren, having trained to fly since he could partially shape into an eagle, has an exceptional run.
She will do a quick search of the room. Jocelyn was clearly on her way out, so she thankfully has everything packed up for them, but Pelipe makes sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Any materials that can be considered evidence she will recover and carry with them as they return to the keep for Jocelyn's trial. Pelipe honestly hopes justice is swift in this case, and it may help to curb the wild behavior of fey in the area as well.
"They're alive, unfortunately. Lord Ahto wouldn't let me kill them." Katrine scowls at the memory. Hopefully the Strouds will violate their terms of surrender at some point and she'll be able to finish the job properly. The only good hag is a dead hag.
With Jocelyn manacled and under control, the ranger starts searching the tannery for anything interesting. Maybe she'll have kept letters from the Strouds or something.
As it turns out, being turned into a swan does not guarantee any amount of inherent skill at flying. In fact, the difficulty of translating human thoughts into bird motions is crippling to Stayven’s performance. He flies, most definitely, but not very well.
At first, Pelipe has trouble discerning what is evidence and what is merely the tools of the tanning trade. Awls, scrapers, hooks, and so many blades adorn the walls and racks of the workspace.
However, Katrine quickly seizes upon some letters found in the travel bag that Jocelyn packed. The letters are written in a pidgin of Common and Giant that she recognizes is often used by hag covens to encode their messages. Once deciphered, they will surely provide evidence of the Strouds directing their child to undermine Tamlyn as part of their schemes.
...
Meanwhile, down by the lake, the great flying race is off!
Warren takes an immediate and commanding lead. A couple fey, including the elf-faced parrot fey who initiated the challenge, are close behind.
Stayven, Monty, and Tuney are in the middle of the pack, with a gathlain huffing and puffing to keep up at the rear.
The most challenging part of the race proves to be not outpacing the competition but pressing onward through the intensifying rain and maneuvering through the gusts of wind.
As you venture across the Tuskwater, you notice an uncannily placid eye to the storm, centered upon a tower situated on an island in the smaller lake adjoining the Tuskwater to the southwest. Some font of magic seems to be pouring forth from the tower, perhaps the source of the unnatural storm.
"How opportune to catch you on your way out of town. And with everything you likely have had hidden for many months on your person," she smirks as they continue on toward the keep. She walks next to Ahto and slightly behind, but her eyes are mostly on the fey who may still be causing chaos.
"Aha!" Katrine triumphantly waves the letters at Ahto and Pelipe. "They're written in a mixture of Common and Giant that hag covens often use to encode messages. I can't read it, but I've seen it before. Do either of you know Giant, or know someone who does?"
"I've studied some of the languages of giants. There is a plethora of old ruins near my home, and numerous books in our library written in giant. I can make short work of it," she winks to Katrine and takes the letters.
As you haul Jocelyn and the collected evidence out of the tannery, you do find that Horace seems perceptibly calmer, even if only by a few shades. A bit of fearful respect has been instilled into the visiting fey, making some of the smaller or less powerful ones play nicely with the local population.
You also notice that a large number of fey have gathered around the shores of the Tuskwater and are spectating some manner of race across the lake.
Once they are back in the safety of the keep, Pelipe will begin to transcribe the details of the letters and notes in Giant. She also will look through her window toward the lake to try to see what is going on down there. Could this be the arrival of the queen? Her heart beats faster, urging her to press forward to translate the documents as quickly and as accurately as possible.
If she is capable of finishing, she will present her findings in as much detail as she can to Ahto privately before they start proceedings. This way, he can trap Jocelyn in her words if she doesn't confess all.
Once again, Stayven's really not able to get a handle on his new swan body as the group flies towards the storm.
"Hell, at least I can swim if I go down."
"Huh, I wonder what's going on over there?" Katrine squints at the crowd by the lake. Probably fey, given the variety of sizes and shapes present, but even her archer's eye can't tell any more than that. "Ahto, you want to check that out once you're done with Jocelyn and Pelipe's done translating?"
The eagles stay low to avoid the higher currents.
Warren flaps awkwardly missing a critical adjustment to the currents.
Tegan rides grounded on her griffon while admiring Warren's eagles in flight. She strokes Griffon's head affectionately, murmuring something endearing. She looks over at Warren and Stayven, "excellent game. I wish I could keep up but the armor weighs us down!" She graciously accepts her limitations while stoking the griffon's fur. The animal's head turns to land one sharp eye on her, as if judging.
Despite the soothing, affectionate caresses, the animal seems agitated. Frowning, Tegan looks over at what's drawing everyone's - including her griffon's - attention. "That... doesn't look natural, does it?" The paladin wishes she knew more about nature. She encourages the griffon onward to catch up to the other new recruits.
"Warren! Stayven! What is that?"
Pelipe quickly deciphers the Strouds' messages. The oldest ones are instructions and advice for Jocelyn to destabilize Tamlyn, but they are then joined by queries asking whether the time is right for the elder Strouds to bring Brother Grunt and their sons around for a "bit of fun." All of these messages seem to predate your encounter with the Stroud family out in the wild.
After them, though, comes a very insistent letter instructing Jocelyn to abandon the town and flee home at once. This seems to immediately follow the party's encounter with the Strouds. You aren't sure whether Jocelyn chose not to obey her mother and aunts' instructions or if the arrival of the fey kept her in town a bit longer.
Along the lake, the fey in the race seem to wordlessly, unanimously decide that the island tower at the eye of the storm would serve as a perfect waypoint for the competition. They attempt to loop around the old, partially ruined tower, but whether it be the winds or the magical energies, their flight is thrown off and the racers are partially scattered.
Warren, Tegan, Stayven, and their other winged companions are able to gain a decisive advantage in the race.
However, they are now faced with a decision.
Although you now have a chance to win the race outright and claim whatever prizes and wagers the fey have at stake, you could also descend and perhaps stamp out the source of the unnatural storm roiling across the lake.
"I have often wondered how Jocelyn and the Strouds were communicating. It seems by post! I imagine that Jocelyn sends this to a town the Strouds are most likely to be nearest to, and then they send, probably, a small, innocent-looking child to pick up their mail. It would not surprise me...Then they probably do the same here: send a child to send a message to Horace. We'd never have suspected it had they not done evil and attacked those poor people and we confronted them. In fact, had one being in this situation actually done what was not evil, even if to just not act, this would have never seen the light of day. I love the will of the gods sometimes!" she laughs, as what glorious lucky fate for them to perfectly connect all of these dots. "When I saw Mr. Souris running off...I just knew I had to follow him." She beams a smile to Ahto.
"In any case, I have the evidence. We can bring her out for justice as you will, my lord."
Personally, she doens't see any need to wait. Let the payment for her betrayal be put on her head without any chance of redemption by the Strouds, this coming Queen, or any other unknown spy lingering around.
Obviously not having a shot at winning the race, Stayven descends towards the island.
”Now how the Hells do I unswan myself?”
Warren waves Tuney on, who continues to win the race. Warren cries out to Hoot and descends with Montey while Hoot spurs into action.
Racing was beneath Hoot, but flying into a storm, that was worthy of his energy. Hoot takes off behind the others and headed to the source of the storm.
Katrine shakes her head, incredulous. "Hags sending their agents messages through the mail, like a farmer writing to his daughter who moved to town. Just when I think I've seen everything, the world finds new and exciting ways to prove me wrong."
"Do not lose heart, Katrine. For every repugnant behavior that those in this world bring about, there are thousands of normal, every day, good acts being done to counter it." She smirks, "The biggest con job is evil people convincing common people that those who are evil are far superior in numbers and far more deadly. Take this 'queen' who is coming. She would conjure up the chaos in many, but I still see a city full of people willing to stand for what is right and good. The chaos around us distracts us from that. With the proper inspiration, every man, woman, and child in this city would pick up arms for good. I'm sure of it."
"Listening to what some of these fey have been saying...I think the cruelest fate to which we can condemn you is letting you stay the course," she says more seriously. "I am proud of carrying my mother's magical blood in my veins, but I have also cursed my mortal father, fearing that I had inherited his human frailties. There were times whilst observing mother and her sisters preparing potions and rituals that my nerve faltered and I felt queasy, and I feared that they could see right through me and pick apart my failings. I feared that they, my family, would only ever see the human parts of me.
"This creature that's coming, Nyrissa...? There is nothing human about her will or mind, I can feel it. She is capable of things I wonder if even my mother could dream of. You should be afraid. You should be very afraid."
No sooner does Stayven set foot back on land and drag his swan-y self up the pebbly each but he feels his body stretch and his limbs growing back to their old proportions. Perhaps by virtue of having thus, essentially, forfeiting the race he has also forfeited the fey spell put upon him.
The tower is little more than a crumbling ruin, a hollow cylinder of stone some forty feet high, sitting upon a pedestal of rubble both inside and out. Thick storm clouds swirl like a whirlpool overhead. Long, strange shadows haunt the curious angles of the tower's curving walls, occasionally dispelled for a fleeting moment by a flash of lightning in the conjured storm. Despite the pelting rain and wind, the island proves to be a relative...well, island of calm in the greater maelstrom.
You can hear strange music and chanting, singing voices coming from within the hollow tower.
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"Your loyalty to your family is commendable, if misplaced," Ahto replies. "You should know that your mother and her sisters offered you up in exchange for their own lives, just as they sent several of your siblings to their deaths for the same reason. Nevertheless, that information is irrelevant to the current proceedings, as is your mention of this ubiquitous Nyrissa, who has yet to present herself despite the riotous fanfare indicating, we presume, that she will do so. Now, back to your trial. Do you have anything to say in your defense for committing treason against Tamlyn, including engaging in acts of sabotage that caused death and injury to your fellow citizens?" Ahto once again looks at Jocelyn expectantly.