He turns to the crowd. “There will be no burning today. Padre Jalun will be holding his service in the church immediately.”
Keildrithe ceases to intone his strange verses, and slows the rythm and intensity of his drumming until it completely fades, gradually lowering his drum as he does so.
"Thank you, charitable Friar. People of Barg, I pledge to do all within my power to prove Ms. Troskie innocent, and to serve the interests of our once peaceful village. I accept the Friar's challenge."
Well, Troy was thrilled with the news. He had stuck his neck out to defend the lass, and now even if the criminal wasn't found right away, he wasn't being held responsible. He slipped away from the throng and moves toward Keildrithe, giving a small salute by touching his fingers briefly to his hat.
"Well done, musician. I'll be happy to bring the truth of this mistake to light with you. If you didn't catch it before, my name is Troy Kamgul. Well met."
"Thank you," replies the bard feintly, in a somewhat tired and shaky voice. "It would be an honour for me to accept your assistance... though I be hesitant to risk the lives of strangers on the quest I have pledged myself to... which may prove to be an impossible quest. But where are my manners... I am Keildrithe Oldsun, son of Greineathe the Peacemaker... Well met indeed."
Good job you two, i see you did very well in helping that poor woman, People call me..." Jirkin pauses for a second. "My name is Roy Jinkins"
Keildrithe turns to look at Roy, with some apprehension at the sight of his mask. After a moment of hesitation, he responds: "Thank you, Jinkins. Forgive me, it is a rare occasion when one introduces themselves to me while wearing a mask. But thank you for your kind words... As I was telling friend Kamgul, I am reluctant to involve others in my doomed quest, though..."
I take my hands off of the hilts of my weapons and walk to where my companions are standing. Hearing 'Roy Jenkin' introduce himself I become a little suspicious, theres something about his face and voice that tells me he isn't being entirley honest. "I prefer to know the real names of those with whom I adventure. Tell us 'Roy Jenkin' what is your real name. I am not one who appreciates being lied to." Once again my hands are resting on the hilts of my weapons.
Looking at Alton:
"I am surprised to find one of the small folk in Barg, and am quite certain that we have not met. I am Keildrithe Oldsun, son of Greineathe the Peacemaker. You are either brave or foolish to come to Barg, little one, for these days the Artonites are as likely to burn your kind as they are to burn witches..."
"The Faluens is not a good name to have right now, my family has too many rumors in it... bad rumors that i plan to seek out more information on. I will tell you more later on, that is unless you want to hear about my whole life story...but i can't say it in an open area, or i will be the one up here.(the square where the burning was about to happen) I will be glad to help find the real witch and i may be able to find some answers too."
"I am grateful for your commitment to this quest, friend Faluen... and I trust that your deeds shall speak louder than your family's tainted heritage..."
Laithe now leaves the entrance of the pub and moves over to where the group stands. He reaches out and clasps Keildrithe by the arm - "that was some performance" he says "if all my bumbling efforts at getting my message through to people only reached one person, I'm glad it was you".
He turns to Jirkin and holds out his hand, introducing himself "I am Laithe. If you are willing to help in our efforts to vindicate Gosia, then I thank you. We can use all the help we can get."
At the sound of Troy's voice, addressing the priest, Laithe turns with him, standing by his side and folding his arms, adding silent support.
To Laithe:
"Friend Greycoat, I am the one who is honoured to have you on my side. I have sought you these past weeks, and now see that our destinies are intertwined. I am both overjoyed and saddened by this, for I may end up endangering your life even more..."
Keildrithe turns with Laithe and steps into line with Troy, as the red-headed man speaks out...
“The correct title is Inquisitor actually … Inquisitor Vorn.” He motions for the guards to let you past to the constabulary if you wish.
Keildrithe mutters under his breath: "I thought as much... this is an unfortunate turn of events indeed..."
His heart quickens, his fists clenche and knuckles whiten, and so he moves with purpose past the Inquisitor, knowing that now is not the time to undo Keildrithe's good work, but steeling himself for a shout or attack at his vulnerable back.As he moves to catch up with Gosia however, his mind races - was this the man who slaughtered his people?
As Troy catches up, Laithe continues to walk but speaks quietly to him "This is more serious than I thought; we cannot trust this man. And I fear Gosia may not have 7 days as promised - nor may we for that matter. We will need to be on guard at all times."
Keildrithe keeps pace with the others...
"Are you well, friend Greycoat? Something seems to trouble you... I heartily agree that we cannot trust an Inquisitor, but I suspect he will do nothing to us now. I propose to enter the Constabulary, with one of you... while the others stay behind should treachery be brewing within the 'halls of law and order'... What think you of this? Troy, would you accompany me? "
Keildrithe keeps pace with the others...
"Are you well, friend Greycoat? Something seems to trouble you... I heartily agree that we cannot trust an Inquisitor, but I suspect he will do nothing to us now. I propose to enter the Constabulary, with one of you... while the others stay behind should treachery be brewing within the 'halls of law and order'... What think you of this? Troy, would you accompany me? "
Troy glances at the others, and then nods to Keildrithe. "I'd be happy to." After all, he throught to himself, the girl was rather pretty, apart from whatever beatings she had endured at the hands of these 'good' men. Perhaps if he made a good impression she would feel indebted to him. The lanky human smiled and swaggered just a bit as they followed the guards toward the building.
Keildrithe keeps pace with the others...
"Are you well, friend Greycoat? Something seems to trouble you... I heartily agree that we cannot trust an Inquisitor, but I suspect he will do nothing to us now. I propose to enter the Constabulary, with one of you... while the others stay behind should treachery be brewing within the 'halls of law and order'... What think you of this? Troy, would you accompany me? "
Troy glances at the others, and then nods to Keildrithe. "I'd be happy to." After all, he throught to himself, the girl was rather pretty, apart from whatever beatings she had endured at the hands of these 'good' men. Perhaps if he made a good impression she would feel indebted to him. The lanky human smiled and swaggered just a bit as they followed the guards toward the building.
As Jirkin enter the jail cell he gets a chill going down his spine, reminding him of how his family was tortured for being wisards. "This is terrible, i think my task can wait later we must help her."
Looking at Alton:
"I am surprised to find one of the small folk in Barg, and am quite certain that we have not met. I am Keildrithe Oldsun, son of Greineathe the Peacemaker. You are either brave or foolish to come to Barg, little one, for these days the Artonites are as likely to burn your kind as they are to burn witches..."
Perhaps, but Fortune has favored me so far and I generally pass as a simple entertainer. Besides, if they decided to try to burn me at the stake I would take a few a them with me. I'm good a tgetting out of unfortunate situations.
I follow Laithe into the constabulary. Keeping the Inquisitor in sight as long as possible. "He will betray us. I think that we fill end up in battle with him before this is over."
Looking at Alton:
"I am surprised to find one of the small folk in Barg, and am quite certain that we have not met. I am Keildrithe Oldsun, son of Greineathe the Peacemaker. You are either brave or foolish to come to Barg, little one, for these days the Artonites are as likely to burn your kind as they are to burn witches..."
Perhaps, but Fortune has favored me so far and I generally pass as a simple entertainer. Besides, if they decided to try to burn me at the stake I would take a few a them with me. I'm good a tgetting out of unfortunate situations.
I follow Laithe into the constabulary. Keeping the Inquisitor in sight as long as possible. "He will betray us. I think that we fill end up in battle with him before this is over."
"I would agree with you Alton, i would be burned too." This reminds me of a place i was taken to. How happy i am not to be there any more,those idiot... oh um sorry i guess my tougue sliped. [ooc] Jirkin then looks at the ceil where the woman is being held, "Hello there," Jirkin says kindly to the woman,
I smile at Gosia. "Hello madam, as you probably heard from Keildrithe's speech to the padre we are investigating the murders of which you are accused and we need some additional information. Do you mind?"
"Would you know who this witch is? or do you know where this witch has a hideout?
I hold my action as well.
Are you well, friend Greycoat? Something seems to trouble you... I heartily agree that we cannot trust an Inquisitor, but I suspect he will do nothing to us now. I propose to enter the Constabulary, with one of you... while the others stay behind should treachery be brewing within the 'halls of law and order'... What think you of this? Troy, would you accompany me?
"I'm just getting a bad feeling from the inquisitor, that's all. I think this might not be the first time I've met him. You're right of course - he could see you had swayed the people in our favour and if he hasn't already made a move he is not likely to now. But it is imperative we stay together and watch each other's backs.
I don't think the task of clearing Gosia's name is impossible, but I do think he will do all he can to make sure we don't succeed"
Reaching the constabulary, Laithe moves to one side of the door and turns, his back to the wall. "I would like to meet Gosia, but I agree that a couple of us should remian outside, and I am probably of more use in that role. I will stay and keep an eye out. Send a signal if you need me". He remains there, leaning against the wall and scanning the square, keeping an eye on the soldiers and the inquisitor. He tightens his grip on his spear.
"I don't think the task of clearing Gosia's name is impossible, but I do think he will do all he can to make sure we don't succeed."
"Agreed," says Keildrithe to Laithe.
Keildrithe places his beldach back into his pack as he approaches the constabulary, and leaves the pack along the wall beside Laithe. "You would not mind keeping an eye on this, friend Laithe, while I enter the constabulary? My beldach is precious to me, for it has been handed down from generation to generation by the hedilye in my family. I do not wish to chance that the authorities would try to confiscate it from me."
He then proceeds to slide his dagger inside his coat of armour, against his side and halfway down his torso. "Ah, this is awkward, but, just in case...".
Then, to the party: "I believe it is my responsibility to enter the constabulary. As a resident of these parts for some years, I have more knowledge of the local factions and politics, and even of Gosia's place in the community... this should be helpful while questioning her. I have asked that Troy accompany me, for, in my opinion, the guards and priests are less likely to trouble him or to feel threatened by him, since he appears to be (no offense intended, friend) naught but a simple highwayman. Given that I am the one against whom they will hold the strongest grudge at this point in time, I do not think it necessary to risk the lives or freedom of all my newfound companions, who may adhere to faiths or arcane practices that may be offensive to the Artonites. I would, however, feel more secure knowing that there are two or three persons staying behind, with "unusual talents," to bail us out in case of trouble...
"Of course, you are all free men, free to decide your own courses of action... these are but my thoughts.... So? Who shall enter, and who shall stay? Laithe and Troy have already spoken... what of the rest of ye?"
Keildrithe's gaze wanders from Alton to Jirkin...
"I don't think the task of clearing Gosia's name is impossible, but I do think he will do all he can to make sure we don't succeed."
"Agreed," says Keildrithe to Laithe.
Keildrithe places his beldach back into his pack as he approaches the constabulary, and leaves the pack along the wall beside Laithe. "You would not mind keeping an eye on this, friend Laithe, while I enter the constabulary? My beldach is precious to me, for it has been handed down from generation to generation by the hedilye in my family. I do not wish to chance that the authorities would try to confiscate it from me."
He then proceeds to slide his dagger inside his coat of armour, against his side and halfway down his torso. "Ah, this is awkward, but, just in case...".
Then, to the party: "I believe it is my responsibility to enter the constabulary. As a resident of these parts for some years, I have more knowledge of the local factions and politics, and even of Gosia's place in the community... this should be helpful while questioning her. I have asked that Troy accompany me, for, in my opinion, the guards and priests are less likely to trouble him or to feel threatened by him, since he appears to be (no offense intended, friend) naught but a simple highwayman. Given that I am the one against whom they will hold the strongest grudge at this point in time, I do not think it necessary to risk the lives or freedom of all my newfound companions, who may adhere to faiths or arcane practices that may be offensive to the Artonites. I would, however, feel more secure knowing that there are two or three persons staying behind, with "unusual talents," to bail us out in case of trouble...
"Of course, you are all free men, free to decide your own courses of action... these are but my thoughts.... So? Who shall enter, and who shall stay? Laithe and Troy have already spoken... what of the rest of ye?"
Keildrithe's gaze wanders from Alton to Jirkin...
Jirkin picks up his mask that was on the grounds puts it back on answering "I guess that means i will stay outside, just whistle of you need help in there."
Keildrithe places his beldach back into his pack as he approaches the constabulary, and leaves the pack along the wall beside Laithe. "You would not mind keeping an eye on this, friend Laithe, while I enter the constabulary? My beldach is precious to me, for it has been handed down from generation to generation by the hedilye in my family. I do not wish to chance that the authorities would try to confiscate it from me."
Laithe stands over the pack protectively "None shall touch it while I still stand to protect it".
He then turns to Jirkin. "I appreciate the company, friend Faluen. Perhaps you can explain why exactly you feel the need to wear a mask; that is, if it is not too sensitive a subject for you?
Entering the constabulary through the low doorway, you see a small room containing a long wooden desk and a few hard looking wooden chairs. Hanging on the walls around the stone walled room are various items including a shield bearing the Baron’s coat of arms over two crossed shortswords, a framed verse of Artonite scripture, and several sconces containing currently unlit torches.
Behind the desk, a small, cluttered office can be viewed through an open doorway at the far end of the room. In the same wall is a closed heavy, iron bound oak door with a small barred viewing window in it, and an arched opening which leads to a short, shadowed corridor.
The two soldiers guide Gosia to one of the chairs, pulling it to the centre of the room, and partially undo the bindings holding her hands, tying them expertly to the back of the chair. The female soldier hesitates, seeming unsure as to whether to take the gag from her mouth.
One of the brown uniformed constables enters the room, just behind you a short, rotund, Atuscan looking man, with a harried expression. He heads to the desk and begins clearing papers, glancing up at you as he does so.
Outside the building, only a few people are left in the rapidly clearing square – including the Inquisitor and his two guards, who stroll after you towards the constabulary at a slower pace.
As the group talks outside the doorway, he stops several paces away, waiting with a slightly amused expression curling his lip. Once it has been decided who is entering the building, he starts forward again, heading towards the still open doorway, whilst his guards look ready to take up positions outside along with Jirkin and Laithe. The men stare curiously at Jirkin’s unmasked face, then one of them gasps and makes a rapid star-sign in the air before his face as he notices the points of Jirkin’s half elven ears.
The Inquisitors attention is drawn at this, and he too notes Jirkin’s features. He makes a “harrumph” noise in his throat, but says no more and ducks to enter the room.
Entering the constabulary through the low doorway, you see a small room containing a long wooden desk and a few hard looking wooden chairs. Hanging on the walls around the stone walled room are various items including a shield bearing the Baron’s coat of arms over two crossed shortswords, a framed verse of Artonite scripture, and several sconces containing currently unlit torches.
Behind the desk, a small, cluttered office can be viewed through an open doorway at the far end of the room. In the same wall is a closed heavy, iron bound oak door with a small barred viewing window in it, and an arched opening which leads to a short, shadowed corridor.
The two soldiers guide Gosia to one of the chairs, pulling it to the centre of the room, and partially undo the bindings holding her hands, tying them expertly to the back of the chair. The female soldier hesitates, seeming unsure as to whether to take the gag from her mouth.
One of the brown uniformed constables enters the room, just behind you a short, rotund, Atuscan looking man, with a harried expression. He heads to the desk and begins clearing papers, glancing up at you as he does so.
Outside the building, only a few people are left in the rapidly clearing square – including the Inquisitor and his two guards, who stroll after you towards the constabulary at a slower pace.
As the group talks outside the doorway, he stops several paces away, waiting with a slightly amused expression curling his lip. Once it has been decided who is entering the building, he starts forward again, heading towards the still open doorway, whilst his guards look ready to take up positions outside along with Jirkin and Laithe. The men stare curiously at Jirkin’s unmasked face, then one of them gasps and makes a rapid star-sign in the air before his face as he notices the points of Jirkin’s half elven ears.
The Inquisitors attention...
Jirkin puts his mask back on nerviouslyJirkin whispers to Laithe "I have a bad feeling, Laithe, i have many reasons for wearing this mask and i don't plan to tell you now,but i have a feeling that i just got myself in danger." Jirkin looks at the ground "...I am sorry..." Jirkin then stares at the building, twitchs, then waits for a whistle to come out of the jail.
Laithe waits until the Inquisitor has entered the building, and makes sure he is in a position to watch the guards who remain outside before responding to Jinkin:
"You are in no more danger now that you were the moment you sided with us in the square, so perhaps it is we who should apologise to you. I'm not sure what your past holds, but I think we have all made ourselves an enemy of the Inquisitor today. So wear the mask if you feel you must, but perhaps there is no longer a need for it. Your face seems to have an unnerving effect on the guards, which certainly does not bother me".
Laithe now falls silent and, whilst keeping an eye on the guard outside, strains his ears to hear what is happening inside.
Jirkin nods, Jirkin takes off the mask...and places it in his pack.Then making sure that the guard are arn't planing a sneak attack or a trap
I stay outside, hiding in the closest shadows to the door to the constabulary. I draw my weapons and attempt to hear whats being said inside.
The guards who remain outside stand on the opposite side of the doorway to where Laithe and Jirin wait (in the confusion at the doorway, Alton slips away into the shadows, out of sight of all but the most astute observer).
The guards stand to attention, weapons sheathed but hands positioned so as to draw them at a moments notice. They occasionally glance at Jirkin and Laithe with barely concealed looks of distaste.
The two soldiers guide Gosia to one of the chairs, pulling it to the centre of the room, and partially undo the bindings holding her hands, tying them expertly to the back of the chair. The female soldier hesitates, seeming unsure as to whether to take the gag from her mouth.One of the brown uniformed constables enters the room, just behind you a short, rotund, Atuscan looking man, with a harried expression. He heads to the desk and begins clearing papers, glancing up at you as he does so.
The Inquisitors attention is drawn at this, and he too notes Jirkin’s features. He makes a “harrumph” noise in his throat, but says no more and ducks to enter the room.
Before the Inquisitor enters, Keildrithe scans the premises. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim interior. He walks a few paces into the room, and then rests his back against the stone wall, halfway between the entrance and the spot where Gosia is being held. His hands are clasped before him. "Troy, if you please, keep your eyes on the Inquisitor and his men," he murmurs, while glancing at the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Keildrithe then turns his attention to Gosia and, in a quiet and soothing, yet firm voice: "Be strong, my lady... we shan't let you down..."
Finally, as the Inquisitor approaches the doorway, Keildrithe (back still to the wall) bows his head, but looks at the entrance out of the corner of his eye. "We are grateful for your wisdom and mercy, fearless servant of Arton," he says softly, with respect. "And the people of Barg shall also remember this day as a testament to Arton's grace. I do not take this boon you grant us lightly..."
Inquisitor Vorn nods in apparent graciousness at Keildrithe’s respectful tone.
“Guards, unbind this … woman’s mouth. I’m sure that if we are alert she will not be able to bewitch us all.” Then to Keildrithe, “Question her as you will Oldsun. I will not interfere.”
Troy gives the inquisitor a slight bow while Keildrithe handles the formalities, and stands back to let the guards pass and un-gag the woman.
One of the soldiers reaches around and undoes Gosia’s gag. The woman lets out a sob – of relief, fear, pain, it is difficult to tell.
“I did not kill those girls,” she says in a low, almost emotionless voice, “as I have told the Inquisitor many times. I would never do that. I could not. But … I don’t know who or what did!” Her voice rises, and cracks. “If I did, I would tell!”
She slumps forward in her chair.
“I did not kill those girls,” she says in a low, almost emotionless voice, “as I have told the Inquisitor many times. I would never do that. I could not. But … I don’t know who or what did!” Her voice rises, and cracks. “If I did, I would tell!”
She slumps forward in her chair.
"Gosia," says Keildrithe gently as he kneels before her, "my friends and I have come to your side because we believe in your innocence. Indeed, there are many in Barg who also believe in your innocence. My name is Keildrithe Oldsun, son of Greineathe the Peacemaker -- I believe that you might have been acquainted with my father. Although you and I have never met, I know of your good deeds, and of how you have helped many a young mother with difficult births.
"I know that you are not responsible for the recent deaths and disappearances... I know that you are frightened, that you have suffered much lately... But in order for my companions and I to be able to help you, we need you to remember if anything unusual has been happening around your home of late..."
"Do you understand Karandic, Gosia?"
Keildrithe keeps his voice slightly hushed, trying to limit what the Inquisitor and his guards can glean from the conversation...
"Gosia, were you acquainted with the young Feile, and the others who have disappeared or been found slain? Do you have any idea at all who might have done these horrible things to them, and why? Have you seen any strange signs around your cottage of late, or know of fell creatures in the Dimwood that might have had a role in these atrocities? Please, take your time to think, Gosia..."
“Yes, I do,” the woman whispers back in Karandic, casting a flickering glance towards the Inquisitor, who stares at the two of you intently, but betrays little sign as to whether he can understand, or even hear your conversation.
Despite the woman’s exotic features, her accent and colouring would indicate that she has some Karandic heritage.
“The girl Feile was quite well known to me, and I knew Magda also.” She sniffs, and closes her eyes briefly. “The other two I knew by name, and perhaps face. They were all young girls, just blossoming into womanhood. Perhaps … but this is a tight knit community, despite what you might think after today. I can’t imagine that any of us would have done this … maybe, I don’t know. They say I sacrificed them, to the gods, or to demons – it’s all the same to the Artonites – but of course I did not!”
She draws in a gasping breath. “They say that the girls were found in the Fair Meadow, a clearing in the forest a short distance from my cottage. There are … things in the wood, and they have become more bold – or more numerous – of late. But I know little of them, I lock my door at night, and my walls, or my wards, keep things at bay. Sometimes I hear things outside … strange noises, strange tongues. But to look would be to invite trouble …” her voice trails off.
“There are certainly dark things in the woods,” she begins again. “There is one who knows much more of these things than I, a friend, a woodsman by the name of Jarred Hale. He lives in the forest to the west, in a place called the Valley of Snails. I have never been there, but he has hinted to me in the past that he shares the valley with some fey creatures, perhaps mischevious, perhaps evil. He has always told me that the village has little to fear from the things in the wood, but whether because he kept them at bay, or because they are truly of no danger, I do not know.” She hesitates, and looks again at the Inquisitor. “In truth … I fear somewhat for my friend. Jarred was supposed to visit me two weeks ago – and had he, I would have had a strong ally against this … those … But anyway, he did not arrive, and that is unusual. He is very much a man of his word, and usually he would find a way to send word if he was delayed…”
“Anyway, he knows more of the Dimwood and its denizens than any here. Most fear the forest. If you seek him, the Valley of Snails lies almost a day’s journey away, along the forest trail to the west. My home lies in that direction too, near the eaves of the forest.” She lowers her voice and leans close. “If you travel to my home, search the floor in front of the hearth. I pray they did not discover it … a hidden place … I think they did not. You may take anything you find within to help you … to help you save me. You should find a pendant there, given to me by Jarred. If you seek, and find him, he will know it as mine.”
The guards who remain outside stand on the opposite side of the doorway to where Laithe and Jirin wait (in the confusion at the doorway, Alton slips away into the shadows, out of sight of all but the most astute observer).
The guards stand to attention, weapons sheathed but hands positioned so as to draw them at a moments notice. They occasionally glance at Jirkin and Laithe with barely concealed looks of distaste.
As the guards glance at them Jirkin says, "um... sir what is the matter?"
You heard what Jirkin just said, but you cannot hear (or even understand - it's spoken in a language you don't know) the conversation between Keildrithe and Gosia.
As the guards glance at them Jirkin says, "um... sir what is the matter?"The guards who remain outside stand on the opposite side of the doorway to where Laithe and Jirin wait (in the confusion at the doorway, Alton slips away into the shadows, out of sight of all but the most astute observer).
The guards stand to attention, weapons sheathed but hands positioned so as to draw them at a moments notice. They occasionally glance at Jirkin and Laithe with barely concealed looks of distaste.
One of the guards mutters "breed" half under his breath. You think you hear the other whisper something about "sorcerers" but you can't be sure.
One of the guards mutters "breed" half under his breath. You think you hear the other whisper something about "sorcerers" but you can't be sure.
Three that you can see. The two Atuscans who accompanied the Inquisitor and the tall Thuringian still lurks nearby.
The soldier in the watchtower also appears to still be there.
One of the guards mutters "breed" half under his breath. You think you hear the other whisper something about "sorcerers" but you can't be sure.As the guards glance at them Jirkin says, "um... sir what is the matter?"The guards who remain outside stand on the opposite side of the doorway to where Laithe and Jirin wait (in the confusion at the doorway, Alton slips away into the shadows, out of sight of all but the most astute observer).
The guards stand to attention, weapons sheathed but hands positioned so as to draw them at a moments notice. They occasionally glance at Jirkin and Laithe with barely concealed looks of distaste.
Jirkin closes his eyes trying to hold his anger in, saying nothing Jirkin opens his eyes claming his anger staring at the guard that replied to him in a mutter. "I see." Jirkin says
She lowers her voice and leans close. “If you travel to my home, search the floor in front of the hearth. I pray they did not discover it … a hidden place … I think they did not. You may take anything you find within to help you … to help you save me. You should find a pendant there, given to me by Jarred. If you seek, and find him, he will know it as mine.”
"Thank you for your trust, lady" Keildrithe murmurs back. "You have my word that I shall do everything in my power to liberate you... even if I should die trying."
I can’t imagine that any of us would have done this … maybe, I don’t know. They say I sacrificed them, to the gods, or to demons – it’s all the same to the Artonites – but of course I did not!”
"Hmmm... so, to your knowledge, lady, all of those who have disappeared were young girls... Gosia, you hesitated when I asked you to think of who might be responsible for the deaths and disappearances... what other thought crossed your mind, that has remained unspoken?"
Still kneeling, Keildrithe hangs his head low in silence for a few moments before looking straight into Gosia's eyes, a pained expression in his own...
"Brave lady, I wish not to ask you this, but feel I must... how badly have your captors mistreated you? Can you hold for another week?"
“I hesitate to speak the words Keildrithe, but I have wondered … whilst my initial thoughts were that some fell creatures from the Dimwood must have done these terrible deeds … could it be that a man – or perhaps a woman – was truly responsible? Perhaps even one of us? Someone from the village?” She stops, her eyes downcast and tear filled. “The Inquisitor falsely accuses me, but could it be he is – somewhat – on the right track?”
Gosia gives out a small sigh. “They have not treated me kindly. They have hurt me, but not so badly as they might have I suppose.” She gives a faint half smile. “Perhaps they fear me cursing them or some such. I can hold out for a week now that I have hope. Still … the Inquisitor said that I am to be kept by the constables now, I assume I will not be taken back to the Baron’s dungeons. I hope … perhaps there is someone who could help soothe my injuries, or check from time to time that I am alright while I am awaiting you…”
She looks up at you with hope.
“I hesitate to speak the words Keildrithe, but I have wondered … whilst my initial thoughts were that some fell creatures from the Dimwood must have done these terrible deeds … could it be that a man – or perhaps a woman – was truly responsible? Perhaps even one of us? Someone from the village?” She stops, her eyes downcast and tear filled. “The Inquisitor falsely accuses me, but could it be he is – somewhat – on the right track?”
Gosia gives out a small sigh. “They have not treated me kindly. They have hurt me, but not so badly as they might have I suppose.” She gives a faint half smile. “Perhaps they fear me cursing them or some such. I can hold out for a week now that I have hope. Still … the Inquisitor said that I am to be kept by the constables now, I assume I will not be taken back to the Baron’s dungeons. I hope … perhaps there is someone who could help soothe my injuries, or check from time to time that I am alright while I am awaiting you…”
She looks up at you with hope.
"Lady, is there anyone in the community that you trust would care for your wellbeing, and who would be seen as a threat or pariah by the Artonites? If there is, I shall call upon them... if not, then I shall seek the counsel of some of our elders -- surely, they will send someone to look after you. In the meantime, my companions and I shall seek out this Jarred Hale you speak of... and if there be any specific persons or groups in Barg that you suspect of foul deeds, now would be the time to identify them..."
Keildrithe pauses, giving her an instant to reply.
Then, he slowly rises from his knees, still looking lady Gosia in the eyes. He leans closer to her for an instant, whispering forcefully: "may Kord's might shield you from unwanted attention, and may he split the skull of any who dare lay hands on you. I admire your strength, lady. Do not lose faith, for we shall not fail you."
For a moment, Keildrithe stares at his feet, collecting his thoughts as he prepares to turn and question the Inquisitor.
“Perhaps you could speak to Dras Relyin, he has some respect amongst the community. He could find someone to help.
“As for who in this town … I do not know. Someone brutal. Perhaps one of the Baron’s soldiers? Perhaps the priest? I don’t know … perhaps I am seeing brutality where it does not truly exist, given what has happened to me…”
“I trust you Keildrithe. I will not lose faith.”
As the woman smiles at you, you notice how pretty she is behind the bruises and dishevelled hair. It is difficult to say how old she is. Anywhere between her late twenties and late thirties would be your guess, but her recent treatment has probably aged her, and between that and her probably sidhe heritage, it is hard to pinpoint her age.
"Pious Inquisitor Vorn," asks Keildrithe as he wheels around to face the cleric, "please believe my sincerity when I state that it is not insolence that made me challenge Padre Jalun in the square today. The people of Barg, whether Atuskan, Thuringian, or Karandic -- myself included -- have shown naught but the deepest respect for the all-powerful Arton, whose might is recognized and undisputed across the lands of the empire. But I fear that burning citizens of any heritage is detrimental to the fabric of the community, and can only sow the seeds of dissent in the hearts of the oppressed. I wish to spare Barg from dissent. I want to ensure that its peoples know peace and mutual respect. To bring the true murderers to justice... as I believe Arton would wish it. I do not dream of embarassing you, those you follow, or those you lead... and I understand that errors happen. My quest will be Arton's quest... My success will be Arton's success... would you not agree, peerless Inquisitor?"
Keildrithe gazes at the Inquisitor, careful not to challenge him by holding his stare for too long. When he believes his words have had time to sink in, he continues:
"In the spirit of cooperation and common interest, may I ask what charges have been laid against Gosia Troskie, and what incriminating evidence has been produced to determine her guilt? A complete list of the deceased and disappeared, and detailed observations concerning the location and state of their remains, and of signs or tracks found near those remains, also would be helpful..."
Keildrithe kneels with head bowed before the Inquisitor. "Be a part of the success of this investigation, Inquisitor... I beg you... And I give thanks again for the foresight, mercy and wisdom you have shown this day..."
Vorn continues to look at you, face inscrutable as usual, for long after you stop speaking.
Finally he speaks. “Yes, I have been merciful. And I will help with your … investigation. Constable Farbridge has the details you ask for. Constable?” It is difficult to tell how the Inquisitor has taken your words, although he appears to be as helpful as could be expected at this stage.
The uniformed man behind the desk looks up quickly, and glances, somewhat nervously, at the Inquisitor.
“Ah, yes, that’s right your grace,” he says. “Well, after the last girl, Feile Nass, was found absent from her bed last Marketday morning – a little past a week ago – her parents organised a search party to seek her out. She was the fourth to go missing in the last moon or so, and her folks rightly feared for her.
“Well, they’d been some talk around the village of the girls being taken by something from the Dimwood,” he makes a hurried star-sign, “so early morning a mob set off along the path past the Devil’s Table. It was in the meadow nearby to Miss Troskie’s cottage that they came across the body of the girl, covered in cuts and scratches and blood – dead.
“When we returned to investigate, we noticed that the earth had been recently turned not far from where Feile was found, and a bit of digging uncovered two unhallowed graves, with bodies in em. Well, they were badly rotted, had been there a couple weeks, but they were clearly young girls, and we identified them as Merid Ritewater and Magda Childerbane, the first two missing. We’ve still not found the other, Hilde Tanos.
“Well, after much discussion, it was determined that Miss Troskie was a suspect, as the bodies were found so close to her cottage, and it is an open secret in the village that she is fey, and a practitioner of sorcery and herb lore, and that she worships the Karandic gods.
“Our Padre knew that the Inquisitor was in the region, and bid him come up to Barg to investigate the witch.” He glances nervously at Vorn, perhaps unsure whether he should be speaking for the man, but Vorn waves impatiently for him to continue.
“Well, much evidence of witchcraft, and worship of false gods – worship that can involve human sacrifice! – was found in her cottage, and that alone would be enough to condemn her to prison or hanging. Much further evidence was provided by folk of the village, of witchcraft and curses, and of her trying to corrupt the young folk of the village by searching for one or more to apprentice. Also, it was found that Feile and some of the others had spent much time recently in her company.
“The Baron and, um, the Inquisitor decreed that no creature from the forests would dare – or be able to - enter the village or locked farmhouses and take the girls from their beds. So, on questioning, Miss Troskie could provide no evidence that she had not taken and killed the girls…”
“And,” the Inquisitor interjects, “after much prayer to Arton, it was revealed to me that Troskie was guilty. She was tried, found guilty, and sentenced, according to the laws of the Empire and the laws of the Church. In my generosity I have granted you a chance to search for further evidence, and I suggest you go seek it, rather than questioning the evidence that has already been collected. The interview is at an end. Yes, you may send someone to soothe the wounds the woman sustained in resisting the constables’ arrest, and then, Constable, return her to her cell.”
The Inquisitor stands aside from the door, clearly inviting Troy and Keildrithe to leave.
Jirkin makes a listen check to see if he can hear the conversation going on inside
Jirkin stomps on foot on the ground( because he has never learned any healing spells, and also of why Gosia was sentenced "Guilty." "They call themselves... oh nevermind!"
He speaks soothingly to her in Karandic "Rest easy, lady. I will do my best to visit over the next few days and continue your treatment, if time and the guards permit. Have faith that we will get you out of this, by whatever necessary".