Sophiel tries to swim down into the water and heal Annalla.
She reaches the android, and holding her breath and with a gesture, uses her wand.
Hoping her ally is stabilized, she swims back up and emerges, dripping, shaking off her wings as she moves to the bank and waits for Annalla to be retrieved.
Chrysa swims down to help pulls up the lady with everything she has.
The pale woman opens her eyes as she's laid down on the ground. "Isabella?" she asks as her eyes seek out her love. "Are you ok?"
Sophiel quietly heals Annalla, and then flies back to the southern side of the river drying herself off with a cantrip.
Chrysa rechecks the nearest house, making doubly sure there are no Anythings in the place and then ushers Bella and Anna (probably being carried by Bella) in there, then leaves them alone. She'll slide down with her back to the door to rest in place.
Vincent meanwhile, attempting to dispel the feeling of being useless, proceeds to investigate the rest of the village - floating from house to house like vapor on the wind.
After brining Anna to somewhere safe, she lies her down to check her out.
Isabella is in tears by the time Anna gets back to a place where she can lay her down. She squeezes her tightly and says "Am I okay?! I am fine! Are you okay! You can't go scaring me like that!"
She squeezes her wife again, not wanting to ever let her go.
Eventually after her emotions have run their course and she makes sure Anna has been tended to, she rises and checks with the others to determine if they are all ready to continue on.
The door of the cottage the couple are in opens to spill a little horned woman on the floor. Chrysa had been sitting, leaning against it, and hadn't expected it to move. (some sentry) Her dark eyes blink up at Bella, "Is Anna okay?" she asks to cover her own embarrassment.
Sophiel is splayed out on the floor, resting on a tidy bedroll, taking her short rest that she gets every night.
"She's fine. She'll be fine. Thank you for helping. I thought we were going to lose her there!"
Annalla returns the embrace just as tightly. "I was scared too," she whispers back. "I didn't want to leave."
Once the embrace is broken - not before a few impassioned kisses - the android sets about repairing herself with magic.
"I am well," Annalla responds to Chrysa's abrupt entrance. She's partially thankful for it, not knowing how much further she would have given in to the emotion she assumes is passion.
"Good." Chrysa answers with a bit of irritation at herself seeping in. She stands, brushing herself off. "It is still dark, but we should give Sophie a little longer to sleep, she needs it, so go back to sleep for a bit, and we'll continue our search when the sun comes up."
"Dangerous place. Best to rest, warmbloods been gone for weeks."
Just on the far side of the river crossing, Vincent spots a pit. It is lined it with sharpened stakes, and crudely camouflaged with a cover of sticks and dirt. This was not here when you previously visited.
The remaining houses along the shore appear to be more homes for small families.
A small church stands here, its whitewashed walls and stained- glass windows gleaming in the sun. The bow symbol of Erastil shines like a beacon above the doors. Behind it on one side sits a neatly kept parsonage, and on the other a low hill holds the beginnings of a small cemetery. The interior is simply furnished with wooden pews and a humble altar. It has been thoroughly looted.
Everyone except for Isabella notices a small notch that seems out of place on the altar. Investigating reveals a hidden drawer in the altar that contains several scrolls the priest had stashed in case of emergencies: three scrolls of cure serious wounds, three scrolls of remove paralysis, a scroll of restoration, a scroll of break enchantment, a scroll of breath of life, and a scroll of raise dead.
Sophiel emerges from sleeping, with a slightly odd gait. She imperiously looks over the others in the party after they had rested, to varying degrees scoffing and smirking at times, as she shakes her head. At some point, when addressed, she rolls her eyes, but says nothing.
Sophiel grabs all of those immediately, and puts the scroll of "breath of life" into her wrist sheath, along with the wand of cure light that she has. Everything goes into the sack immediately.
When the church of Erastil is looted, she notes idly. "Of course, it makes perfect sense that an a!!!!@% like Varn would leave a church of Erastil unprotected. What's wrong with the people of Varnhold? Have they no respect for the gods?" She looks mad at such a desecration, though seemingly doesn't see the contradiction between their own looting and the looting that was already done.
After grabbing everything, she pushes past the others to leave, not waiting for them to get out of her way. She waits outside, humming an off-key tune to herself quietly as she waits for everyone else to finish in the church. She seems annoyed, and at one point pokes her head into the door saying, "what are we waiting for, another monster to grab Annalla? Chop chop, we're burning daylight." Her voice has a contemptuous sneer to it.
"Soph and I will scout a little ahead, the rest of you follow... a little way back." Chrysa looks concerned as she goes to the door "If that is alright with you Lady Medvyed?" said with sympathy.
Sophie catches herself as she's reminded of something, "f&#!, I'm sorry..." she looks sorry, "this... this... " She nods at Chrysa, "just... hit me or something, if keep this up." She blinks a few times, and bites her lip, nodding at Chrysa, "yeah okay, let's go scout ahead while... " she grits her teeth and seems to be trying to watch what she says, and she mutters quietly to herself, "just shut UP you miserable idiot!"
Chrysa slides her arm through the other woman's "You know, I might hate the reason why you are this way, I do find it kind of cute. You all frazzled, not the perfect whatever you want to be at the moment, Adorable truly." her smile is warm and amused.
Sootscale quietly observes the area around the church, looking for any tracks that might exist.
When Chrysa speaks of scouting ahead, Sootscale pipes up. "King Sootscale scout with you two!" he insists.
The Waterhorse, a two-story inn, stands just off the village commons. A sign above the door depicts a rider clinging to the back of a madly galloping horse with a green mane and a fish’s tail extending from its hindquarters. The inn’s walls are painted a cheerful shade of yellow to complement the red shutters.
The first thing group notices upon approaching the front door of the inn is a single word hastily scratched into the wood of the front door in Common—“NOMEN.”
Vincent spends some time trying to understand what curse Sophiel is under but, failing, gives up and chalks it up to 'mysteries he does not yet understand'. There has been an alarming number of those recently.
"No Men? Is that what it is saying? Gender or a generic for humanity?" Chrysa wonders aloud. She thinks about words and what it might be a part of.
Leaving Soph in Sootscale's expert care, Chrysa goes to the others "NOMEN is carved on the door, either referring to the Nomen Centaurs or just The Normen Heights, this area from here to the Tors of Levenies." she tells them even though she is pretty sure most of them know this already. "Though with the centaur hides from earlier, it seems to be leading rather neatly in a direction."
She does not look convinced, before she heads back to the scouts, and investigates further.
"Centaurs could not do this." Vincent points out. "There are no tracks, and they cannot make creatures disappear into thin air. There would be blood, or other signs of violence."
"No, but they certainly could have commissioned someone or something to do so," Annalla adds. "Although that's not really their style."
Sootscale looks warily on what had, not that long ago, been a place for merriment and celebration. "No matter, we go see what inside," says the kobold.
"Is there any magic or trap that prevents us from going in?" Isabella sks. Assuming the party clears that, she will lead the way forward.
Annalla closes her eyes for a moment to check for magical auras.
"Allow me."
Vincent disappears into vapor once more and floats his way under the door, concentrating on the same spell as Analla as he goes.
"There is a creature in there." Vincent reports as he re-emerges. "It is held in a field of some kind and should be dead I think. The back of its head has been crushed. Otherwise there is nothing of significance so I believe you will be safe to enter."
He leads the way, on the grounds that, being what he is, he is less liable to traps and surprises than most others.
"This is too strange" if it wasn't for her missing diplomat, she might suggest burning the town down and being done with it. But instead she nods to Vincent's suggestion and follows him in with swords drawn.
Isabella shifts her blade into her hand and walks directly behind Vincent and says "If there is trouble, get behind me."
"You do realise that there are only two things on this earth that can kill me and one of them is highly unlikely to be inside a public house?" Vincent replies with a smile. "I appreciate the concern however, Aunty Izzy."
"Wait, two things? One is sunlight, what is other?" asks the kobold. He follows, having no desire to stand anywhere in the front.
Perhaps the most unusual feature of the Waterhorse common room is its sole, doomed occupant—a giant-sized humanoid with grey skin and long pointed ears—that stands, silent and perfectly still, facing a paper-strewn table in the corner of the common room, one hand clutching a book. The back of it’s skull is a shattered mess of blood and bone, though his face betrays no notice of this mortal wound. A shimmering nimbus of amber surrounds the spriggan’s unmoving form.
"I'd tell you King Sootscale, but then I'd have to kill you." Vincent replies with an eerily bright smile.
"You are being a bit too optimistic about your own invulnerability, Vincent." Chrysa says flatly, remembering his father's death clearly. But the statement is offhand, more of a way to distract herself from the eerie danger all over this place.
At the grey thing...
"What in the..." Chrysa is a bit on the dark on this one.
Sophiel has been silent for some time, having frowned at Vincent when he usurped their scouting duties. She folds her arms and rolls her eyes as she follows the others in, floating quietly. ”Haven’t you guessed Sootscale? The water. That’s why he did little to aid Annalla. Not that he could do much.” She stares at Annalla and Isabella, and then rolls her eyes, ”whatever.” She looks at the paperwork, and then points at it, ”you sure about that, Maridos? Whatever they were looking at is definitely of interest.” She gathers up the paperwork. ”Weird shit here, amber around a spriggan.” Once gathered, she pores over it, ignoring the others. If anyone tries to interrupt her, she glares at them angrily, muttering ”shove off, piker” in a manner that’s slightly distracted.
After a few minutes she stretches, rubbing the back of her neck, "Pendrod was researching the history of the centaur in this area - I can't imagine he would agree with their slaughter - that name - Nomen" She points at the book, "the Nomen were offshoots of the Rashalka - or he thinks they were. A piece of the puzzle to help the timeline of the clans was this jade bracelet that Willas found on the banks of the river." She looks around, "but the bracelet is missing."
She frowns, "very interesting actually." She then begins reciting the details that she found that Pendrod had used to draw his conclusions. Not surprisingly, it isn't very interesting, and actually, is rather annoying.
Vincent, whose intellect outstrips Sophie's by some distance, although wild horses couldn't convince either of them to admit it pays attention and does seem to find a certain amount of it interesting - although he is sensible enough to stay quiet about it. Aunt Sophie clearly wants to lecture right now...
The side of Chrysa's mouth twich upward for a second.
Chrysa listens to Soph's erratic jumps all over in information "Penrod is... he was one of the people here, wasn't he? Willas is... and there is a bracelet we need to find?"
"What about him though?" she gestures to the gray man, looking at Soph, Vincent, and Anna...
Sophiel interrupts herself, shaking her head, "I don't know - Penrod was a Maestro or something. I don't recognize the name here." She points at references to the writer. Sophiel waves vaguely towards the thing. "An embiggened spriggan. Or what's left of it. Spriggans were not residents of Varnhold last time we were here, so, something else odd happened." She gathers up the books and offloads them to anyone else who might want to read the anthropology.
Chrysa nods and accepts the paperwork, looking through it as well.
"Fey involvement." Vincent says with a sigh. "It would make sense, there aren't many powers that could empty a village like this and a powerful fey would be one of them."
She shakes her head, "maybe - or they could have tried to loot the place afterwards. As far as I know, Spriggan can't do more than minor magics." She gestures broadly, "for all we know, powerful undead are responsible, like a lich. Or just a wizard - though the magic that could vanish this many people at once would be powerful indeed."
She remembers quietly, "it would have to be at least as powerful as what shunted Maridos the Elder and the will-o-wisps to the first world. An artifact, perhaps?"
A search of the inn's guest rooms reveals that only one of them was inhabited at the time of whatever happened here. An investigation of the personal effects that remain indicate the occupant was Ervil Pendrod. Among the more mundane possessions in his travel trunk is a small library of further reference works. These tomes seem to be of less immediate relevance to his current work.
However, Chrysa locates a centuries-old geography book created by one Carmyn e'Brothasa, chronicler of Taldor's Third Army of Exploration into the north. One passage is marked by Maestro Pendrod and reproduced nearby. Pendrod's own handwriting in the margin of the text contains a simple but strange note: "Vordakai--perhaps a Nomen centaur god?"
The book, frustratingly, does not provide a location to the semi-mythical island mentioned in the text, nor does it provide any further clues to Pendrod's cryptic margin note.
The inn's till holds 37 gp, 52 sp, and 114 cp. Vincent also locates Maestro Pendrod's masterwork viola, recognizable as the work of the master craftsman Azores of Wispil.
This cottage has cheerful curtains in the windows. A number of wooden children's toys lie abandoned in the front yard. This was the home of the town's weaver, his wife, and their four children ranging from 2 to 15 years of age. The cramped house is occupied by his loom as well as large reels of thread.
You all notice a half-starved calico cat hiding beneath the loom and watching the party warily. You recall previously the cat was quite friendly, quite contrary to it's current demeanor.
Chrysa kneels down, pulling a big of dried meat from her pouch and tosses it to the cat, then says
IN CAT(using her hex feral speech): <Can you tell us what happened?>
Sophiel notes the till, and the viola. "Hold on -" She rummages in her pack for a notebook. "Okay - I think it's good if we put a mind to where we found all these things. If we can find their owners, it wouldn't be right to steal them. Then again, if some marauding bandit comes by, it wouldn't be good if it fell in their hands either. Does anyone disagree?" She puts one hand on her hips and stares at the others.