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You are familiars or animal companions whose masters are currently residing in the sizeable rivertown of Hochoch, near the junction of the Javan and the Realstream, the last navigable port and a trading center for the surrounding countryside.
Your masters are acquainted with one another; when one gets a summons from a couple of Elvish friends asking for help, each of the other masters are asked to come along. Your masters tell you that you all will be traveling together to a small village called Orlane to investigate some mysterious happenings and you prepare for the journey. It’s roughly a 4-day trip to Orlane…
From Hochoch, the Realstream is quickly crossed at a shallow ford, and you follow a caravan track that winds along the south side of a narrow creek. The plains here are flat and grassy. Occasionally, large cottonwood trees grow along the stream, but in general the plain is unforested.
For several days, you pass through an uninhabited region with no untoward experiences. Finally, staying always to the right of the creek, the track enters a region of prosperous farms surrounded by fields of grain or pastures for cows and goats.
Roughly a day from Orlane, you make camp in a corpse of woods near a stream. While your masters converse near the campfire, they encourage you to get to know the other familiars/companions better as you’ll be working together with them for the first time…
Spirit has needed no encouragement to speak with, well, everyone.
"Hey, you're big and strong! I'll bet you're fast! Maybe I could ride on your back when my paws get tired? Oh, and you can fly! And look at how the light catches your feathers and makes them look not as black! And you can fly too even though you don't have feathers! Are you like a bat? Oh, can any of you do magic? I can do magic! It's really cool!"
...it's sometimes difficult to get a word in edgewise with the enthusiastic little ferret, so it might be more accurate to say he's been speaking at everyone.
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And you can fly too even though you don't have feathers! Are you like a bat?"
"Yeeah shewer. Jist like a bat. Ya might even say, I may not be the demon Hochoch deserves, but I'm the one it needs right nao." She giggles.
"Oh, an' who says I don't have no feathahs?" adds the little demon, reaching into a tiny sack made of some sort of furry hide and pulling out a handful of black feathers that looks suspiciously like they may have been ... lost?... by Mr Pitch. "I'm savin' them up to make a pillah."
Lorelei, is a large elder white wolf, bearing magical divine markings on her fur, quiet, intimidating and wise in her demeanor. Compared to the boy she calls her son Leon, a somewhat grumpy, rude teenage human with the social skill of a old dwarf.
She lays by a tree, keeping a distant watch, keen eyes occasionally darting over to watch him... making sure he's being polite to the others.. or at least making an attempt.
You may little one, I would hardly notice your weight. Her tone is calming, confident and wise.
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Mheenah flutters about the grass like a nasty scaly butterfly gathering up an armful of little stones and acorns.
"So whatcha think them elfies want this time? Last time they dragged Elly out heah, there was some little undead ghost kid just cryyyyyin' all night long and throwin' off all the pretty elfie harmonies they was singin' around theah campfiahs. And we was all like 'HELLO! Bury yer little kid bones and you won't have this sort of problem!' They acted like they didn't know what we was talking' about, but *I* think the elfies was doin' human sacrifces! And then eatin' the kids! But Elly sorted it out. She's real smaat, like a brain, ya know?"
The little demon then flits up into the branches of a nearby tree and begins tossing the pebbles and nuts at a nest of bird's eggs, whistling cheerfully as she does.
"Yay!" Spirit takes Lorelei's words for immediate permission and shoots straight up one of her legs to perch on top of her. He stands out against her fur, his own dark brown fur broken up by a cream color on his paws and face, save for a 'mask' around his eyes.
Though the way the edges of his tail seem to fade in and out of view is definitely a bit different.
"Look at how tall I am!" he proclaims from between the wolf's ears. "Though it's not quite like flying. Maybe I'll be able to fly with magic someday? Wouldn't that be awesome?"
"I'll bet the elves just want more friends for a party! And there'll be lots of food and singing! Just think of how much fun it'll be!"
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"YAAAAAWWWN!" emotes Mheenah dramatically. "Have you evah been to an elfie pahty? They lie around half-awake and sing looong boring songs about theah ancestaas from 6000 years ago and about how lovely the stars are. And nibble grapes. Like, just nibble them."
She mimics dainty elf nibbling with an acorn, complete with little whimpering noises and infantile slurping sounds.
"Now DWARF pahties, those are a hoot! Lotsa arm-wrestlin' and buttin' heads and throwin' mugs and beahd-yankin'! Good noisy stomp-dancin'! Half the time it ends up in a full-on brawl! With broken bones and stuff! Now THAT'S fun!"
"They both sound fun to me! I haven't been to either of them!"
The little demon then flits up into the branches of a nearby tree and begins tossing the pebbles and nuts at a nest of bird's eggs, whistling cheerfully as she does.
From out of the shadow of some nearby tree branches, The quiet Mr. Pirch swoops in front of the nest to help protect the eggs, wings stretched.
Mr. Pitch cawed in Common.|
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Mheenah stops, puzzled. "Shuah, don't be maad." she says.
She looks down at the pebbles still in her hands, then back at the nest. Then realization washes over her. She drops the stones and acorns and lets them tumble back to the ground, then she puts her hands innocently behind her back.
"Ohhh. The eggs. Well, cullah my face red. They friends of yuahs?" she asks sweetly.
"No! Just protecting innocent babies NOT YET HATCHED from the forces of the Abyss!!" The incredible intelligent raven huffs at the repentant quasit.
"Maybe you could throw nuts into their beaks to feed them! They'd probably like that!" Spirit interjects.
"But you're so cool and brave, Mr. Raven!" He immediately switches to gushing over Mr. Pitch. "Valiantly putting yourself in harm's way to defend the weak!"
Giving the quasit a sharp pointed look, the raven swoops down to speak at eye level with the intelligent ferret.
"Please. Call me Mr. Pitch as my Master does. And I believe you are called Spirit, correct?"
it's considered bad luck to torment the weak. Lorelei comments on throwing things at hatchlings, That is why in all the stories villains always lose. they are cursed with bad luck
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it's considered bad luck to torment the weak.
"Heh. Obviously none of youse had older brothahs and sistahs." chirps the quasit as she flutters back down to the others.
That is why in all the stories villains always lose. they are cursed with bad luck
"Key word theah would be *stoaries* sweet-stuff." says Mheenah as she plucks a daisy and begins yanking away its petals and tossing them aside. "Plenty of villains are doin' just fine. But don't worry, I really ahm sahrry. I won't hurt no weaklings no more. Unless, you know, they deserve it. For bein' villains. Which will NOT be up to me to decide, because it has been noted, on occasion, that I can sometimes be just a tad --impulsive."
She looks away and holds up a hand, to stop people from protesting.
"Yeah, I'm Spirit!" The ferret jumps up and down excitedly on Lorelei's back. "Do you think they'll ever tell stories about us?"
Mr. Pitch tilts his head inquisitively at Spirit the Ferret.
"I-I don't know", said the perplexed raven. "I'm not sure I want stories to be told of me. I might be too famous and have humans trying to steal me from my Master." The raven cringes, bristling his feathers, which Spirit sees with his amazing eyesight a slight variation in Mr. Pitch's breast feathers, which look like an eight-pointed star.
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After talking a while, your masters get tired and retire to sleep and you join them in slumber. Up early the next morning, after a quick breakfast, you set out to finish your journey...
Later that evening, a cluster of buildings and trees becomes visible ahead, with the stone walls of a temple beyond—ORLANE.
At the outskirts of Orlane, a large grove of elms is visible to the left, while several wooden buildings border the road to the right.
You can hear your masters talk amongst themselves...
"Elven brothers won't be around...it's late..."
"We had best seek shelter for the night..."
"There's an inn up ahead, the Golden Grain...perhaps they have a late supper available and some rooms..."
This is a large wooden inn. It is decorated with carvings of sheaves of wheat along the eaves of the roof. The inn was whitewashed at one time, but much of the paint has peeled. A sign picturing a cluster of wheat and a pitcher of beer or ale hangs over the door. A corral and stable, apparently empty, are off to the side.
You follow your master as they enter...
The main room seems like a pleasant place, but the people are subdued, generally sitting alone. Those sitting together are not talking and no fires are lit in the fireplaces. Several barrels of light and dark beer are tapped behind the bar.
A hefty man approaches and greets your masters cheerfully. "Welcome to the Golden Grain; I be Bertram Berswill, proprietor. Can I get you beer, wine, or whiskey? We have some food still available as well...ye look like travelers and we have rooms available if ye be a needing one..."
One of your masters speaks. "Aye, we'll be a needing 4 rooms...and we'd like to put our things away and come back down and take you up on your food and drink."
The man smiles, "Aye, by all means...my man will show ye to yer rooms upstairs and we'll have some fare fore ye when ye return..."
You head upstairs and are given rooms that are side-by-side.
After quickly stowing your gear and washing off just a bit, you all head back downstairs to the fare that awaits you.
Bertram booms out, "Welcome again, my friends, please sit...eat, drink, and be merry. There be bread, cheese, and beer here at yer table ...if ye wish meat, we have a bit of fowl stew left and harder drink if ye wish. So tell me, brings ye to our fine village?"
Mr. Pitch perches on his Master's shoulder, or if that not comfortable, on the back of nearby chair, making sure to give his Master the Alertness (Ex) feat and ability.
Around others he or his Master doesn't know and trust, Mr. Pitch will only speak when asked and only as a simple raven, saying one or two words in Common is commanded.
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As the group prepares to enter the inn, Mheenah scampers up the side of her mistress like a scaly squirrel and takes a seat on Elly's shoulder, then snaps her fingers and vanishes from sight. This is customary whenever Elly goes into a public place, the presence of demons being prone to arousing comment.
When Bertram makes his offer, her voice chirps out from her unseen vantage point.
"I'll have some of the foul stew! And a hard drink!"
Spirit's master, Ingena, is a young Chelaxian woman who is restrained only by comparison to her hyperactive familiar. Fiercely intelligent, independent, and full of a zest for life, she had a real presence in any room.
"Just visiting with some friends," she says with a smile, to answer the tavernkeep's question. Before she can say more, however, her attention is drawn to a streak of dark brown fur.
"Spirit!" she half-shouts, half-sighs, chasing after the ferret as he runs up a table leg.
"Oh what's that? Can I have some? It smells good! But why are you sitting alone..." Spirit chatters as he reaches the top of the table, until he's interrupted by his master's hand.
Lifting the wiggling ferret to her shoulder, Ingena sighs. "Spirit, I've told you not to run off and bother people like that."
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Elly rolls her eyes. "Your weasel's a real charmer." she says in a sardonic monotone. Dressed all in black, with a long black coat and heavy black boots with lots of jangly silver buckles, Elly slumps down into one of the chairs. "I'll just have some bread. And a bottle of red wine."
With hair dyed jet black and dark eye makeup offsetting her ridiculously pale skin and her multiple ear, nose and cheek rings, one can be forgiven for not noticing how young Elly is, probably no more than 16. She slouches down in her chair, displaying little grace and less breeding. She pulls out a little silver poignard, hardly bigger than a letter opener.
"Leave the cork in. I like taking it out myself." she says blandly. "It's sorta like I'm scooping out its heart before I drink its blood." She rolls her head and looks up at the innkeeper to see if she's shocked him.
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The innkeeper nods his head at Ella, a bit taken aback. ”Yes, ma’am, magical…I be back with yer fare in a jiffy…”
"Master. Shady patron. Near bar. Smiling at us." Mr. Pitch whispers in his Master's ear.
Lorelei hates locations like this... loud, smelly, dirty, no places to keep secure.
Leon sits to the side watching and listening, brushing his adoptive mothers fur. Sharing a scrap of meat between the two.
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The innkeeper returns, along with a servant, with a bottle of red wine, a hard drink and some foul/fowl stew…
”Here ye go newcomers…before I leave ye to yer meal, may I be so bold as to ask ye the name of yer friends ye be a visitin’ here? I be a knowin’ everyone in Orlane and perhaps I can be tellin’ ye where yer friends be a livin’ so ye’ll be able to find ‘em on the morrow…”
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Mheenah notices the disapproving looks and thinks absolutely nothing of it, since this is usually how people look at her mistress.
And nosy innkeepers are hardly a surprise, since gossip is their true stock in trade, especially in dumpy little villages like this. The foul stew promises to be much more interesting, so she invisibly slides down Elly's arm and kips onto the table and takes a deep sniff.
"Eh. It's not THAT foul." she complains, then dips her finger in the cup of cheap gin, swirls it around, then slurps her finger dry. "Oooh! Now that's good hooch! Two hours ago, a very good year!"
"Oh they're some elves that mmphhmphmph!" Spirit's enthusiastic response is smoothered by his master's hand.
Ingena shakes her head with a grin. "No, little friend, no telling everyone all about us, okay?"
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The innkeeper gives a friendly smile at the ferret. "Enjoy the fare; we'll settle your tab in the morning when you check out." He then leaves you in peace with your food and drink.
You, at least those who partake, and your masters enjoy the food and drink. Mheenah guzzles a good deal of gin and, taking advantage of her invisibility, has a bit of mischief with the other patrons; Elly puts a dent in the bottle of red wine while reveling in her familiar's antics. But soon, as all are tired from a long day's travel, you follow your masters into your respective rooms and settle in for a good night's rest...
...but upon awakening the following morning, each of you find your masters missing from your rooms!
Lorelei immediately busts out of the room, sniffing around, not caring about making a ruckus, looking quite concerned rather than the wise old wolf she's been.
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Mheenah wakes a stretches her wings and yawns broadly. As usual, she sleeps in bat form and hangs from a nail driven into one of the overhead rafters.
The little demon is immediately puzzled by Elly's absence. Usually even when she rises to visit an outhouse or attend to some other mundane activity, she'll have a few quiet words for her familiar or will actually bring her along.
Mheenah disengages from her nail and quickly morphs back to her natural form, landing on the bed, then starts looking around for clues as to where her mistress might have wandered off to.
Investigating the room. Some points of interest for her search:
*Are Elly's clothes and boots still here? Her pack? (I'm assuming Mheenah remembers Elly disrobing to some degree and climbing into bed.)
*Is there any sign of a struggle? Torn sheets or pillows, blood marks, knocked over furnishings?
*Did she leave a note?
*Is the door to the room locked? (and was it locked last night?)
*Are the windows closed and intact?
*Also, detect magic--any magic auras that don't belong?
Mr. Pitch frantically searches for his Master. "Oh no..Oh no..Oh no..Oh no..Master..where are you? Oh no.."
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Lorelei sniffs out in the hallway…but she detects no recent smells of her beloved Leon…nor of any tracks he might’ve left…
Mr Pitch flies around squawking but sees not his master…
Mheenah conducts a thorough search of her room…Elly’s clothes and boots are gone…but her pack is still there. There are no signs of a struggle and no note…there are no windows in this room but the door is locked. While she detects no magical aura, she knows that any aura could be long gone depending on how long ago it was cast…
Spirit still sleeps blissfully in his room…
Spirit wakes up lazily, not particularly concerned that Ingena isn't around. He figures she's just down getting some breakfast or something. Taking advantage of the fact that he's alone for the moment, he looks through her pack and gets a snack.
After a little while he realizes she wouldn't usually leave him like this. He thinks for a bit.
Maybe she wants to play hide-and-seek! he decides, and excitedly starts searching for her. When she proves to not be in the room he uses his magic to open the door and go out into the hall, where he notices Lorelei sniffing around.
"Oh hi! Ingena is playing hide-and-seek! I'm going to go look for her!"
MY BOY IS MISSING... I CANT FIND HIS SCENT Lorelei is freaking out, pacing back and forth. very much the worried parent, Whoever took my boy will pay. I will find them leave their entrails for the buzzards...
"Oh... so all of our masters are playing hide-and-seek?" For just a moment it seems like this revelation might actually penetrate the little ferret's usually inexhaustible optimism... then he starts jumping up and down. "This will be so much fun! We can search for them together! They must have been planning this from the start for us!"
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Mheenah shakes her head. "Nooo, they're gone. At least my mistress is. I can normally *sense* where she is. But right now... nothin'."
"On the otha hand, it can't hurt to have a look around this joint. Might find a clue or somethin'."
The little demon anxiously pulls at her tiny horns, a habit she has when she's nervous. Her sinuous prehensile tail is stretched out straight and taut, the tip hovering just an inch above the floor.
"I don't think she's dead. I'm pretty sure I'd know if she was dead. Me an' her share a soul." She rubs her little hands together nervously. "It's complicated." she admits vaguely.
"Hey, where's the crow? He might not be able ta get outta his room. He don't have no thumbs."
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Mheenah flits up to the doorknob where she can hear the raven fluttering about inside. She tries the doorknob first, fluttering in midair and grabbing the knob with both arms and twisting her torso. Once she learns the door is locked, she settles her clawed feet on the knob, takes her tail in her hands like it's a spear, then starts jabbing it into the keyhole with both hands as she peers into the dark, cramped opening.
"Mistress had me do this trick all the time back home to bust inta her parent's wine cellar. Good times!" she says wistfully.
"Oh cool! That's a fun trick!" Spirit praises Mheenah. "I guess I'd probably know if something happened to Ingena too, so I'm sure everything's fine! I'll bet someone downstairs saw where they went!"
The little ferret charges off towards the stairs.
Mheenah easily picks the lock to the door and upon opening, sees a frantic Mr. Pitch screeching and looking for his master...
"Where is he!!" Mr. Pitch squawks as the door opens.