Anophth weilds his walking cane, smacking the thing with the thicker end.
Anophth's shoves his walking stick into the wound Dramm's knife had opened up. The goblin can feel several vital organs give way and burst from the force of his thrust. Putrid gore gushes from the fatal injury, and the monster gurgles one last time before collapsing in a lifeless heap!
Anophth vomited.
It was too much. Already disposed of violence, the gore and the feel of the organs through the can overwhelmed his countenance. His stomach upturned, and he vomited, spilling forth this last two meals.
Breathing fast now, Imedren stepped in looking for any last signs of life that this monstrosity of nightmares might have. He jabbed it with his staff to make sure.
"I... I think we got it." He turned to congratulate the others when Anophth began to vomit and he turned his head away.
"Oh, Anophth that's, well better out than in I suppose." he exhaled deeply trying hard to not follow suit. "I need a drink after this. Uruuna, we need to get a drink once we're done here."
"Dramm, Tabog, are you two alright?"
Dramm is doubled over, hands on his knees. His breathing is heavy and he is looking rather ill himself. He gives a weak, confirming wave as he regains his composure.
"I'm alright, thanks to Anophth." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. The poor decision turns him green at the smell. "That was a bad idea. Far too risky. Stupid of me. Had to have been better options. Thanks for your help, Anophth. Someone should search the corpse." The talking seems to calm Dramm down. He takes stock of the group, then suddenly rights himself and stands rigidly still for a moment.
Anophth coughs. It's been a few moments, and he felt he was ready to regain his composure. He swung his pack back around and pulled out something to wash his mouth out; taking a swig and spitting it out on the floor. Looking further in his pack, he pulls out a hankercheif to wipe his face and hands, and then pulls out a vial of blue liquid.
Here, he said to Dramm. Drink this. It'll make you feel better.
Hey Bog, where did you say those people were?
Imedren nodded to Dramm and with some reservation, bent over the body of the monster to check it.
Unwrapping the linens reveals a humanoid form consisting of stitched together body parts from different people. What results is a horrid abomination, a patchwork monster. Even it's organs seem to have been harvested from its victims--indeed, one of its bulging eyes is exactly the same shade of blue as Father Gregory's...
Aside from its scalpel and surgical kit, the monster has nothing of value on it.
Dramm inspects the vial, then drinks from it. He lets out a sigh of relief as some of the pain subsides.
"Thank you again. Should... it taste like metal?" he asks the Anophth as he hands the empty vial back.
Seeing the creature's twisted and patchwork form, Dramm fights back his revulsion. He peers over Imedren's shoulder.
"Filthy work. It harvested quickly. Did it need living victims? Why not dead? Was it intelligent? A smarter creature would have used dead material if possible, draws less attention than murder. It uses tools, capable of surgery, hides itself. It probably needed living parts." Dramm continues along his usual stream of consciousness as he begins to pace. "They said a noble hired them. Nobles... powerful individuals, careful enough to protect this thing. Hide it. It must have served a purpose. More than just killing random people. Easier to hire thugs for that. What creates such a creature? Natural? No, probably not. Demonic? Possible. Necromancy? Not experienced enough to tell. Have to consider the possibility of either within the noble class. But why? Need more information. This is disturbing. Possibility of corruption and taint. Filthy. Should burn it."
Dramm stops. After several seconds, it becomes clear that his silence is one of expectation. It appears that the long stream of thoughts was directed as much at the group as it was at himself.
While he waits for the party's thoughts, Dramm bends down next to Patchwork's corpse. He draws the knife at his hip and begins to cut. He appears to be looking for something.
"Burning is good, but first should find out what I can. Something like this had to have a body to begin with, right? Something to graft to. Should search for it. What's left that isn't part of its victims? If original pieces are rotten, maybe it is undead. Would suggest necromancy? Or some other source material. If the parts are fresh, maybe it's not necromancy. Maybe it is a living creature... parasite? Demon?" Dramm's cuts lack the surgical precision of the scalpel, but his hand moves deftly as he removes organs and pulls away parts of skin. He's done this before.
Tabog is leaning against the wall as he's addressed, looking weak and irritated.
"I could be better, of course. Let's not linger long? Search the rooms and be on with it, I've a feeling that the people are gone but perhaps we were in time."
As the inspection of the patchwork man was made Tabog's heart sinks.
"I'm afraid the Gregory is no more, but there could be a chance... Let's... Dramm, what are... Why? *hurk!* okay, I'm not going to stick around while he mutilates a mutilated monster..."
Bog turns and enters the room the monster came from and looks for clues and signs of what, who and why.
Anophth flat out denies that that thing is made up of people. No, it isn't him. He's still here somewhere. Keep looking.
Normally, Anophth would readily grab up the medical supplies - they'd make a good sale later - but he's a bit out of sorts right now. As it is, he ignores them in search for Father Gregory and the rest of the missing people.
Dramm's investigation reveals a few swaths of ancient, clammy skin with a white pallor. Judging by the apparent decay, this thing must have been truly ancient, centuries old at the least. It was a living humanoid, but one possessed of accursed immortality. Whenever a body part or organ failed, it found a new one to replace it. The newest body parts haven't begun to rot yet. They are a week or less old....
Tabog remembers the secret door in the sitting room, and he directs Anophth to it. When the goblin opens the door, a horribly mutilated corpse tumbles out! Its dead eyes stare blankly at the ceiling above.
Past the corpse, a foul smell wafts up from the bottom of a descending staircase...
Once he had had a moment to collect himself, Imedren followed the Goblin with the others and saw the horror beyond the door.
The smell had been enough of a warning and his fears had been tested already.
Dramm goes as far as he can before his stomach finally gives out. He dashes into a side room to retch. He returns a short while later, collects Patchwork's belongings, then moves on after the group. His findings have... disturbed him.
The human body beyond the secret door means little to Dramm compared to the thing in the hall. He quickly informs the group of what he's found, wiping his hands on a bit of cloth from his bag.
"Was human, or something like it, once. Not anymore. Been dead and rotting for who knows how long. Decades? Maybe even centuries. It was replacing parts as it needed them." His voice isn't quite as even as it normally is when he's thinking. There's a cold hate that creeps through. "That body needs to burn. It's corrupted. Twisted. Consumed power at the cost of itself. Foolish and stupid. We should destroy for certain. I'm not even sure it's truly dead. We can't have been the first ones to try. Is... this the Father? I don't know what Gregory looks like in person."
As he relates the information, Dramm makes a quick inspection of the corpse in the study, checking to see which of the parts that he removed from Patchwork may have come from this poor soul.
He stands after inspecting. Surprisingly, he turns to TaBog, his voice monotone again. "That hurt, you know. I didn't like doing it. Was trying to help. We needed to know more."
He reaches into his pack and pulls out a stained cloth wrapped around a box, offering it to TaBog with his three-fingered hand. Inside is the surgical kit and scalpel. It seems he was trying to keep from touching them directly with his bloodied hands. "You need this."
This body does not appear to be Gregory's. indeed, Dramm discovers a horned skull in black tattooed on the inside of one of its arms. The symbol is the same one that the others found on the scrap of paper on Gregory's desk.
The stairs beckon...
"We should go to see if anyone is still alive." Imedren says in a slight daze. Now that he's sure they've all seen more than their fair share of death... he was more than ready to get some good news.
He headed toward the stairs.
The stairs descend to a large chamber that holds seven dismembered corpses--the missing residents of Grievings. An iron vault stands in the center of the room, its door open.
Father Gregory lies unconscious in the corner. The priest is missing an arm, a leg, and one eye, with all the injuries crudely stitched up. He’s unconscious but alive...barely...
Anophth rushes past the body, completely unfazed by it - his mind must he going numb - and rushes to the priest.
Father Gregory? he says, gently touching the priest. Father Gregory?
Guys! I found him! Help me get him out of here. There's an infirmary across town we can take him to.
Anophth sits down next to the priest, his legs straight out in front of him. He places one hand on the priests back, gently rubbing it like he would when conforting a child. While sitting next to the priest, Anophth takes a look around to see if there's anyone else alive.
He calls out, Is anyone else down here?
Nobody responds to Anophth's call.
Inside the vault in this room is a sarcophagus, the inside of its lid covered in scratch marks. A dusty podium in the vault features a single clean section suggesting it once held a book. Inside the sarcophagus are a mundane sword made of green metal, black robes covered in diabolic symbols, a sacrificial knife, a graven skull, and numerous stained bottles.
Imedren bounded across the room to his friend, ignoring everything else in the room. He gritted his teeth in worry.
"Aah, this is horrible. It's going to be a lot more difficult to move him safely in this condition. I wish we had saved that potion now."
I've got one more. But I wanted to wait until we were outside to give it to him. I'm afraid that if he wakes up down here, he'll break.
Imedren nodded. "Right, that's probably a better idea. Let me find something to help carry him out of here."
He then looked around for a moment. Spotting the old robes in the sarcophagus.
"These will do." he said grabbing them. "I'll get his upper body, you grab his legs... leg and help carry him out."
Working together, Anophth and Imedren are able to carry Gregory up the stairs and out of the forsaken Moore House. About the same time they get clear of the building, Nutmeg arrives with Sergeant Alyse. There's another young girl with them as well, who Tabog recognizes as his son's friend, Joy.
Alyse gasps in horror as she sees Gregory's mutilated form. "By the Gods! What happened here?!?"
Sergeant! We need help! We need to get him to the infirmary! Anophth says, grunting with the exertion.
After getting Father Gregory out, he tries to explain.
Some sort of living corpse was in there, using body parts to keep it alive. All the rest of the missing people are dead. The Rude Boys gang were guarding the house, letting the creature continue to capture and kill. We found the coffin it was in; must have been there since that demonologist lived here. It looks like it broke out from the inside.
Dramm allows Anophth and Imedren to rush past him. He holds his breath as he inspects the podium, trying to mitigate the smell. After a quick once over, he collects the items from the coffin carefully, storing them in his pouch. He grimaces as he sees the dark symbols that cover the robe, quickly stuffing them into his bag. Lastly, he grabs the strange sword, leaving it sheathed, and makes his way back up the stairs.
Dramm's face is flat as he leaves the Moore House. His eyes move back and forth as he approaches Alyse, taking in the two younger children flanking her. He stops in front of her, realizing he is covered in viscera from both the fight and his investigation.
"Street." He says flatly to the younger two, then turns to Alyse as Anophth is hurriedly telling their terrifying tale. "House is tainted. Should burn it, Brown Cloak. Don't know if that thing is really dead."
A teenage girl walks the streets, having worked at her assigned vegetable patch. Her clothes are practical, if handed down many times and patched more. Hobnail boots a size tio large require thick socks to even wear. Her chestnut-brown hair is cut to just above her shoulders. Brown, curious eyes are set in a pale, slightly grimy face. She might be a little pretty if scrubbed. And if one got past her great shyness.
She turns a corner - and sees three people she knows, one terribly injured. She stops dead in her tracks.
"Fa-ther Gregory!?", she sputters. "Nutmeg? Mister Tabog? What - what happened to Father Gregory?"
She starts shakily approaching the bizarre scene and odd people, gathering what little courage she can. Father Gregory was always good to her, giving advice when she felt lonely. And Nutmeg is a nice boy, a friend she's met to and from work. Mister Tabog seems nice enough too, if a bit strained...
As she approaches, an odd earthy scent is obvious. The earth under her fingernails and dotted everywhere else on her suggests a reason. Maybe even the real reason.
"Will he be alright?", the girl asks, a lump in her throat.
"It's as Anophth says. Father Gregory was the only survivor inside, such as it is. The two Rude Boys who were left guarding this place are over there, tied up. Congratulations, sergeant. You've solved the case no one else wanted to solve." he gestured. "We'll tell you more after we get Gregory somewhere where he can be treated."
He glanced over to the girl who'd arrived with Sergeant Alyse and Nutmeg.
"He'll never be whole again, but he's out of that accursed building now and alive. We should hurry!"
Alyse helps you bring Father Gregory to the infirmary. As the healers scramble to tend to the priest, she returns to the Moore House to take the Rude Boys into custody.
After several minutes, the lead medic comes to talk to you, his expression grim. "We were able to deal with the infections that had begun to fester in his wounds. The good news is he will live. The bad news... Well, he has experienced horrific trauma that no man should ever have to suffer. I fear that his mind is completely gone. The only thing we can do for him now is to make him comfortable while he lives out the remainder of his days in an asylum."
When Alyse returns, she gives you all a grateful nod. "I wish things would have turned out differently, but I am glad that that monster won't be able to hurt anybody else. Thank you for your efforts, friends. I will tell my superiors what you did today. I am sure they will be able to arrange some sort of reward for you."
As the lead medic starts to turn away, Dramm's hand shoots out and catches the man's shoulder. Dramm's knuckles are white.
"There has to be something left. Can you make him lucid? Even for a short time? Does he remember anything? Know anything? Could he remember something? Decipher something? Dramm's voice rises to an uncharacteristic fever pitch, his fingers are tight enough to bruise. "He can't be completely gone. I need him awake! I don't care what it takes!"
The medic raises his hands defensively. "I'm sorry. I wish there was something--anything--that I could do. It's a miracle Father Gregory's alive at all."
Dramm lets go of the man, staring in disbelief. He turns abruptly and walks out of the infirmary. A few seconds later there is a clatter and a furious howl of rage from outside as Dramm slams down his pack.
"I was so close!" His shout is loud enough to turn heads, but he doesn't seem to care. He kicks the pack viciously in his fit of anger.
"So. F*+#ing. CLOSE!" Each word punctuated by another swift kick. Finally, Dramm collapses sullenly against the wall, his outburst over as quickly as it began. His head sinks into his hands.
Imedren paled visibly as he heard that Father Gregory, his mentor and someone who had helped him become the man he was today, was essentially gone.
That thing inside the Moore house. If only we had stopped it sooner. Them... It's their fault.
When Dramm had his outburst it pulled Imedrn back into the world.
He stared at the man who had been, until that moment, a seemingly calm and collected individual. Now he wasn't sure what he thought.
"Dramm, what... what do you mean close?" he asked the man hesitantly after he'd given the man a few moments to calm down.
He thought about everything they had seen thus far and knew. He was angry and when Sergeant Alyse returned, he thought he had a theory.
"Sergeant, there's a lot to consider but the pieces fit together here. That monster was hidden in the Moore house, buried in a sarcophagus with all manner of scratch marks on the inside. There are signs that someone released it from its imprisonment, there was a pedestal where a book was until recently but it was nowhere to be seen. The monster was using its victims to uh... replace old or bad body parts with new ones. When we were looking into it we found out that the Rude Boys had been hired by a pair of well dressed men in the Fallen Soldier tavern to guard the house.
Father Gregory went missing some days after the initial rumors came about. The strange thing is that we know he'd been preparing to investigate these rumors himself. But when we checked his home, we found his gear ready but unused. But we did find that drawing of a strange symbol I showed you before. We found it again, here in the house. I suspect he may have been called on by those men and attacked after. But now we'll never be able to ask him.
We need to learn as much as we can about those men as we can. Keep us in the loop, alright? I don't think this... situation isn't over yet."
Dramm looks up from his hands at Imedren's concerned face.
"Close to translating the words." Dramm says, his voice still burning with frustration. He reaches into his pack and pulls out a worn book bound in animal hide.
"They're my brother's writings. Magic. I can read, but they're not in common. Father Gregory was supposed to meet with me because he's formally educated. I'm not. He could have helped me decipher the words. I've been working for three years to finally understand this manuscript." Dramm snaps the book closed irritably.
"Now the Father is dead before I could even speak to him! Dead because some stupid bastard played with..."
He stops as if realizing something. He thrusts the book roughly back into the pack and stands up. His face has suddenly become grimly determined.
"Later. There's a better time for this later, after you've all figured out that you want to punish the people who did this. I want to know why you all wanted to save Gregory. I'll tell you my reason too. Then we'll find those noblemen and you can exact proper justice, and I'll get what I want too. Sorry for the outburst." He nods to Imedren, indicating his newfound composure. He follows Imedren back to Alyse quietly.
The last few hours have had a horrible quality, like a vivid nightmare.
Only this is true.
Joy is quiet, nigh silent, as she follows Father Gregory and the people who helped him. She ran with them to the infirmary. She waited, listened to the man shout, to the others talk about what they saw and heard and still fear. Comfort Nutmeg, though that's nearly as much about comforting herself too.
And now, she can stay silent no longer.
"I...i have to help. That monster sounded like a nightmare, but people helped it? They'll come for everyone else!"
Anophth watched Dramm's tantrum in disbelief. What is wrong with that guy? he thinks to himself.
There's gotta be something. A good man like that doesn't deserve to such a thing to happen to him. I'll find it. I'll find a way.
Tabog takes it upon himself, after the investigations to console the children and explain the what went on and why, to the best of his abilities.
"This is a hard thing for me to say and it might make you feel a little helpless but... When we went into the house we found....................And when we went into the basement we found Father Gregory, among other oddities. He had been hurt by this creature, demon you could even say. This is why it's so important for you to stay safe and always help each other out. There are bad people out there children and its the actions of good people that keep the demons at bay. I'm sorry you were a witness to such evil but we'll make it past this, you two are some of the strongest kids I know. Stay strong now, I need to help the others."
Tabog embraced the two kids at once and looked at them to make sure they truly understood and were grounded in their thoughts. He arrived as Dramm began his shouting and approached at the same time Imedren did, just as confused as he.
After things had calmed down a little he tapped Imedren for a quick sidebar:
"I'm not sure what you all are going to do but I'd like to bring these people down as well, if anything at least for Father Gregory. I'm just not sure what I'm to do about Nutmeg, I was reliant on the Father to watch him as I worked and so forth. He's certainly an asset but I can't see putting him in harms way. Anyway, just a thought, I'm going to see about getting my own wounds mended as it is. We did a good thing today, we'd all be well to remember that."
"Quite, although I'll pass on touching myself with rusty, dirty medical tools... Thanks..." He pockets the set and continues on.
"We need to learn as much as we can about those men as we can. Keep us in the loop, alright? I don't think this... situation isn't over yet."
Sergeant Alyse nods. "Of course. You've proven yourselves competent and resourceful. The Brown Cloaks will be grateful to count you among their allies."
Uruuna takes Imedren by the hand. "Buy me a drink? It's been a rough day. Let's try to get our minds off of things, at least for a little while."
Nutmeg sniffles when Tabog explains exactly what happened, though her maintains a brave facade. He reaches over to squeeze Joy's hand, the two children comforting each other.
"I...i have to help. That monster sounded like a nightmare, but people helped it? They'll come for everyone else!"
"You should stay with us. My dad will protect you. He always keeps me safe."
The medics patch up those who are injured, and you head back to your homes to rest and recover from the day's grueling ordeals. The next day, you receive a summons to Crossings' city hall in the Gavel district. Southwest of Coins, the city's political district consists of just a few buildings cordoned off by an old wall. The streets are crowded with couriers, lawyers, petitioners, and criminals.
Once inside, you are lead to a meeting room where the city's mayor waits for you. Katrin Edgerton is a portly, middle-aged woman who wears comfortable clothing and keeps her graying hair tied up in a bun.
"Greetings to you all. The Brown Cloaks have informed me of your actions in the Moore House last night. I wanted to personally thank you for solving the mystery of the disappearances in Grievings and slaying the monster that was perpetrating them. You deserve to be rewarded for your valiant efforts."
She gestures, and a page steps forward with a bag of coins. He counts out one silver shilling for each of you.
"I am gravely concerned by the strange symbols you discovered. Of late, there have been rumors swirling about regarding a strange cult operating in the shadows of Crossings. The council has been discussing finding a group of troubleshooters to try to root it out. I think you all would be the perfect men and women for the job, should you be willing to accept."
Perhaps a few too many drinks were had the previous night. Imedren closed his eyes for a moment and just listened to their mayor talk while holding his head.
"If that's what you're looking for, then I think you've found a solid group for your proposal. That house and what happened there have opened up our perception to things that no one should be subject to. We all lost a friend and we'd like to make sure that doesn't happen again." he opened his bleary eyes and took the coin from the page. He looked down at it before pocketing it and then met Katrin's eyes.
"But what sort of support can we be expecting from the council? Something tells me we won't be getting badges or titles to use by doing this."
"You won't be officially deputized, no, but as you continue to perform good works, your reputation and standing in the city will no doubt rise. Several of the other council members have reached out to me with offers of patronage. Depending on who you decide to go with, you'll have access to boons that can help you in your investigations. And of course, you'll continue to receive payment for jobs well done."
Being among wealthy lawyers and well dressed peoples Tabog regains some of his well learned "posh" demeanor and begins to step forward as a curator for the group. He made sure to dress to the "T" with his performance clothes, still common garb but well kept and clean.
"I know I can at least say this for myself and likely my colleges, we appreciate your praise and thank you for your generous reward. I do, however, have the unseemly task of voicing our concern with the policies that have perpetuated this course of events. If sufficiently manned, as is precedent for missing persons, this mission would have not seen so many perished and injured. All leading to, might I add, the mental demise of the most trusted and well known man of your so called "slums". The effects of such may not be apparent as of yet, but I assure you that you will see a downward mark in the well being of your people in our home district. Not to mention that the monstrosity encountered was something that is not of this world. Weather you believe this or not, if it weren't for our eclectic group of civilians' search for the aforementioned Father Gregory, you may have just had a force, curated by decades if not centuries, of evil devil magic unleashed upon your city. I may query, would it not benefit the court to provide sufficient accommodations if you wish us, a band of penurious yet steadfast civilians, to assume the position to spearhead your endeavor? Thank you for your time, your Honor."
Standing tall with his hands clasped together behind his back, Tchernobog Watvans gave his speech. He gives a slight nod and a bow as he finishes and steps back in line with the rest. He never breaks eye contact with the mayor and shows little emotion in his face, save for respect as he's learned to give his equals.
Dramm looks uncomfortable. His eyes are darting and his round face is scrunched. He watches the otherworldly creatures of wealth and prominence gracefully navigate the room. His mouth is locked into a distrustful grimace.
Lady Edgarton's praise and flattery don't seem to interest Dramm. Indeed, he holds a certain contempt for the man who carefully counts a single coin for each person. He glares at the man like he would a leech to be pulled from a leg. It does not prevent him from taking the coin.
Imedren's heartfelt eagerness is optimistic, but TaBog's daring speech causes Dramm to focus acutely on the Mayor. It's unclear if he's expecting civility or punishment. He waits in vigilant silence.
Mayor Edgerton seems bemused by Tabog's eloquent dialogue. "Indeed, good sir. I understand all too well the plight suffered by those less fortunate in the city. I have done what I can to provide aid to the poor, but I am but one voice on the council, and my political opponents have proven obstinate. Perhaps with somebody as well-spoken as yourself on my side, we can help convince them to budge.
"In the meantime, should you choose to accept my own patronage, I would be happy to pay your accommodations in one of the city's inns for the duration of your service. But you may wish to hear the other council members' offer before you decide."