We just used Holy Stones to clean up the decks, says Woyzeck, about a minute behind in the flow of conversation.
”Oil. Or spirits. And flame. A sovereign cure for mold, poison, disease and darkness. Just. Use. Fire.” Ārwulf mutters before continuing:
”Like I said. Chickens again. Everything in this bloody place revolves around the bloody chickens.”
Darcy is now bored since she can't seem to figure out the writings, so she starts looking around the rest of the basement to see if anything else is out of place.
"So Father. This slab is obviously from ancient times. Have there been any other signs of this kind of stuff around here. You've been here like a hundred years... so you must have seen something. Or maybe you know some presumed crazy person who speaks of such things".
Slygol honours his word (for once) and refrains from any musings on the nature of the stone or character of the Holy Man.
Instead his interest is piqued by Ārwulf's continued mention of fire and flame. He leans in with his a hard smile;
"Fire gets my vote too. Burn something... someone... and they cast a shadow. Those black shapes can be as interesting as any dancing flame... You know if you look long enough at a shadow and it looks back..."
He taps his nose and nods knowingly.
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Ārwulf visibly shifts uncomfortably as Sly leans in conspiratorially.
”Er….yes…Slygol. Shadows. And such.” he returns, nodding slowly with raised eyebrows, hoping to seem equally conspiratorial.
What is he on about?!? Mad as a meataxe. But obviously has a fine appreciation for the purifying nature of flame.
Calhoun awaits the offered vinegar and, once he has received the liquid he applies it to the stone and watches as the reaction starts to clear more of the writing.
So it’s pickled eggs eh? Let’s go.
"So Father. This slab is obviously from ancient times. Have there been any other signs of this kind of stuff around here. You've been here like a hundred years... so you must have seen something. Or maybe you know some presumed crazy person who speaks of such things".
"Well, I guess we do have our share of oddities" - Almery pondered - "You have all those items people keep finding in their fields... But it has become also common belief that some sort of battle must have taken place around here in ancient times, which would account for that" - he shrugged - "I collect some of those, as you can see" - pointing towards a corner of the cellar.
Through a side door, you gained access to the basement/cellar which sits below the chapel - the place is packed with rugs, furniture, dust and items collected by Almery from those found by Grimmsgate farmers when tilling their fields - rusted weapons, tools used to carve stone, mining implements, and even ancient pieces of armour.
"Also just some time ago I received this recount from Yanissa. She is the wife of that brute Sheriff Dreng" - he paused - "I mean, nothing supernatural. It is just something not very common to Grimmsgate I guess - she told me she saw her husband meeting with some strange fellow not from our village. We don't usually get a lot of visitors, and that Dreng is not the most savory sort around"
"Why that girl decided to marry the Sheriff I will never understand - she lives cowed by him" - he went on - "I have tried to advise her before, but to no avail... Anyway, she asked me to drop by and have a word, since she had some uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but I haven't had the chance to speak with her yet. Maybe you could have a word with her, say you are going from my part?"
"Doesn't feel like it would be related, but if you are asking for 'out of the ordinary' things... Oh! And there was that two headed calf born sometime ago. That was strange"
Arwulf frowns.
”Meaning no disrespect Father, but I’m not sure I’d feel particularly comfortable fronting up to a known bully’s abode, who is also the Sherriff, to speak to his wife. It would be….unwise. Nor do I imagine that strangers purporting to speak to her for you would be…believable.”
He leans in to Woyzeck
”Hold her steady Woy, we’re in rough waters.”
"A strange man you say?" Lewill replies to the Father, "Well we can certainly see what she has to say, although it may prove difficult to get her to open up. I would say we need to time our visit to her when the Sheriff is away...perhaps we could arrange that in some way? And yes that two headed calf does bear investigating too!"
Woyzeck floats in an ocean of brown noise. Things will sort themselves out - they always do.
"Well let's go and get the vinegar and see if we can clean this tablet off enough for you to read."
The masked elf heads outside with the others.
"Mow where can we find this person with all the vinegar Father?"
"Now we're getting somewhere".
Darcy heads for the pointed-out corner to look at what else has been collected.
"Hey Lewill, Wanna come over here and look at this stuff with me. Might be something arcane in it".
As Darcy works her way through the pile she picks up on the conversation.
"Okay as I see it, we need to get more vinegar first, then see if we can catch Yanissa somewhere to ask her what she knows. After that we can talk to the two headed cow guy, and the bent sword guy, and do a little poking around of our own".
She then wipes here grimy palms on her pants.
"I'm pretty good at plotting plans but believe it or not famously inept at talking to people and making impressions. Might be best if someone more culturally acceptable does the talking. We can strategize before we speak".
Lewill pauses to look over to Darcy, a dubious look on his face. "Are you sure about this? That all looks like a pile of junk." He sighs briefly, "Oh very well, you know I could never turn you down." He then turns back to examine the pile of junk...
When the Father mentions Sheriff Dreng and his meeting, Slygol's eyes narrow and harden as he mutters an aside;
"I would be happy to distract the Sheriff... so you all can question his spouse..."
He directs his thoughts at the Father;
"Tell me Pater. Does the good Sheriff have any vices? Does he work alone or with constables? I would hate to take up his valued time and leave the village in the grip of lawlessness in his absence..."
The assassin's cruel smile then returns;
"Tell his wife that the Mistress of Shadow can also grant her a divorce from his shade should she wish it... Let her grow anew."
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”The Withers have the vinegar, Calhoun. They make pickled….pickles. And also run the chickenhouses. So….we can ask for…get…the vinegar, find out if the mysterious Mr Fox is a fox or a hellspawn with a taste for chook AND do a little…surmising as to the whereabouts and numerical advantage or…lack…thereof of our kind Sheriff Dreng the Brave, beater of women.” Ārwulf says, quite happy with himself for coming up with A Plan.
"Well let's go and get the vinegar and see if we can clean this tablet off enough for you to read."
The masked elf heads outside with the others.
"Mow where can we find this person with all the vinegar Father?"
"The Withers live toward the limits of the village, next to the communal coop - just follow the clucking" - Almery chuckles, happy with his own jest.
Lewill pauses to look over to Darcy, a dubious look on his face. "Are you sure about this? That all looks like a pile of junk." He sighs briefly, "Oh very well, you know I could never turn you down." He then turns back to examine the pile of junk...
Lewill detects no magic in any of the items the Father has gathered over the years.
"Tell me Pater. Does the good Sheriff have any vices? Does he work alone or with constables? I would hate to take up his valued time and leave the village in the grip of lawlessness in his absence..."
The assassin's cruel smile then returns;
"Tell his wife that the Mistress of Shadow can also grant her a divorce from his shade should she wish it... Let her grow anew."
The old man is clearly uncomfortable with Sly's words - "Well... He tends to stop by The Pebble more often than not" - he replies - "And now that you ask yes, he has two constables - if you want to call them that - who are usually with him. Clud and Dimburt they are called" - he paused with a serious look at the smiling man - "I am not sure what else you are hinting at young man, but I will ask you once again to remember where you are, lest you outstay your welcome in the house of The Lady"
What now Matey?, he asks Arwulf. We grabbin pickles an’ eggs… an’ pickled eggs? Or we givin the wrong un a good thrashing?
"Off to get the vinegar first, then check out these chickens. We can deal with this reeve and his thugs later...once we have uncovered the writing on that stone. How does that sound?"
Calhoun heads out the door following the directions he was given.
Slygol takes in the info with a smirk and a nod;
"Oh you've given me all I need Pater. For that I thank you."
He then affixes the priest with a hard look;
"Purpose served I no longer need to suffer your sanctimonious ramblings and leave your hallowed hovel with my own Lady's wisdom: old sins have long shadows... You would do well to remember that."
The assassin turns and leaves, pausing to address the adventuring company;
"Should you still wish to work with me I'll be outside. I have some information that may prove useful to those that do."
Ārwulf struggles a little to keep up.
”Yep, exactly as I…Calhoun…said…Woy.” He’s about to follow out when he checks himself.
”Waitaminnit. Woy! Which one’s the wrong ‘un?” wondering whether Woy means the shire reeve or Slygol…or the Priest?
Can’t be sure with Woy…
***********
Once outside, Ārwulf nods to Slygol.
”Whatchoo got, Sly?”
Outside Sly begins to unpeel another boiled egg liberated from the church's bounty as he exited.
He returns Ārwulf's nod;
"So it won't surprise ye I'm not here to see the sights. Been tasked to find someone... fella named Rayne D’Anzeray who has sour connections to the Wizard's Academy. Tracked him to Endhome, then he hired muscle and headed here to Grimmsgate. He had some interest in the chapel, but if he did and came here already, then Old Father Honesty inside isn't letting on..."
The assassin flashes a hard smile;
"Hence my question 'bout your "employer", since you lot more than fit the bill on hired sellswords..."
Slygol takes a bite of the egg, then between swallows continues;
"Am guessing Rayne could be the stranger conversing with Shire-Reeve Dreng. So... while I prefer to work alone... if you're not his muscle and Dreng is in cahoots, then reckon I need your help to even the odds. I will help you lot in this "pickle the stone" quest and you help me in my job?"
Arwulf chews the inside of his cheek and looks out over the countryside as he considers Sly’s words. He looks at Sly.
”We are not his muscle. But the rest….What you say…tracks. Though I feel Rayne either hasn’t investigated the stone yet, or if he has - and thus the mold we saw cleared was cleared by him and/or his cronies - good Father Almery has no knowledge of it.”
He looks back to the middle distance.
”I’m no pious theist, but I know people. I feel Almery is telling the truth.”
Again, he looks at Slygol.
”And much as you might feel a professional reluctance to divulge who *your* employer is, I’m guessing it is another wizard?”
As the assassin mentions talk of wizards and stones here, Lewill's ears perk up with definite interest.
"Folks from the Wizard's Academy aren't known for their charible works. They are interested in one thing only - POWER!" He clenches his fist in emphasis. "If this Rayne is here then he must be looking for something...and believes the sheriff may know how to find it! Perhaps we should hasten to chat with...hmmm what was her name? Yanissa I think..."
The lean assassin listens to Ãrwulf's rationale;
"Fair call. If Rayne has investigated without the Pater's knowledge then he'd have to be in with someone. This Shire-Reeve makes sense."
Slygol smiles at Lewill's passion;
"I'm not in the charitable business either. Reckon my paymaster is likely a wizard or a Guild fixer, but he revealed little."
Ārwulf muses.
”Well, way I see it - the actual information appears to be held by the stone. Yanisa doesn’t have it…I don’t *think*. And the best way to get the information, before Rayne is to clear the much with vinegar. So either we split up, some interro…asking Rayne what she knows, and the rest acquiring the vinegar, or we forget about the poor lady of the Reeve and get straight to the vinegar.”
Ārwulf shifts again uncomfortably.
”Much as I hate to abandon a damsel in distress, I’m for getting the solvent vinegar, and I advise that we all stick to that course. Time appears to be of the essence - Rayne may be searching for a way to discern the runes as we are. I’d rather…beat him to it.”
The grizzled warrior slaps Woy affectionately on the shoulder. ”But Woy, if you like…mebbe you could lend a hand to those who might wish to aid fair Yanissa - and possibly beat Dreng to a pulp.”
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"That man as a very dark disposition" - father Almery comments to the ones remaining inside, as Sly left the cellar - "I would not be surprised if he was some sort of outlaw"
Woyzeck gives a slow smile revealing several broken and missing teeth.
You want me to toe the line with the Reeve an’ his cabin boys?
The elf slows and stops as he realizes that no one is coming with him.
"Hey, are we doing this or something else?"
He waits until someone decides where they are going.
Woyzeck doesn’t know…
"I say the vinegar can wait...that stone isn't going anywhere. Let's find Yanissa."
Slygol mulls the discussion;
"We best keep an eye out for Rayne and his muscle also. Been told he's tall, gaunt man with deepset facial features and a pale complexion. Middle aged, with black hair and a fine trimmed black beard. No idea what he's telling folk he does for a living... but the reality won't be good."
He smirks;
"Not that I'm one to talk."
He finishes the last morsel of egg then looks to the others;
"So we find Yanissa see what she knows, then get the pickle juice for the stone. The old fart mentioned the Pebble. You lot been there? Inn or tavern?"
Ārwulf scrunches his face up trying to decide.
”Watering hole that smells of arse? They didn’t make any mention of rooms, so….tavern. Ish.”
He turns to Calhoun, trying his best Wood Elfin, instead of the formal High Elven his grandfather schooled him in.
” Maen nhw'n maedel…um….meddwl bod y fenyw Yanisa yn gui…gwybod rhywbeth pwysig. Ac nad yw'r garreg yn symud. Rwy'n maed…med…medd…meddwl mai'r garreg yw'r unig beth pwysig a bydd yn tynnu'r….ummm…what’s the word…dell…no….um…ah yes! dewin tywyll yn ôl. Ond mae'n debyg y byddwn ni'n ei golli ni waeth inni wirio am finegr neu ar y ddynes ...”
Darcy continues to look through the pile of stuff for anything good, then realizes that most of the others have obviously been distracted and looks for a cloth to wipe the grime from her face and hands... finding a discarded tabard to use without asking.
"Oh I don't know. I've met honorable outlaws, and disreputable inlaws. They're all about the same to me. This's one reason I don't tend to follow the tenants of the so-called good gods. They're quick to pass judgement without looking in the mirror first".
She then heads outside to hear the ends of the conversation before the others depart.
"Yeah! That stone is here for good. Let's go have a conversation with this Yanissa".
She cracks her knuckles with a grimace.
Nodding, Calhoun walks towards Arnwolf.
"Very good then. Let us go. You speak the Eldar tongue quite well, Where did you learn it from?"
Ārwulf blushes ever so slightly at Calhoun’s compliment.
”My grandfather tutored me in Elvish…I think he may have seen some adventuring days in his youth, and often spoke kindly of your people…Kinder perhaps than I can manage in your tongue!” he smiles.
Seeing a slight opening to learn more himself, Ārwulf presses his own question.
” Maddeuwch i mi, pam gwisgo'r mwgwd i chi? Ydych…chit…chi-…damn…ah…chi'n rhyw fath o alltud, neu a yw hyn i…bobo…bobble…umm…bobl guddio rhagddi?”
Sheriff Dreng’s house is not hard to find. Following the directions provided by Almery, you come across perhaps one of the biggest and in less disrepair houses you have seen so far in the village.
The house is well kept, with clusters of wildflowers and trimmed shrubbery growing about the encompassing fence. Through an open window you can see a young woman busy with some chores in the kitchen.
Wot now eh? This the joker with th’ vinegar?, asks the big man, behind the 8 ball when it comes to understanding the situation.
"Cefais fy nghreithio o ddamwain yn fy ieuenctid" the elf replies in his birth tongue. In common he adds, "I apprenticed with an alchemist and an experiment I was working on blew up in my face. I was lucky to have not lost my sight!"
Ārwulf’s eyes light up at Calhoun’s explanation.
”Explosion, huh. Yes…very lucky. So you still know how to make any explosions?”
He then notices they have arrived. He shakes his head to Woy.
”No, different pickle. This is the wife-beater’s house. The lady of the house appears to be inside…”
Ārwulf looks around in consternation. ”Darcy! Daaar-ceee!?! Go say something nice to the young lady before she sees an armed mob at her gate…”
Ārwulf nevertheless puts a hand on his halberd and loiters at said gate.
Slygol notes the interplay between Ārwulf and Calhoun with interest. As the group send Darcy (or anyone else) to engage the Shire-Reeve's wife, he mutters a reminder;
"Check if the stranger she saw speaking to her husband matches Rayne... but best not mention my quarry by name."
"Okay. Got it under control".
She walks up to the window and knocks on the Frame. "Ay there! Got a minute to have a bit of a chat? Something you're cooking sure smells appetizing".
The woman is startled by Darcy's appearance at her window, but she regains her composure seconds later - "Hello... I thought I had closed the fence gate..." - she replies - "Can I help you Miss....?"
In his mind Woyzeck hears the cries of seagulls and the lapping of seawater against a wooden hull…
In his mind Woyzeck hears the cries of seagulls and the lapping of seawater against a wooden hull…
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