Bliznap does as is instructed and takes care in playing axactly what is directed.
He then listens to what the lady asks and begins pondering the names.
Wendel thinks on the names the Lady had announced.
...on Richemuloise
... Alain Baton
”My name is Stanrick. The desire to feed the hungry is admirable,” for a moment he is taken aback by her beauty. Glancing at the other woman to see if she noticed his reaction, he then indicates the ground. ”I was trying to make sense of the tracks here, to learn how many did this and where they came from. Also there’s a missing man too I was hoping to find. Are you both searching for him as well? He’s my priority —”
Stanrick’s words are interrupted by a man in black armor and a red cloak appearing from the woods. Two others join him quickly and issue their questions. Isabeau answers them first.
He adds, ”Isabeau has the truth of it. Stanrick the herbalist, at your service. I’m on my way to Levkarest with five peach tree cuttings, of rare variety and exceptional fruit, as a gift to Lady Ivana and her groom.” He bows, then angles his spear against his right shoulder in a nonthreatening manner, tip pointed away from the men.
You recognize them by their badges not as Enforcers but as Procurers, which under Ivana have changed from being simple bean-counters to a sort army of militarized tax collectors. They are also charged with enforcing the law to a degree, but it is definitely a secondary task. As best you can tell, they are here to try to find the killer.
The guard looks at Lucia's introduction and gives a slight bow.
"Pardon me, madam," he says. "I had no way of knowing who you were. Is there anything you can do?" His gesture encompasses the body, the web and the clearing in general.
As Isabeau and Stanrick speak, the three guards exchange glances. The one who seems to be in charge finally gives a not as if reaching some kind of conclusion. He extends his hand to Isabeau in a curiously courtly gesture.
"You'll take me to this woman." He turns to speak to the other two guards. "One of you, secure this location. The other, find that man. Odds are, he's the killer. He wouldn't have run if he were innocent."
Before he leaves, he gives a second bow to Lucia, and says to her and Stanrick. "You are both free to go on your way, but you will need to report to Ivan Dilisnya as soon as you're in the city. Look for him at the Dilisnya townhouse on High Street.
The gnome plays softly, beautifully in the background.
Ivana turns to Bane with a cool smile and leans towards him. She is clearly a woman not ashamed to use her beauty to get what she wants, and her voice is a whisper that suggests intimacy, while carrying to the ears of all in the room.
"All the resources of Levkarest will be at the disposal of whoever brings the tramp here." One of her servants whispers in her ear. "Yes. That includes the rat-catcher. I thought he would be most suitable to catch a Richemuloise girl. Bring the girl here, leave her with Grasime."
"Now leave me. Everyone."
Isabeau's eyes widen slightly in surprise as she takes in the exchange between the guard and the cloaked and now silent woman. She turned her perplexed gaze back toward her for a moment, considering. She spoke before, I'm sure. Did I hear correctly? The daylight streaming through the trees had taken on a surreal bent all of a sudden and Isa began to ask herself if she was not dreaming.
As the guard extended his arm toward her, she lifted her gaze to his face, locking her intensely blue eyes on his. She nodded and said, "Yes, of course..." She glanced over his uniform and made her best guess at his rank, hoping to err on the side of overestimating so as not to offend the man. "...Captain? Forgive me, I am not familiar with the insignia of rank used here." She smiled slightly and takes his proffered arm. She nods to Stanrick and the beauty with the strange voice and leads him back the way they came, "I think perhaps the gentleman I traveled here with remained behind with the woman. She claimed to have spent the night here and found the dead man when she woke."
The best way to hunt was in parties, with hounds. If this was his chance to find his daughter Bane would burn in Hell before he allowed it to slip by him. Nodding at Lady Ivana, Bane tipped his widebrimmed hat. "I'll deliver the whore unto you, my Lady." he said with ice in his voice. Unfaithfulness being a sore spot for him.
Standing now he made no attempt to appear small or out of the way, his coat open exposing the leather armor and crossbow beneath it, with a longsword at his hip. Protruding over his shoulder was the great falchion he had custom fitted to be worn under his cape, his belt adorned with pouches and small vials.
As he stood he spoke, "Wendel perhaps we hunt together? Walking around the table he stopped in front of the malformed hunched creature huddled in the corner. "What manner of monster are you?...No matter can you track? Dog." Turning to the gnome, Bane took in the little blue man. "And what of you Maestro? A man of your..., connections could be the greatest of boons."
At the guard's question of aid, she looks to the strung up man with sadness. When her gaze returns to the guard, she frowns a pitiful sorrowful look. Her gaze then slowly moves to the ground as she shakes her head not being able to do a thing for the dead glutton. Eyes. She could feel eyes on her. She looks over to Isabeau giving her a quizzical look and gives the slightest of shrugs as if her silence couldn't be helped. As she walks away with Stanrick, Lucia follows a dozen steps behind to make it seem like she is not following them. The truth was that she had no where else to go. She was supposed to make her way to the city, but her presence was not expected for another day or two. She was intensely curious about these two though and couldn't help but watch how they interacted with their surroundings. How they interacted with others. At the very least, maybe she could learn something new from these apparently kind souls.
Track...yes...can...I can track...umm...sir...
Garold looks intimidated by the man before him, and stutters his reply.
You want I should track this... lady...well...if I had...tracks... to follow...
Garold fumbles absently with a ragged hem, carefully avoiding eye contact.
I can definitely provide much in the way of information. Other than that, I am afraid I can only offer inspiration and a small amount of magical aptitude. We should be able to track this whore down soon enough.
Bliznap gently begins putting away his violin, taking care not to risk any kind of damage to the instrument. After stowing the instrument, he focuses on Bane.
We should begin by speaking with those who are frequenting the taverns around the gate where the road from Levkarest enters. Hopefully we can get a description of the girl from someone there. If we are lucky, one of them will have seen a woman with Lord Baton whose description does not match that of the beautiful Lady Boritsi.
After that he moves to the stairs.
Please gather your thoughts and I will meet you upstairs.
Before leaving he bows to the Lady.
M'lady
With a quick jerk of his hand toward the stair, Bane motions for the hunchback to follow the gnome up the stairs, and with a nod to Wendel, follows him up.
At the top of the stairs Bane buttons his coat. "My name is Bane Dahrkhand, Maestro. I am a professional monster hunter, but I fear that will be of little use in finding a helpless girl." he says with a look of regret in his eye. "I will follow your lead, so long as that when I act, you do not stand in my way." Looking to the hunchback ((if he followed)) "You have a name ratcatcher? You know I've hunted rats before, the kind that become men."
Things are moving a bit faster than is comfortable for Wendel. He wasn't in the city to do the bidding of yet another noble family. His own family was enough, by Ezra!
But this was the dark lady Boritsi. Her leverage in the city, her influence...if his quarry was someone of little importance to her perhaps finding this mistress would bring his own search to a close. He'd get this Cerny Zvonek, bag him up and bring him back to Sturben. Then...then Wendel would be free of his family and could strike out on his own.
At the word of the lady, Wendel gathers his things and prepares to leave...he's eager to get out of this place. For all its trappings and the fine tasting wine, it feels like a pit, maybe a grave. Plus, he isn't all that keen to be considered a degenerate by the lady. All things considered, she is probably 100 fold worse than any of the others in the room.
"Wendel perhaps we hunt together? Bane says, striding past him. The warrior responds with a nod of agreement. Then Bane begins addressing the others in the room.
Not so sure, 'friend'... Wendel thinks to himself. Hunter of sentient beings, eh Bane?" The words intrigue Wendel, but like the feeling he'd had walking into the Dark Maiden, he wonders if he needs to just head back the other way.
Bane works the room like a professional, causing Wendel to wonder if maybe he's out of his depth. Maybe there are other ways of seeking out Cerny...
...wait, did he say 'monster'? Wendel looks to the corner and sees a hunched figure step forward and reply. Another lump of fear threatens to pull the gorge from his stomach and propel it out his mouth. "By the Crucible..." His hand instinctively goes to the handle of his flail...but he notes something the misshapen man's eyes...the ratcatcher the lady had mentioned. By the gods he is hard to view.
But Wendel, knowing the unmerciful tones his brother Walder had used on one of their servant girls back home, felt pity for him. The creature...the man!...appears strong and able despite his deformities. And his eyes, when Wendel can view them, show a good measure of intelligence mixed with the fear.
Bane turns away from him, satisfied with the answer and directs his attention to the gnomish bard. Wendel takes the opportunity to shoulder his pack and step over to the ratcatcher to greet him. "Name's Wendel. I'm assuming yours is not ratcatcher...or monster..." Wendel whispers the last, and extends a hand of greeting to the fearful man.
...looking up, but only for a moment before following the gnome... Garold. Name is...Garold.
Bliznap nods at Bane and looks over the others.
We have much to do, and I am sure M'Lady would not like to be kept waiting. Let's head for the Last Laugh, and see if we can pick up a trail of our mystery woman.
He looks at Wendel.
I don't know your profession, but you look... Capable.
Bliznap looks at the Garold.
I know what it is like to be looked down upon, so I will not treat you with ill will. However, most humans will look upon you with disgust. While we are gathering information, I would like you to stay out of sight to make my job easier.
He motions for the door.
My name is Bliznap, shall we depart? I will try to get us to our destination without incident, please keep up.
At Bliznap's behest, Bane heads out of the front door into the street looking both ways to ascertain if there were any immediate danger while waiting for the rest to follow him out.
...hearing a friendly voice, Garold turns and takes the offered hand, peering up cautiously...
…ah...thank you. Wendel.
He pronounces the name carefully... respectfully... and then continues up the stairs.
"Pleasure, Garold." Wendel watches Garold leave. Bane is already heading towards the stairs. Hunter of sentients...hunter of monsters...hmmm... Boy oh boy, Wendel. What kind of lovely mess have you gotten yourself into?
He glances back to the lady and her entourage, then moves on after Garold and the rest. The sooner they found this canoodling - and insanely stupid - mistress, the sooner he could ask his question of the dark lady, find Zvonek, then get the hells out of Levkarest!
When he gets to the top of the stairs and they head for the exit, Wendel listens to the gnomish bard outline their first steps. The warrior nods at is assessment and leaves it at that. "You can call me Wendel."
Then he unlimbers his crossbow and loads it and follows the group out of the Dark Maiden and into the night. Something tells him there will be plenty of reasons to carry a loaded weapon in the very near future.
The sign over the door of the Last Laugh is carved to resemble a gravestone, and the tavern itself is situated across from the Great Cathedral's cemetery. It is a tiny hole in the wall, and the faces of the men on either side of the bar suggest that the last laugh heard here was at least a generation past. They recognize the gnome, though, and though they don't precisely smile, there is a slight thinning of the dour atmosphere as the barkeep moves to pour him his usual.
The men who drink here are the city's gravediggers, and when business is slow, they are smugglers, tunnelers, keepers of many secrets.
"Captain? Oh no, ma'am, I'm just a regular officer of our Lady's Procurer's. The other two, they're new, see? They look to me a bit, that's all." The officer grins, a bit proud and a bit nervous, strolling through the forest as if he hadn't just left the scene of a murder. He rambles on awkwardly, explaining the importance of paying taxes regularly, and trying to make the collecting of such sound as heroic an endeavor as he can.
Until you reach the road. A wagon is rolling slowly along, but there's no sight of Marissa. The guard sighs and his hand clamps down hard on your wrist. He puts his other hand on the hilt of his sword, but he sounds almost apologetic.
"I was really hoping your mystery woman would be here. Why don't you tell me what really happened now, ma'am? You understand, I don't want to be hard with you, but someone's getting their neck stretched over this, and I'm not going to let that be me."
The eyeless sockets disturb him. The cruelty of it; the fact that it was so unnecessary. Maybe Volfill knows if it’s a message or if it’s a sign of a cult. Unless it’s a normal custom in Levkarest now? Have things changed that? But I never saw a corpse, well close-up, as a child, so maybe it happened back then.
”Ivan Dilisnya,” Stanrick repeats the name the Procurer said. ”Townhouse on High Street.”
Stanrick bows to the quiet woman and follows Isabeau back to the road. He feels the quiet woman walking behind him, so turns slightly and gives her a smile. She must be important. Papers that the Procurers respect. Maybe she’s one of them, disguised as a traveler. He turns back and steps closer towards Isabeau and the Procurer.
”Excuse me sir. The corpse had its eyes removed. Is that common in Levkarest or does that mean anything to you?”
Once at the road, events take a twist that Stanrick didn’t expect. The Procurer has Isabeau by the wrist. ”Sir! Please sir, there’s no need for that. My master was with the girl and my wedding present. Let me find him. And your friend, what was his name?” he asks Isabeau.
”Volfill!” he calls. ”Master Volfill!” He checks the throng for Volfill, searches the ground and nearby trees for any druidic marks that might explain where Volfill went.
Seeing the man in the web had been a shock to Sergei's already fragile psyche. He'd stood his ground, but he trembled and had a difficult time moving.
He turned away and spent quite a while gathering his wits. By the time the roaring in his ears and the screams in his mind subsided he realized that Isabeau was leaving. He was glad she had things so well in hand and mentally kicked himself for not being much help.
With nothing else to be done, he simply followed while she tracked down the authorities.
Her eyes narrow and blood begins to boil as she sees the grab at Isabeau's wrist. Her teeth clench and fists balled. Her breathing quickens as she moves closer, but holds her tongue just a bit longer.
What do you mean I don't know what the situation is yet? He is going to hurt her. I know that look. He does not care who he arrests as long as he arrests someone.
That is right. You should stab him in the ribs and be finished with it. He is a procurer. I doubt he would put up too much of a f...
No. No one will get hurt if it can be helped.
She takes a big calming breath and circles the two slowly and non-threateningly, moving down and around road the a bit, close enough to see and hear but in the direction of the town to block their progress if he started hauling her that way. She prepares herself for an altercation and forces herself into a calmer state ready to shatter her facade of normalcy to help this woman.
She is a stranger! Why would you put yourself in harms way for a stranger?!
She could have attacked me back there. She could have struck me down the moment she heard my voice. Did you see her weapons? She is no novice to combat. But she didn't. It is only right I return the favor. Now shush. I need to focus.
Not sure how to approach the situation, Wendel stays in the background waiting for the gnome and Bane to ask their questions. The warrior eyes Garold, giving a nod of confidence, but mouths to him...Keep your eyes open.
Wendel searches the denizens of the macabre tavern, seeing if anyone looks like he's going to run or spoil for a fight.
They seem friendly enough towards the bard's arrival...but these were scum...worse, grave digging scum. He lets his crossbow hang from the sling, right hand resting on the butt of the weapon.
He wonders absently if he should inquire after Cerny Zvonek...
Fear grips Isabeau's chest in an icy grip as she realizes the man's intentions. In her head, Rake's voice snarled again. See there, just like I always said... No good deed goes unpunished.
She raises her free hand in a placating gesture. "Now let's don't be rash. I've been honest with you. Stanrick saw the woman as well, as did some others." She looks around with an expression of mounting anxiety as she searches for Sergei or anyone to corroborate her story. A wave of greatful relief washes over her as Stanrick speaks out and she sees the others had followed.
Summoning what composure she can under the circumstances, she tries to sway the Procurer of his course, "Besides, I always intended to help find the murderer. I do have some small measure of experience in that regard and I can promise you I'm more valuable working with you on this than I would be as a scapegoat. I can be of service to you... Come now, you cannot tell me you don't find the idea appealing..."
She hated to resort to such vulgar tactics, but she was not about to let a tool lay idle in her arsenal while her life might hang in the balance.
Something had just come to mind at that moment. Watching Isabeau attempt to speak her way out of the situation, Lucia realized that the woman WAS missing. Where had she gone? Hadn't she been distraught? Wouldn't she wait for word of her so called love? Something felt strange and a foulness permeated the surroundings of this predicament. Lucia focused her senses and took a close look around at the crowd to see if the woman was still in the vicinity.
Garold slides into the shadows, unsure of this place, and as Wendell suggested, stays alert.
The Procurer relaxes and then releases his grip on Isabeau's arm, though his other hand stays on the hilt of his sword. His eyes dart nervously as he sees that the other three have followed, and he is now alone with the four of you. Shaking his head in frustration he lets go of the sword as well, and finally steps close to Isabeau to whisper.
"I don't know what your role in this is, but I know what mine will be," his voice is hoarse. "I'll let you go, because I don't want to see you hang for something you didn't do. If you've any regard at all for my life, find out who did this, and bring proof to Dilisnya on High Street." His face is bleak as he steps back and turns to return to where the body still hangs.
A moment after he's gone, Volfill emerges from the forest on the side of the road.
"The girl fled as soon as she heard the guard's whistle," he tells Stanrick. "She feared that they would torture her until she revealed her companion's name, and she insisted on their innocence. I followed her a short way, but I couldn't leave the cuttings unattended, and I thought you would want to know."
Bliznap sees one of his familiar contacts, and approaches him as he normally does (with coin in hand). Dropping a small pouch on the table in front of him he speaks. He takes a drink from his cup and takes in the scene ensuring no one can hear what he is saying.
I need information in regards to a woman traveling with Lord Baton from Levkarest. If they have entered the city it would have been through this gate and I know you control the information here. We need a description of the woman, her last known whereabouts, and her description. We wish to be discreet, so do keep to our usual arrangement.
Following the group in Bane takes in the dim setting. His eyes passing over the gruff looking men, scrutinizing each and every one with a sharp and piercing gaze. He walks up to the bar and orders a drink, trying to stay within earshot of Bliznap whilst not scaring away the man's contact.
On the Road
Isabeau felt her heart leap within her chest as she saw her fate shifting in his eyes but she does not pull away when he releases his hold and steps close. She regards the Procurer solemnly and nods her assent to his terms. "Yes, I understand. I give you my word, I will come."
She watches him walk away, and finds herself thinking about what might be waiting for the Procurer at home. Wife? Children? An aging father to chide him for falling asleep at temple. Someone, at least, she was sure. And she was determined to keep her promise and keep him coming home to them, regardless of the outcome.
After he had gone beyond her sight, she breathed a deep sigh of relief, leaning forward and bracing herself slightly with her hand above her knee. She shakes her head in disbelief for a moment and then turns to the two strangers who seemed to have saved her from an untimely demise simply by their presence.
"Thank you, Stanrick. Both of you, thank you. I suspect I might be in irons now if the two of you had not supported me. I know not what to think of a place where a law-keepers life is forfeited so swiftly and needlessly. But it seems a job has found me and I mean to see it through. Sergei, I'll understand if you want to go on your way. I'm going to try and catch up with the woman who fled. Sir, which direction did she go?" She turns to Volfill at this last question.
"I'm not going anywhere." Sergei said with a shake of his head. "From the looks of things around here, you're going to need someone to keep these idiots from pawing at you every time you try to help someone." He gave the joker calling himself a agent of law and order a flat, spiteful look and shook his head.
"Lead the way."
Lucia turns to the three and bounces on the balls of her feet a few times as if limbering up for some unseen fight. The run in with the Procurer get her blood pumping and she needed to let off some steam. She took a deep breath and began forward with the others following close in step, but staying fare enough away as to not stumble or be a hindrance to the search.
”You did the right thing, Volfill,” Stanrick says, attaching the cuttings to the exterior of his backpack with twine. Satisfied they are secure, he puts his backpack on and sighs.
”So she’s gone? Ohhhh with my cloak! We couldn’t find her friend, though we didn’t get much chance to look. There was a man hung in a rope, knotted and tied like a web, with his throat cut and his eyes...missing. It was terrible. Have you heard of the like?” he asks Volfill in a quiet voice.
Sir, which direction did she go?” She turns to Volfill at this last question.
Volfill describes the way she went using trees, weeds, and the number of foot strides as guides. When he finishes, Stanrick sighs, and grumbles: ”She’s trouble. I can feel it. Is it worth getting my cloak back? It’s only two years old. Freshly dyed and bright as a cardinal. It’d be easier to find her now than waiting until tomorrow. I’ll meet you in Levkarest, Master. You go on ahead, secure our lodgings. If it’s not at the place we discussed, leave word for me at the Luna Truffle. Hopefully it hasn’t gone out of business.”
He nods and smiles at Isabeau. ”You’re welcome. I just spoke my mind with the Procurer. So you’re both skilled in finding people? I’m a decent tracker. It looks like you’re coming too?” he addresses the other woman since she is heading in the direction Volfill said the woman went.
In mid stride, she stutter steps at Stanrick's words. She spins on her heels an gives a quizzical head tilt to him and blinks a bit vacant. She looks around and realizes that she was following the other two without so much as a request for companionship. Mulling over the thought for a bit, she decided she would follow until someone gave objections to her presence, nodded to her self and giggled. She then returned Stanrick's gaze with an impish smile and gestures for him to hurry along, followed by a few claps as if this were an exciting adventure before beckoning one more time.
Her sway in emotion was a bit odd and hard to follow. A moment ago she was a bit dark and seemed upset. The sway of the pendulum brought those emotions to the direct opposite being excited and chipper. Her cherubic grin was warm and inviting and filled with a child-like wonder. She then spun back around and continued onward following Isabeau once more and resuming her search. A slight flutter of her cloak showed a glint of bright polished scales hidden beneath its folds. On closer inspection, the hilt of an old warn looking sword hilt could be seen peeking up over her collar as if she purposefully tried to conceal all of this under the trappings of the single limited length of her cloak.
"Baton's been in town three days now, staying in the boat house of Misericordia, but he didn't come with any women." The man gives a knowing grin. "Of course, there are dozens of men and women in town from Richemulot for the wedding. Might be one of them is the one you're looking for. Now, as to which one is the one you're looking for? She'd be the one he visits on the sly. See who's coming and going from that boathouse, and you'll find her."
The tracks lead haphazardly through the woods, first heading directly away from the road, and then suggesting uncertainty, zig-zagging back and forth but broadly curving towards the city walls. The trail approaches within a few hundred yards of the walls before it cuts away, following the path of a stream flowing down towards the river. After another quarter of a mile, the tracks climb the banks of the stream, heading back towards the city, but almost immediately they reach a small stone chapel, nearly buried in vines and with a gaping hole in the roof.
One of the double doors still stands solidly in place, but the other has come off its hinges and fallen away, allowing you to see inside, where the light spilling through the roof falls on an altar still covered with a rich silk cloth and two gold candlesticks.
Bliznap nods at the man in thanks and raises his drink to him.
To you my friend, until we meet again.
He finishes the drink and puts it on the table. Then he throws down a gold piece for his drink and his contacts. He tips his hat and begins to leave the tavern, motioning for his companions to do the same.
Wendel stands to the side as the rest of the group departs just as quickly as they'd arrived. I wonder...perhaps this may be as good a place to start... The warrior locks in his mind that he'll return to the Last Laugh to ask questions later.
As the group leaves, he makes an attempt to look tough, making sure no one gets it in their heads to cause trouble. He glances Garold's way and uses his eyes to indicate it's time to leave.
...verifying no one is looking to follow the group.
...just standing there looking tough as everyone exits the establishment.
Once everyone's out, Wendel, right hand still resting on the butt of his crossbow where it's slung across his chest, brings up the rear.
Garold slips out the side door and trails the party, staying to the shadows along the street, heading for the wharf...
With the their business apparently concluded, Bane follows his party out allowing Wendel to bring up the rear. Once outside, he pauses, "We have a lead Maestro?" he asks the Gnome. "The sooner we conclude this the sooner I can.."he trails off, staring into space.
Our destination is the boat house of Misericordia. There we should find many women who came with the powerful Lords. Looks like we will have to stake out the place to find our mark.
Bliznap takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.
Lets get some food and drink, might be a long night.
He goes to get some food that can be eaten cold, and some water and leads the others to a spot overlooking the boat house where they can observe discreetly.
"Surprisingly serene, given the decay." Sergei says moving forward to take a closer look at the broken down chapel.
Stanrick eyes the beautiful woman carefully. Her behavior appears erratic. He doesn’t try to engage her in conversation, just offers a friendly smile. She doesn’t seem harmless, nor simple-minded, but she doesn’t act like any official of Levkarest he’s seen before. Maybe things have changed greatly in the eight years he’s been gone.
”My name is Stanrick,” he offers the man, an obvious close companion of Isabeau, as they follow Marissa’s tracks.
Once at the small chapel, he nods in recognition of the man’s comments. ”I will sneak around to the back of the structure. I’ll make the call of an azure honeycatcher if there’s no exit. If I need help, expect the call of a Pilov’s bunting. Now if you here the song of a Pilov’s bunting, know that everything appears fine.” he whispers. He takes three steps before turning around. ”You do know what those sound like, yes?”
"Sergei." the big man responds with a nod, but maintaining his focus on the task at hand.
"Birds mostly sound like birds to me. I'll go in the front door. If I need help, I'll probably yell a lot."
Isabeau nods her thanks to Sergei and then turns to the others. "I won't turn away your aid, either of you. But it might not be the safest course to pursue this woman or the murderer." But she is thankful to have the company and smiles slightly without realizing it.
As they make their way, following the woman's tracks, Isabeau walks next to the beauty with the strange voice. She slows her stride to hang back from the men as they move ahead several paces. She speaks low for her ears alone...
"I don't think I was dreaming back there, was I? You can speak, but you're careful not to if you can help it? I've known folk who had to keep things about themselves hidden, so I understand. But I'd like to know your name at least. I am Isabeau."
As they come upon the stone chapel and Stanrick speaks of bird calls, Isabeau just shrugs, shaking her head slightly. She then slips toward the building quietly, slipping through the shadows. She looks for traps or other dangers as they enter.