"Aye, finger cutting would definitely be torture, and doubtful it would work. At least, we could never trust the information revealed in such a way, and all we would end up doing is stating our own souls," Arkan explains to Colwyn, and anyone else interested in such a method of interrogation, the inherent flaw in the torturers arts.

"Magic can offer a solution, but I am not skilled in the enchanters arts." he adds ruefully.

It would seem there is little else but to await the trial and then return to Bard's Gate, though if there are two more of the cultists still alive out there they can be tracked.

"Old woman, do you know for sure how many of these masons entered the town?" Arkan queries Anja.

"Our thanks go with you, Mister Gabbins." Anja amends, and smiles at Bilfro's somewhat creative genuflection, "It is a pleasure to meet such a courteous and handsome gentleman.  You will always be an honoured guest in our city."  She essays a stiff-kneed courtsey of her own, albeit not so deeply as Bilfro.

Then she turns her attention to the other guests, "To the best of my knowledge, all of these dogs have been accounted for.  At least the ones who entered the city have.  If they had others in their pack, I was unaware of it, and have not seen them."

"That's right Anja." one of the uniformed guards interrupts.  "I was at the gate when they arrived.  That's all of them.  And weren't no more strangers came through until this giant and his friends got here today."

Anja opens her mouth to say something further, but closes it again as one of the palace walls collapses with a roaring sound, and a shower of sparks and blowing embers.  Princess Nata shrieks, and clutches a pieace of Anja's dress, which she uses to cover her eyes.

Eilieen winces as the palace collapses.  Well...it was ugly, in any case.  Maybe they can make a proper one now.  "I see your point, Erista.  I had hoped you would have a way to befuddle them into confessing something - prick their pride, wound their ego, get them talking, etc."  A sigh follows.  "Ah, well."

Her lips purse.  "We should search them.  Perhaps one of them carries something that might give us a clue."

Wound their ego ?  Aarnr's not sure which bit that is, but he's game to keep hacking away until he locates it !

Though it seems that magic has failed them and more physical means of persuasion are not allowed today.  The priests brow furrows in consternation.  He hadn't wanted to do this, but ...

"Come morrow's dawn, I might demand that Bowbe forces every elfin word that falls from the lips of these froward, malmsy-nosed wagtails be the froggin' truth."

Another bit of the palace falls in.  Aarnr doesn't even blink.

"If the cullionly, ill-breeding mammets live so fobbin' long !" he growls.

Colwyn listens with some interest to the discussion.  It appears that the rumours of magic to make a man speak the truth, even when he doesn't want to, may have had a grain of truth in them.  Perhaps Bilfro could work such sorceries?

He stares at Bilfro briefly as the mage walks away, and wonders if it's worth asking him about it.  And then another thought bites his rump, so to speak...

"'ere.  Wasn't ol' Bilfro serposed ter be keepin' a eye on poor Ozzy?"

With another out-of-this-world-and-the-next flourish, Bilfro retreats with one last wave to the princess, only to leap and take off somewhat more rapidly as the building collapses nearby.

The sooner the cart is under secure guard again, the better - far better than being in this place of death and destruction.

Thus the pace picks up even more and soon a figure is seen trotting at near sprint through the village town city capital towards the open gates and the road beyond.

Anja watches as Bilfro walks away, then turns, still holding the King and the Princess close.  "Guards!  Search the prisoners, and all their dead allies too, and turn all their possessions over to these heroes for study."

"Then take those who still live to Dagor's house and tell him to lock them in his back room.  Keep them there until sunrise, then bring them back here."  She looks at the adventurers and explains, "Dagor has a room inside his house which has walls of stone, a door of good oak, and a lock of iron.  It will serve as a dungeon, of sorts.  In the morning they will be tried as cultists of Orcus.  Then we will hear the truth."

"Donul, Jesper, Ratik and... Gert."  She indicates four of the villagers.  "Drag the dead masons outside the gate and under the trees... aye, and Currinder with them.  No graves for the likes of them, nor decent pyre neither.  Let the beasts of the wood eat their flesh and crack their bones."

There is a stirring in the crowd, as people move to follow her instructions.  For a mere governess, she seems to exercise considerable authority...

Arkan flinches as the 'palace' collapses, his nerves still on edge after the battle. He recovers quickly though, and focuses on the information being discussed.

"If there were more cultists, and they did not come here, it's possible they may yet be in Bard's Gate. We should return in case they engage in more mischief," he says to his companions in a low voice.

This assumes ofcourse, there were any more of these masons remaining alive, Arkan is not so sure about that.

As Anja gives out commands Arkan is pleased to hear the belongings of the dead masons will be turned over to them. There would not really be any need to remain here too long then, they could take the belongings as well as a head or two from the dead ones back to Bard's Gate as proof.

Seeing Bilfro move towards the gate he indicates to the old man to wait. "We really should remain together. Colwyn, perhaps you can tell Bilfro to wait for a while until we are finished here?." 

Aarnr doesn't like the sound of 'study', but thoroughly approves of the roughshod disposal of the remains of their dead, and considers that the throwing of the surviving cultists into the cell has promise (though he'd prefer it was a dankish pit, even better if it measured but six foot long by three foot wide for each of them).

"Mayhap the puking, weather-bitten knaves will try to froggin' escape !" the priest suggests hopefully.  "We must lie in wait for them ..."

He's certain that any attempt on their part to escape the certain death that awaits them after they finish up with this trial would be reason enough to cut them down.

Perhaps if he left the door open for them ...

Oh, so they're heroes now.

That's good.  Or so, Eilieen thinks.  It means they must have done SOMETHING correct here, rather than just getting lucky with murderous impulses.

Or maybe that's all it was.

She shuffles away further from the collapsing palace, feeling awkward.  Arkan poses an interesting idea: return to Bard's Gate in search of more cultists.  That would shift them away from their ultimate goal, but it might be a good idea...

"Agreed, Arkan.  I think checking the possessions would be a good start.  It MIGHT tell us more.  And they might spill information in the trial, in the hope it would spare them their rightful fate."  She glances toward Colwyn and Erista.  "The two of you are our best bet for searching their belongings for clues," Eilieen notes, "though if there are any questions about their symbols or amulets, best inquire of me."

As for Aarnr's plan...

"A fine idea, Aarnr," Eilieen assures him.  "If only there were one of us with the strength of body to remain awake through the night..."  But the subterfuge embarrasses her - it's not her way - and the priestess sighs.  "I will take a watch upon this gaol myself," she adds.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:10, Tue 25 July 2017.

"The thing's bein', see, as 'e's serposed ter be guardin' the cart, an' our mate, Ozzy." Colwyn explains patiently, "An' I's not reckonin' as 'ow 'e should be leavin' them alone.  Wasn't yer not 'earin' what the ol' granny were sayin' 'bout beasts wanderin' roun' out there an' eatin' flesh an' bone?"

"So I's sayin' ter let 'im get back ter it."

The bodies and the prisoners, meanwhile, are searched (a procedure which includes not a few "accidental" kicks which, coincidentally, are not inflicted on anybody who isn't alive), and their belongings are laid before Anja, spread out upon a hastily spread cloak...

A half dozen knives of various designs, an equal number of purses, of varying degrees of fullness, an iron torc, and assorted leather wrist bands.  Separate from the rest are a talisman of Orcus, a much finer (and fatter) purse, an ebony hilted dagger, and a folded piece of parchment bearing a broken seal...

The knives and dagger are, of course, too small to be useful, and though he's now used to the devious and cunning ways of city folk, Aarnr is still slow to pick up on the import of a full pouch of coin, being more inclined to render services that appeal to him, not for shiny metal discs.

Likewise the parchment can't possibly be of any interest ... but the talisman of the hated demon-god Orcus is but further proof, not that it is needed, of the depravity of these masons.

Indeed, the matter of most concern is Colwyn's reminder that wild beasts roam the wilds ... Aarnr fears that he may have to leave the watching of the prisoners and the slaying of those who try to escape to Eileen, while he assists Bilfro (the madman might be gods-blessed, but is scarcely reliable) else further indignities might be inflicted upon poor Ozzie's corpse !

Behind Anja, the ruin formerly known as "palace" continues to burn.  The roof and two walls are gone, now mere heaps of burning wood and straw, with only a few smouldering pillars to show where the collapsed structures once were.  The remaining two walls  still stand, though aflame, and probably won't last much longer.  The same probably applies to the furniture and other contents of the building.

The dirt floor, however, looks largely intact.

The corpses of the masons, as well as that of Currinder, are unceremoniously dragged into a heap, ready for disposal, while the prisoners are roused and dragged to their feet with their hands bound.  Nooses are placed around their necks, and a guard holds the trailing end of each.

Colwyn, meanwhile, is looking through the loot... er... evidence.  "The coins is all lookin' good enough, an' all else too.  But the parchment's 'avin' writin' what I can't make out.  Like as not a furrin script.  Or a secret cypher."

Arkan glances with interest at the belongings of the cultists, especially the talisman, the dagger and the parchment.

As Colwyn looks at the document Arkan moves over to him and says, "Let me take a look, perhaps I may be able to decipher it." 

---

"We should froggin' burn it," Aarnr suggests most reasonably, glaring at the parchment.  Indeed, there's s handy fire raging close by.

Arkan's offer is brave, if foolhardy ... the priest tightens his grip on his sword, watching for any sign that the horrific evil undoubtedly contained upon the paper have corrupted the young man ...

"Mark that for melting," Eilieen mutters at the sight of the talisman.  "Then burying, after we sear the unholy taint from the metal."  She pokes about the mess of the items for a moment, then lets out a sigh.  "I hope that parchment gives you some clue, Arkan - no, Aarnr, we do not burn it before we know what it says - because I doubt we shall find aught from these other things."

Pursing her lips, she eyes them with some distaste.  "Erista?  Can you sense magic upon these?  Oh, I'll do it myself."  A wave of the hand follows.  "Zadastha - open my eyes to the life-light of the world," the priestess intones.

OOC - So, Detect Magic.  :)

OOC: Could have sworn I posted here the other day.  I guess not.  :(

Colwyn hands the document to Arkan with a shake of his head, "I isn't makin' 'ead nor tail of it.  Maybe as you'll be 'avin' more luck."

The villages take hold of two of the bodies, and start to drag them towards the gate...

Arkan takes the document from Colwyn and peruses it with a frown, lips moving as he murmurs and traces the writing with a gloved finger.

Finally he looks up and says, "The symbols marked here are in a tongue I best not utter here, but the words they form are unknown to me. I cannot decipher them, I doubt few outside of this black cult could." He nods his heads towards the bodies of the masons as they are dragged towards the gates by the villagers.

"Still, we should take this as evidence back to Bard's Gate. Perhaps a sage there could decipher it for us," Arkan adds, rolling up the parchment.

That the words on the parchment are beyond comprehension is of no surprise to Aarnr, for he finds that ever to be true.  Nor do the prisoners trouble him overmuch, for they are dead (but for the middling matter of their trial) but do not know it yet.

But like a dog with a bone, the priest continues to worry at the concern that ... he tries to remember the thing called a number that Colwyn uttered ... that two of them have escaped retribution, or else ...

"Belike the last of these malmsy, goat-bearded death-tokens were so deformed or vile that they dared not show their pestilent faces in this city," Aarnr postulates.  "But they may lurk beyond these ..." he'll be charitable "... walls, waiting their fellow toad-knockers."  Just as he and Fergus did for not entirely dissimilar reasons.

"Even with doughty Bilfro guarding the cart, they may be moved to steal Ozzie's corpse !"  Such a thing is not to be countenanced.  "If ye stand vigil here, I will join the madman without and lay in wait."

The prisoners are both led away, like leashed dogs.  One of them opens his mouth to speak, and receives a clip round the ear for his trouble.

The boy, King Arranol, breaks away from Anja to watch the men being escorted to the north end of the village and, presumably, to the house of Dagor, which is to serve as a temporary gaol.  "Will we have a stoning tomorrow Anja?" he enquires.

"That all depends on what the gods, and the magistrates, have to say about it." the woman replies.

Colwyn, meanwhile, returns his attention to the evidence.  He picks out a gold coin and scrutinises it carefully.  "Some of these is 'avin' Orcus's sign on them.  Not all, mind, jus' a few.  Might be bein' bad luck ter be keepin' them."

At a slow but steady flat-out sprint, Bilfro happily with great sorrow left the capital-that-was behind, destined for things untold as it were.  First of said things would be the cart, with their dearly departed - but hopefully still very much present - companion of small stature yet also large.

Spotting the cart in the distance, the pace slows to a thoughtful fast run.  Tempting as it is, no glance is thrown back towards the pyre from fire left behind most dire.

With the approval of whatever powers might be watching over her, Bilfro hopes the young princess will be well taken care of.  Perhaps one day she will get to hear another tale - as well as the ending of the one started.

"Nothing magical," Eilieen confirms with a small sigh.  She studies Anja curiously for a long moment, then shrugs.  "Upon that lot, anyway.  By all means, Aarnr, see to thy brother's body.  Let it not be disturbed; we shall join you, soon enough."

Aarnr, not Oswald.

That said, she pushes herself to her feet.  "As for Orcus' coins, I would have them melted.  Purified.  Such a symbol can bring the worst possible attention.  The papers, Arkan?  Keep them - tomorrow I shall pray to Zadastha for guidance; She will open their meaning to me.  Should they not be a cipher, that is."

Her brow furrows.  "Do others have aught of an idea?  I find myself at a loss, at present."

OOC - Yay, Comprehend Languages...

"The name of Bowbe will force the truth from the poisonous, vile-standin' blind-worms," Aarnr is confident that come the trial his demand of his god will be met.  However ...

"Thou might want to speak quickly when thou put thy questions to these currish, muddy-mettled basket-cockles," the priest informs Anja, "the god is froggin' lackin' in patience !"

That problem solved to his complete satisfaction, Aarnr shoulders his greatsword and strides after Bilfro, his gait purposeful, but lacking the manic urgency of the madman, at least for the moment.

OOC: Aarnr and Bilfro, a stolen cart and oxen and a dead Halfling Bard ... what could possibly go wrong ?!!

Anja thanks those who offer further aid, then adds, "This city has magistrates, though they have not seen much activity since Currinder rose to power some three or four years since.  He preferred other means of reaching the truth, rather than an honest trial before learned men."

"I shall speak to them, and they will conduct the trial in the morning, using whatever means they deem appropriate."

Aarnr strides towards the gate, still towering over everybody else in the village.  Before too long, he steps out of Crossroad, and the place suddenly seems (at least to those still in the village) to be somewhat less crowded.  Looking about, he spots Bilfro hurrying towards the cart, which stands beneath the eaves of the forest, to the east of the ramshackle cluster of hovels.

"It seems likely that they will see the wisdom of using magic, or any other means at their disposal, to discover the truth." Anja says, with a satisfied nod.

Arkan nods at Eileen and tucks the parchment into his belt. "Good idea, let me know when you ready to unlock their meaning."

Listening to Anja, Arkan realizes they have likely accomplished all they could given the circumstances. Perhaps it would be time to leave while they were still in the citizen's good graces...