Two days ago….
Ugh. I am so glad to be off shift, the disheveled bar maid said. Her hair, once brushed and braided, is now undone and half soaked with beer. Her skirt has more than one dirty handprint on the back.
Those guys were a@~@~~!s! Oh, it wasn't anything ol Harold couldn't handle, they just got too drunk and picked a fight with Aaron and the boys. Dade's wife is going to be pissed. Amber just stood there, frozen as a peach, til Miss Blanche nearly smacked the sin outs her. Told her to get her lily white ass out to get the Constable. And you know Miss Blanche - when she speaks, ain't no one gunna question her.
-------------------
Tonight….
It's hot. Unseasonably hot. It's been hot all week. The sweat pours down the foreheads of all those with sweat glands. To make it worse, there's no breeze to wick that sweat off the forehead. The only one who seems like they're unaffected is Hydrand, that clockwork with the copper sheen who showed up the other week and built that oddly bleak monument on the edge of the village.
Speaking of Hydrand, there he (she? it?) is now. Walking right by the temple. Seeing the temple makes you think of Father Solomon. Now he's a right old kook. Well, that ain't fair. He means well. He's a good enough guy, as far as priests of the New God go. Hell, few years back when Alric's two younger sisters nearly destroyed the entire church, he was one of the few that came to their defense. Sure, everyone else in town blamed the girls for the Beastmen attack the next day, but ol' Father Solomon insisted it was just a coincidence. Didn't matter. The girls are pariahs now, even though it's been almost three years. It only rubs off on Alric just a little. Just enough to not give him that break he needs to get out. His saving grace was that he got the apprenticeship in Dade's smith before it happened. As ol' Dade has mentioned more than once, he never would've taken the boy on if he knew about that family beforehand.
It's late evening, and Andras just got finished with the last of his work for the day. His ink-stained fingers leave black smudge marks on his forehead as he wipes the sweat away. Fortunately the sweat-dampened handkerchief wipes the ink away just as soon as it's applied.
Alric, used to the heat of the forge, isn't nearly as bothered by it, but at least he's still sweating even if he doesn't show it. Not like that six fingered jerk Awful, who doesn't seem bothered by it at all.
Andras is an overly serious youth, with dark blonde hair and a somewhat stern face. You can see the hallmarks of his good breeding - a strong noble nose and cheekbones - and he'd be fairly handsome if he wasn't scowling all the time.
I swear to Astrid, if Hartwig makes me copy another of those damned pre-imperial books I will fling it into the fire. At this point, I'd even be happy with a thrilling genealogy. I thought when he gifted me that set of brushes to mark the end of my apprenticeship, it was meant to get easier.
He sighs, and bites into his bread and hard cheese. The allowance his family has been providing him isn't as high as it used to be, but he's learned to appreciate the peasant fare.
His fingers ache from the scribing, and he's feeling antsy that he hasn't been able to train with his staff today. He longs for his half-remembered childhood at the estate. What he wouldn't do to dip in the fountain, or lie on a cool slab of marble in this damned heat. Thinking of his childhood also brings up thoughts of days spent playing with his sister Isabella, now a persona non grata. He wonders when he'll be able to go home, and if she'll ever be accepted back.
At least the fight the other day was a welcome distraction from the monotony of village life...
"Meaningless, meaningless! Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless."
What a dim view of things. Even I know not everything is meaningless. Why does this phrase stick in my head? Did I... read it in a book somewhere?
All this wandering about had Hydrand waxing philosophical. Where had he heard that phrase? From a previous life, certainly. Whether it was the life he was living just weeks ago, or some forgotten existence from eons past, he wasn't sure.
Finding some small satisfaction in the construction of a plinth that evoked his sense of meaning, or lack thereof, it helped him heal from the traumatic changes his life had undergone in recent weeks. He was ready to put his chin up and move forward, but... to what? He hoped this search for meaning, for what was next, really was just a temporary low and not an existential well he would sink into for whatever time remained to him.
Time to focus on the now.
As he wandered, he took whatever a deep breath was for this forged form and looked on the world with renewed vigor.
Here's to hoping whatever's "next" doesn't put me in a bar fight.
Unlike the sour-faced boy on the other side of the room, Awful was grinning from ear to ear. He always seemed to be grinning, even more so when someone is having a bad day, and Andras always seemed to be having a bad day.
"Something on your mind, m'lord?"
He asks, breaking the silence they had been sitting in for nearly 30 minutes. By habit, sarcasm dripped from his last word as he has always refused to seriously address Andras as his better.
He stands up from the wall he leaned on, his round head hunched slightly as he glanced to his left and right. If you took a quick look at Awful, you'd assume he was a normal human boy. Just short of average height, with a plain face and graceful walk. A second look tells you to be cautious of him, he's probably planning something nefarious and fidgets nervously. A hard look reveals his pointed ears hued slightly red with black towards the very tips and the extra digits on his hand and you could guess his feet too, given the oddly large shoes he wears.
"I bet you're thinkin'bout that fight, huh? Be pretty wild to get caught up in something like that!"
He thrusts his arm, shadowing how one might stab repeatedly with a sword before turning and thrusting once at Andras, a killing blow. Then gutteral sounds to emphasize the scribe's untimely death.
Andras grunts, a sound somewhere between annoyance and amusement.
"I bet we'd have made short work of those thugs, wouldn't have needed Harold at all. Drunk peasants have no style. Though it probably wouldn't have been taken well if you'd stabbed them."
Andras laughs sardonically.
"Anything's better than copying Volume III of Caudicius's eighty-four part treatise on the evolution of the road network throughout the empire. Didn't that bastard have anything better to do with his time?"
"Eh, I'll just tell'em it was self-defense. 'Mr. guard, sir, I don't know why he attacked me! I was just telling him how lucky he was his wife only sleeps with three other guys!'"
Awful does his best to make a confounded expression and a show of being in near tears. He doesn't last long and begin's to laugh at his own attempt at seriousness.
"And I'm sure that bastard had aaaaaaaaall the friends he could handle. Ha! Now let's get the hell outta here, I'm bored outta my wits."
Sweat dripped from Alric's nose before he wiped his face with his sleeve, staring out into the hot and hazy day. His time with Master Dade was done at last, the surly blacksmith was even more irritable than usual. Nothing today seemed to be made to his demands, even though he happily kept the nails and hinges Alric had worked on all day. It had to have been that fight a few nights ago, the one he got involved in and was still sporting a black eye from. Those traveler's must've been sommething special, Dade was built like a forge after working on one for so long.
There was not a even the hint of wind blowing through Last Hope to soothe his fevered flesh but the ambient heat felt cool compared to the heat of the forge. Wearing a simple grey tunic with short sleeves and dark pants, Alric stood at non-imposing four feet and just barely over four inches tall at that. He was heavier set than most boys his age, his time at the forge giving him a stocky, physical build that only seemed to grow in time. His dark hair, like that of freshly tilled fertile soil, was a mess upon his head and his face was cleanly shaved. The stains of soot and work were perpetually upon him; his hand dark and the grey tunic soaked in sweat and similar black stains.
The fight the other day was all that anyone could talk about, even though few people wanted to talk to Dade about it. The lip-lashing he had received from his wife was bad enough that few wanted to irk him any further. Alric, for his part, did not care at all. His father didn't get involved in it, the Constable took care of it, it should all be set and settled. All that mattered was keeping his nose to the grindstone and not being bothered.
As he approached the temple, he could feel his mood souring. That damn place. He didn't despise the Martyr or anything like that, he just wondered what his life would be like right now if things had just gone differently. He swallowed his anger and embarassment and committed himself to trying to do a better act each day. The priest could likely use some extra water and his waterskin was still quite full despite the heat. With a more purposeful movement in his steps, he made his way towards the temple proper.
Everyone is focused mostly on themselves as they walk by the Temple of the Holy Finger. Suddenly, the doors burst open. A young lad, perhaps in his mid terms, stumbles through the door. He is covered in blood and mud.
Eyes wide with terror, he looks about. He doesn't even seem to notice you, his unfocused eyes seem to look beyond you as if you weren't there.
With a start he bolts down the dirt road, running towards the nearest building. A small shack. Amber's shack. It's a small hovel made of mismatched wood and barely big enough for two cramped rooms inside - not that any of you have ever been inside before.
Alric was about to walk up the steps of the temple when the doors suddenly opened and a young boy, covered in mud and blood, comes running out of the temple. Alric freezes for a moment, unsure of what to say or do while the boy stares around in terror. In another moment, he bolts down the road towards one of the shacks belonging to the townspeople. His sudden movement stirs Alric out of his shock, his voice finally speaking out.
"What the hell is the matter with you!? Where are you going!?" Alric shouts as he makes his way towards Amber's home. He didn't ask the real question on his mind though. Why the hell was he covered in mud and blood. It seemed like there were others that were caught off-guard just as much as he was, his eyes focusing on the nearest adult. "Go and get the Constable! Quickly! Someone could be hurt!"
While others were certainly going to be focused on the bewildered boy, Alric would turn his attention to the temple proper. The father had tried to help him and his family as best he can and was a good man. There was times he wished he was an apprentice to him rather than the mean-hearted Dade. Swallowing his anxiety, he rushed into the temple as quickly as he could.
"Father? Father, are you there? Is everything okay?"
Andras looks initially a bit bewildered, but quickly springs into action. He chases after the youth, trying to catch up with him and grab him.
What's gotten into that kid? Something spooked him. Better try and find out what it is before rushing in to the temple headfirst.
He's wondering idly if he should go and get his staff, and is keeping one eye and ear out for Alric, in case he needs help.
*Clop Clop Clop Clop*
How can one Clockwork be so hard to track down?! I can't BELIEVE I forgot to get proof of completion. I sw- WHOA!
A slightly paunchy, curvaceous girl recoils away from a boy barreling towards her, almost falling over in the process. She turns to look towards the boy while muttering something under her breath and then adjusts her pack with a huff.
I gotta get out of this stupid place and get back to the search. Whenever I get to any place with this many people, I always get a reminder of just how safe they can be. There was that dangerous bar fight last night, and even the children are running around as if someone's after them. And who the HELL turned on the heat?!
She grabs the collar of her cloak and fans herself, irritated at...at herself, mostly. She lets go and turns back to start walking towards the direction she was originally heading.
THERE he is! Thank the Gods; I can get out of here now.
"Hydrand! Hey Hydrand! I need your signature!"
She starts running, surprisingly quickly, towards the Clockwork she had guided to this dangerous place weeks ago. Towards getting the hell out of here. Towards...freedom.
As the boy bursts out of the church, Alric runs inside to check on Father Solomon. Andras starts running after the boy. And then, just as oddly, a faun girl appears around a corner and runs towards the clockwork. Awful stands there staring at all of it.
The interior is filled with shadows cast by a few lit candles flickering from the floor around the altar.
A door in the back wall hangs open, leading to a short hall.
No one seems to be around.
What mud monster? Spit it out. Alric's gone inside already, I need to help him. If someone's dead or in danger in there, I'll have to make sure that Alric doesn't join them. Speak and save a life.
Ah, Hokey. Apologies, I'm happy to sign.
Hydrand, though distracted by the ruckus, prepares to acquiesce with Hokey's request.
That boy looked to be in a bad way, I hope he's not into anything he shouldn't be.
It's far too easy for me to believe fate has presented itself so plainly before me. But... This definitely beats any bar brawls.
Moving as if Hokey no longer exists, Hydrand approaches the entrance to the temple, but does not enter. Resolving himself to observe the events as they unfold without inserting himself into them, he watches and he waits.
When the boy busted out of the church, Awful nearly leapt out of his skin. Once Andras began running after the crazed boy, Awful rolled his eyes, hesitated, then started following Andras.
S#*~, s#&$, s&!#... Why would you follow someone covered in blood like that? Better yet, why the hell am I, following you! S#*@!
He left a 15ft. lead between them until they got to the house, where Awful kept look-out from the threshold.
Awful, I know we’ve had our differences but someone is in danger. Go and grab our weapons, I think we will need them. And don’t you dare m’lord me, this is no joke.
Andras yells out of the shack, seeing Awful follow him.
And be quick. I think there’s several people in danger, not just Alric.
I wish that boy weren’t so handy in a tight spot.
"Thanks, Hydrand. No apologies needed; I should've remembered."
Hokey looks over the signature and the rest of the document, scrutinizing it, as if she was reading it.
"It all looks good. It took awhile to track you down, which was pretty surprising since you've even have a monument to your name now."
Hokey puts away the now-signed piece of parchment away in an inside cloak pocket and readjusts her gear. She also hears what Hydrand mumbled, and says, "I don't blame you; people are always more danger than they're worth."
She looks up to say something to Hydrand, only to find he already moved to the threshold of the temple.
"I see your head's in the cloud, as always. Well, I paid for a room for tonight already, so I'll be in town for at least 1 more night. Let me know if you need a guide in that time."
Hokey turns around, but stops before she walks away and sighs.
"I guess I can do you and your companions a favor and go get the constable. If I can even find him."
The rolling of her eyes was almost visible and she trots off at a quick pace.
Alric stands at the threshold for a moment, looking around carefully in the room. Something had terrified the young boy, something scary enough to take all the words from him. The temple seemed empty, abandoned almost, and there wasn't anyone around at all. A door at the opposite side of the temple swung gently with leftover momentum, barely creaking at all.
He was just about to enter when Hydrand made his way up the staircase, the unknowable Clockwork standing at the threshold beside Alric. The young man looked over the Clockwork for a second before he began to make his way inside. There was no need to tell him to keep an eye out at all, the strange Clockwork seemed more in his head than in the world more often than not. He quietly made his way across the main hall of the temple, stopping only at the statue of Astrid.
He took a moment and prayed for safety from harm, even if he wasn't sure that such an entity could keep him safe. It was a habit to pray for guidance, for help, not an actual belief that help would come. With his rote action taken care of, he would quietly approach the door that led into the small hallway. Trying to be as quiet as he could be, he kept his ears and eyes out for anything waiting deep within.
Nervously looking around as Andras speaks at him, Awful only half listens to what his peer is saying.
"Yeah, yeah... umm. In the usual right? suresuresure!"
The nervous young man dashed away from his companion, back towards the build they just came from.
You don't have to ask me twice to separate myself from a freaky situation like that!
He slowly calms down as he distances himself from the commotion, slowing from a sprint to a hustle. He thinks about what could be happening and the way the boy mentioned a mud monster...
You peer into the Temple of the Holy Finger, watching the flickering lights bounce the shadows across the main chamber. Taking a cautious step in, the wood beneath you creaks and echoes in the chamber. You wince at the sound, but nothing reacts to it.
A few candles have been knocked over near, their lights out and spilled wax solidifying on the ground. From halfway into the worshipping chamber, you can see the open door on the other side. Through the open door to the hall, the door to the outside and the steel door to the vault both stand open. The bar that normally secures the door to the outside lays on the floor.
Those who have lived here know what lies beyond the vault doors - a sacred relic known as the Holy Finger of the Ascended. It's supposedly a finger bone of Astrid herself, the Martyr of the New God. It's said to have great healing powers, but no one has ever actually seen it. It's only a rumor - even if it is the namesake of this temple.
The boy, almost on the edge of hyperventilating, finally sees you as you start to question him. His breathing slows down and his panic abates.
I… I.. There was a monster in there! It.. it tried to kill me! He spits out the word between ragged breaths.
As he speaks, you can finally get a good look at him. Perhaps 15 at the most, he has a mop of blonde hair dirtied by the mud with piercing blue eyes. This is not a boy you recognize. He is not a local.
Awful heads off at a sprint, trying to get away from the rumored mud monster in the temple. It just so happens to give the illusion that he is obeying Andras' orders as well. As soon as he rounds a corner, he slows down to a jog. As he looks about for something useful, he nearly runs into a faun girl.
The same faun girl that was just hollering after that new clockwork that came to town.
The two of you bump into each other, knocking each other over.
Ah, good, this person appears to be on the case
Hydrand observes the moment of piety the young man commits, and watches him move ahead into the temple proper. He also observes the state of dishevelment that the temple appears to be in; he momentarily muses that old habits die hard before he begins to take in the scene.
A main chamber, what appears to be a secured room, and a door to the outside. The position of the door's bar suggests it was removed intentionally by someone on the inside, though whether that was before or after the action remains to be seen. The secured room's door is open, and remains so, implying that it was being accessed during the altercation or before, unless whoever won the struggle understands how to unlock it. Lastly, there are candles on the floor... I suppose it would behoove the world for me to do something about those before they become an issue.
Hydrand moves to right the candles so that the scene... er, so that the building is preserved from fire, studying the room as he moves through it.
So, a struggle took place exactly here...
He does his best to discern what occurred based on the lay of the candles as he carefully sets them right.
Hokey desperately scrambles away and starts to scream, "GE-," before she notices she recognizes the person in front of her seemed to be a companion of Hydrand.
He should keep better company!
Still visibly shaken, she tries to collect herself as she chastises the Awful, "Pay attention to your surroundings and, next time, stay out of the way."
She seems to almost recoil away as she gets up and quickly dusts off her clothes, warily watching the Awful the whole time. Then, she sets off for the nearest sheriff's office, at full speed.
What am I even doing right now? I should be leaving tonight! Why am I even helping anybody?!
Sweat stings in Alric's eyes, the oppressive heat not letting up even within the holy temple. The floors creaked with every step and he inwardly cringed, keeping his eyes focused on the hallway ahead. Getting close enough to peer in, his chest tightens as he notices that the vault was opened up and left open.
"The holy finger..." Alric murmurs, just loud enough for Hydrand to hear. Entering into the hallway, he continues to mind his step as he walks closer towards that open door. No one in town even know if the relic was even situated in here; it was always rumored and the priest never said whether it was or was not there. Fear clenched at his stomach and he let out a small breath, unsure what would be waiting inside for him. Once he reached the doorway to the vault though, he would quietly peek around the corner to see what he could see.
Yous scan the room and immediately start piecing together the evidence. The knocked over candles show a sign that someone was rushing away from the hall in the back of the temple through the large worshiping room out through the front doors. Muddy boot prints leading from the hall support this claim - they're space out, which means the owner was at a run. And they're on the smaller side, which look like they could be the size of that boy who came rushing out earlier.
Heading into the back hallway where Alric just walked into confirms the rest of the hypothesis. There was a fight here. Blood and mud are on the floor. More muddy and bloody footprints with blood droplets head down the hall towards the back door - a door which is still ajar. While the boy ran out the front, it's likely that whoever or whatever was on the other side of the fight went out the back door.
This time, the bar was on the floor in a puddle of mud. That boy must have been right about some sort of mud monster. Muddy footprints head out the back door to the cemetery in the back.
But your eyes are on the Vault. You cautiously make your way forward, slipping in a spot of red. You don't fall, but you do leave behind a smear of blood on the floor. You keep going to the edge of the steal vault door. You slowly push it open. It barely squeaks on the hinges as it opens.
There is a bare altar in the center of the room. On top of the altar is an ornate box - this must be the box where the Holy Finger is. But it's open; the red velvet fabric lining the interior is bare for all to see. There is no finger bone. It is empty.
On the floor next to the altar is a rolled up piece of paper with a red ribbon wrapped around it to keep it in a roll. It looks to be of high quality paper.
Ok. Calm down. Was anyone else there with you? Is there anything else you can remember about the monster or where it might have come from? And how come I’ve never seen you before - you’re not local are you?
Andras does his best to be firm but kind, in the manner that he would have been taught to deal with peasants in need.
Strange indeed, but these are strange times
He feels the thrill of adrenaline coursing through him. Sure, there’s a monster waiting for them, but he’s been looking for adventure for a while. But he’s still slightly afraid, he’s still only a boy on the cusp of adulthood, and despite his experience so far, he’s worried he’s not ready for this.
He looks away, up and to the corner of the ceiling. I'm being tormented, he says. Tormented by evil spirits
. He then looks down at his feet. I heard Father Solomon can cure people. So I went to see him. I hoped he could help me.
But then! he says, looking at you directly in the eyes, But then he just attacked me! He attacked me! For no reason! I.. I stabbed him with my knife, and that's when his face melted and he was a giant mud monster inside! I ran as fast as I could! And.. and you know the rest. Can you help me? Please?
Andras nods curtly.
I’ll try to help you.
Your knife wouldn’t happen to be iron? Steel?
Realising he’s not getting too much more out of the boy, he runs off to find his gear, and Awful.
I wonder where that ne’er do well went...
Just before he leaves, he tells the boy to leave Amber's house, as neither of them should really have been in there. He tells him to head to the tavern, as it's a nice public area and he should be safe there.
The vault is empty, quiet, only the altar within it and the small, ornate box upon it. There was no finger bone to gaze upon, no holy relic to imagine. There was a small piece of parchment upon the ground though, catching the young man's eye as he walked into the vault properly now to pick it up off the floor with a gentle grasp.
Once it was within his hand, he would make sure to check if there was anything solid within the rolled piece of parchment before turning to look at the clockwork.
"Hydrand, I found something." Alric said, lifting the piece of paper up. "C-can you read? I haven't learned how to yet." He mumbled, embarassed at his lack of education once more.
The constable's office is a small stone building with a sign out front that read's "fadsgyuhilb." Or something. You have no idea what it reads, as you can't read. But there is a symbol above the letters that identifies the building as the local law enforcement.
Iron bars cover the four windows and the strong iron-banded oak door has a stout lock on it. The door is not currently locked and it easily opens.
Come on it! says a man sitting behind a desk. His arm is in a sling. He's dressed in what you would think a constable would wear - loose pants and s$$+, a jacket, and a badge that matches the symbol on the sign outside. His wavy brown hair is streaked with grey. He has brown eyes and deep tan skin. He has a welcoming smile.
Well, what do we have here? says a gruff voice behind the constable. Your eyes wonder over to the iron cage behind him. Four brutish men sit back there behind the cage, each on one of four cots. A foul odor wafts from a single bucket in the back corner.
Dont you worry none about them, the constable says. Come on in and have a seat. Tell old Harold what he can do for you. He then turns back and gives a glare at the men in the cage - a look that says "shut the hell up or you'll regret it.[/b]
Hokey nervously sits down on the seat offered to her in front of Constable Harold.
"Good evening, Constable. Well, I'm here because there was a boy in front of the Temple...the one with Father Solomon...who shouted for someone to get the, um, you, over there."
"I'm sorry to say that I don't know much more than that. I was just coming up to them and I came over as fast as I could after hearing the boy shout like that. Oh, just before I saw the boy, and Hydrand, the Clockwork, in front of the church, there was also another boy who looked very scared and might've been chased. Now that I think about it, he was running from that general direction..."
Hokey starts picking up her pack, as if to leave.
"That's all I know about the situation. I'm staying at Last Hope tonight. Please let me know if you have any questions. "
She sits there expectantly, hoping to be released soon and be rid of this trouble.
Evenin', there miss... Hokey, was it? Sorry I aint been around to some say hi. I try to make it a habit to introduce myself to every person who comes to town, but it's been a busy month. Hydrand told me a bit about you. Said you helped him get here. Good things to say about you, he did.
Now, what is it that you've come to see me for?
He sits patiently listening to what you have to say, and as you express people calling for help, concern brushes his face.
Father Solomon? Is he ok? And Hydrand is there, you say. That's good. That machine will be of some help. Which boys did you see? What did they look like?
Jumping back to his feet, Awful sneers at the woman.
"Mind your damn business, lady, and take your own s#*~ty advice!"
His words trail off as he's already begun moving, and didn't look back to address the now dusty faun.
He makes his way back to his and Andras' things, finding the staff and grabbing anything else he might need, or want, and can carry easily.
The boy covered in mud and blood was not far behind Andras coming out of the home. Andras yelled at him to go to the tavern. The boy started running in that direction, but as soon as he was past a few homes he ducked around and corner and ran.
Despite not knowing how to read, any who open the scroll become filled with knowledge on their use - as if they want to he read and used.
These are incantations - spells in the written form that anyone can use. With a bit of focus [ooc](and an intellect challenge roll)]/ooc], you can cast the spell right from the paper.
One is a spell the the Thuergy tradition - such traditions became popular with the Cult of the New God. It can, when presented with a holy symbol of the New God, inspire fear in an opponent or even knock them flat on the ground. The other belongs to the Life tradition and can mend minor wounds.
You may also keep the papers for later study, which could grant access to these traditions if you were of the mind to study magic.
A shudder goes through Hydrand as pure understanding of the scroll funnels into his mind.
"Is this what reading is like? I almost dare to ask whether the temple will have continued need for these..."
Whatever it was, it was unlike anything he had experienced in the past.
The intrigue fades quickly, however, as he comes back to himself, there in the room with Alric. He shares what he's learned through careful investigation of the scene with the young man, although it certainly doesn't illuminate much more than could be assumed.
"What now? I've half a mind to see if there's a trail to whatever was on the other side of this scuffle, I'm sure the boy is already well in hand, running through the town like that..."
Hokey responds to the Constable's greetings with,"No problem at all, Constable. I try to stay out of the way, so I understand if you haven't had the time to make a house call with stuff like the bar fight happening all the time."
After detailing what she knew was going on, Hokey shifts the pack in her lap as she tries to think about the others she saw.
"I'm not sure what condition Father Solomon was in when I left because the boy who was calling for help had just walked in as I was leaving. The boy who called for help was a short human, I think he's Dade's apprentice...he seemed nice. And there was the absentminded Cambian, who I think is also Dade's apprentice. There was another human, too, but I don't recall much other than some blonde hair. Sorry."
She seems to try to think one last time before shrugging and adding, "Hydrand could be pretty helpful here, but you gotta watch out for his habit of chasing the butterflies in his head."
Confound that damned boy. Why would he run like that?
Hesistating for just the slightest moment as he weighs his options, Andras doubles back and runs after the boy, looking to grab him by the scruff of the neck and demand an explanation. Alric is no longer alone, and Awful is at least present - not that that means much for that scoundrel.
If his suspicions are correct, there’s very few people he can trust. Awful, Alric, that odd clockwork and maybe even that Faun are about the only people he would trust right now. He fiddles with the dagger on his belt, glad of the iron.
Something’s afoot, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.
She seems to try to think one last time before shrugging and adding, "Hydrand could be pretty helpful here, but you gotta watch out for his habit of chasing the butterflies in his head."
The Constable laughed at the last part. "You've got that right, miss. Seems to always be staring farway behind that mask of his." He pauses with some thought, "hmmm.. so, Dade's boy is out there. Short feller, right? That's Alric. And the two blonde boys, those gotta be Mr. Pott's boys, Andras and Awful.
"Tell you what. I'm stuck here, gotta watch over these guys. Hydrand said you were capable, and you've already got a good side to ya coming here to fetch me. Why don't you head over to the temple and connect with Hydrand. Two of you can check on ol Solomon. See if the Father can swing by here so I can get an account.
I can even spare some things to help you out, if you think you'll need it."
Hokey pauses, clearly surprised by the direction of the conversation. She thinks about it for a short breath of time before agreeing to help Constable Cray.
"Well, I don't have anything planned, anyway. Can you spare some first aid supplies and restraints? I've never been involved in something like this, so I'm not sure what I could need or should bring. Oh, some proof that I'm not a crazy lady acting on her own might help, too."
The constable responds, "Sure thing. Here, pin this red badge on your clothes, it'll serve well enough for folks to recognize that you're working for me tonight. I ain't got no more restraints, but I do got a healing nut you can have." He takes out what looks like an oversized blue acorn. "Drop it in any cup of liquid and it turns it into a healing potion.
"I've also got a lantern and a club, if'n you needs it. And I've got a couple copper as pay that you can pick up tomorrow morning for your efforts tonight.
"Once the sheriff gets in tomorrow to see these brigands taken to Count Berryessa's court up in Alfeihm, I'll be able to help out a bit more. Til then, I gotta stay here and keep an eye on them."
Hokey takes the pin and pins it on her cloak and puts the nut in her pouch. She then takes the lantern in hand with the club in the other and nods to the Constable.
"Okay, Constable. I'll take these back to the temple and check up on the boys for you. I'll let you know what happened as soon as I can. Anything weird going on town lately that I should keep in mind? Also, what's up with this heat? Is this normal for Last Hope??"
Upon requesting some tinder, the Constable also hands you a tinderbox and a flask of oil. "Nothing particular unusual. Beastmen out in the woods are always a problem. These ruffians here a few days ago. There's a fifth one out there, too. He ran off before I could get a chance to snag him. So be careful. As for the heat? Don't know. I ain't no weather mage. Ain't seen it like this before."
Hokey gratefully accepts the tinder and oil. "Thank you, Constable. I'll be sure to keep these safe." She puts the tinder and oil away. Upon hearing that one of the ruffians hasn't been caught, Hokey asks, "Could I get a description of the 5th troublemaker? I'll keep an eye out for him, as well."
"Yes'm. the constable says, Young lad. Maybe 15 or so. Dirty. On the skinny side. Mop of blonde hair. If you see him, try to get Hydrand to bring him here. Don't be getting yourself hurt, now. Kill my conscience if I was putting you in danger."
Andras decides to take chase after the boy, grabbing his staff from Awful as he takes off at a sprint!
When Alric looked over the paper, his eyes widened for a moment. Understanding flowed into his mind, the possibility of what could be with the power within his hands. It wanted to be used. That understanding, that single moment with knowledge pouring into the young man's mind, was shocking beyond all belief. When his senses seemed to return to him, he looked back down towards the paper again with a look of bewilderment, awe, and curiosity. These spells, so simple in the grand scheme of things, were the greatest thing that the simple blacksmith had seen before. They radiated power.
Alric liked how it felt.
Hydrand's voice shook Alric out of his mindset, his head nodding along as the clockwork spoke of what he saw here. Most of it seemed to make sense but the way that Hydrand presented it just sounded so much more correct. Pocketing the scroll for now, he looked towards the back door.
"Let's go. If Father Solomon is hurt, we need to help him. He's a good man." Alric says, looking around the rooms for a moment for a lit torch to take with him. The night was only going to get darker.
Andras sprints after the boy, feeling his muscles engage. He feels good, and eases into a good, sustainable pace.
This little urchin can’t outrun me. I’ve got a few years on him, and unlike him, I’ve never missed a meal.
He looks for an opening where he can trip the boy up with his staff, and is secretly hoping that Awful will come and help, though he would never say it out loud.
As Andras takes off after the boy, Awful narrows and then rolls his eyes at him. He calls out to Andras, not shouting, but enough for his voice to carry.
"Why are we chasing this kid? Aren't you concerned about the monster or whatever? Maybe we... Oh, Son of a..."
Awful takes off after Andras, trying to keep pace, albeit reluctantly.
Alric and Hydrand decide to check the hallway for Father Solomon. Looking at the pool of blood and mud, the blood seems to be in one location. This must be where the Mud Monster was stabbed. Leading out to the door are footprints of mud.
You step outside, heading out the back door of the temple. The back of the temple is the local cemetery. A low iron fence surrounds the cemetery; grass and wildflowers cover the grounds within and the crooked stone markers bear illegible text and symbols.
The tracks go through the cemetery and over the fence on one side onto the dirt street. They seem to be headed towards the treeline at the edge of town, into the forest. But the tracks are hard to spot.
Andras takes off at a full sprint, going far faster than one would have expected of the scribe. Especially for one who spends most of his days sitting in a chair copying texts. Panicked, the boy scrambled around another corner, colliding with Hokey as she came out of the constable’s office.
Hokey managed to avoid getting bowled over by pressing her back against the stone building. The boy was not so lucky, as he tumbled to the ground. Looking down at him, he’s the exact boy the constable just described!
Meanwhile, Awful decided to try catching the boy around the other side of the building. Unfortunately, he guessed wrong and ended up not getting any closer.
The world seems to slow as Hokey reflexively braces herself against the wall of the Constable's office as a blur comes rushing towards her.
Really?! "HERE?!" Just take the free meal next time...
Watching the boy falling down, she immediately half lunges, half dives to chase after the boy, yelling, "Constable Cray! I found #5!
I hope this is at least worth the trouble...
Alric follows the blood and mud out the back of the temple, where the old cemetery laid. An instinctive chill runs down his spine; he remembered old ghost stories being told of the place at night when he was younger. Steeling his will though, he takes a deep breath and continues to make his way in amidst the stone markers and hearty weeds that grew.
The tracks went further and further throw, climbing over the low fence before disappearing underneath the boughs of the trees. Only darkness laid ahead and the wild grounds made it far too difficult to see anything.
"I can't see a damn thing." Alric mutters irritably, looking around where he could. "You see anything Hydrand?"
Hokey grabs ahold of the boy before he can get his footing, stopping him! Andras and Awful quickly catch up, just as the boy is yelling, No! Ya ain't gunna get me! Hands off!
He pulls out a sharp dagger and stabs at Hokey!
The knife cuts deep into the faun's arm, blood immediately pouring out and coating her forearm.
-------------------
In the cemetery, Alric spots something strange. One of the graves has recently been dug up. The earth is fresh there, although someone has taken the effort to try and conceal it. You can see shovel marks around loose sod. Once you see it, you start to see others. Two other graves have been dug up as well.
As Alric looks around, his eyes get drawn back to the cemtery. There was something...wrong. Something was not right at all. It bothered him as he made his way towards the cemetery again. The grave closest to him was disturbed, dug up, but it was concealed and hidden away. Looking for the signs, there were two others that had been desecrated as well.
"Hydrand..." Alric murmured, swallowing hard at the realization. "...I think someone has been digging up the dead."
Andras lunges with his staff at the boy, a solid blow to the solar plexus, looking to knock him out. Anyone who stabs someone else unprovoked is clearly trouble, and trouble is one thing that he doesn’t want to have in this town that has become his home.
Stepping outside behind Alric, he notes the cemetery and the nebulous aura of unease that hung over it.
"Spooky."
As if verbalizing it would make it easier to bear...
He follows Alric, who is clearly following the trail, but keeps his eyes rolling across the edge of visibility for any undue company that might be there. Definitely not because he was spooked. Definitely not.
Alric: "Hydrand... I think someone has been digging up the dead."
Oh. Great.
Of all the things someone could say in a cemetery, that wasn't the worst. Whatever the worst thing was, though, it must have been close neighbors.
"That's awful. Do you have any guesses as to why? Are people in this village buried with valuables? I hope it's just valuables. Mundane thieves certainly sound better than whatever this is turning out to be."