The sun is just dipping below the forest, fading orange catching the low ripples on the lake.

Most of the fishing boats are in now, and very few people move along the road.

The main road forks and goes around DuckTown's low wooden walls.  Judging by the marks and debris, the host you were following went that way.

A smaller road goes through a heavy wooden door into DuckTown, which is guarded by a pair of men armed with crude spears.

Along the way, you note that most of the homes have an array of carved gourds set beside their doors.  Faces, dark and cruel, etched into the fronts of the vegetables to stare at passers by.

The guards at the gate stop you bruskly, but not cruelly and ask your business.

It's about this time that you see Ciryl walking toward you.

In reply to GM (msg # 1):

"We're guardsmen, protecting his wares," Brennan nods in Ciryl's direction. "Were delayed by bandits but that problem has been...sorted. You guys know of a bounty on a guy named Keller, incidentally?"

"How was business?" Brennan asks quietly when Ciryl approaches. "Ours is concluded."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 2):

"Southerner are you?" one man says with a wrinkle of his nose.

Without asking, he starts poking into your saddlebags.

"What's the need for guards 'round here?" asks the other, fingers tight on his weapon.  "This is a nice town, you hear?"

In reply to GM (msg # 3):

"This town is very lovely," Brennan agrees. "But the roads are less friendly. We were assailed twice in the last day alone."

He smiles good-naturedly.

"It's the same as the reason you post guards at the gates, right? If there was no reason for protection outside, you wouldn't need to be there. And our friend here wouldn't need us. Just the way of the world."

Brennan shrugs.

"I guess we could strike camp out here, if your town doesn't want the money of travelers looking for a roof and a hearth before morning..."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:17, Mon 30 Oct 2017.

Once Ciryl gets in earshot he nods to Brennan, mostly ignoring the guards, "I was quite productive.  You seem less so," he addresses Brennan, "I was all ready to go find what you'd gotten yourselves caught up in," he adjusts the bag over his shoulder.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 5):

"I found what I was looking for," Brennan says, patting one of his belt pouches. "It was worth the trip. But we still don't know who Keller's patron was."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 6):

The guards cast some dirty looks, but find no reason to detain you further.

In reply to GM (msg # 7):

Brennan will cheerfully lead the group into the town and begin to look around, particularly for the tavern the guide had mentioned.

OOC: (which Brennan remembers but his poor controller sadly does not).
This message was last edited by the player at 18:46, Mon 30 Oct 2017.

"That's unfortunate, might've liked to talk to him.  I haven't had any luck finding lodgings, town's having a bit of a crisis. What exactly did you find?" he says as he follows along with Brennan's lead.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 9):

I'll see what I can do for lodging.  I can't guarantee that it will be NICE persay.
  But a pretty smile and a lute can generally get you what you want.

Titus strikes off in search of a bar/restaurant/inn for the town.  He is intentionally flashy and flourishy to get the townsfolk's attention, with any luck he'll have a retinue in short order.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 9):

"Trouble."

Brennan sighs wearily.

"They had a handful of pennies, some salted fish, and this."

He produces a metal disc, which has a strange insignia etched upon it and a hole punched through it.

"Either goes to something or is incomplete. Maybe both. Keller probably new more about the tattoos than he let on, and we know his patron is here in Ducktown. We need to find them and learn more about what they got themselves into."

Brennan glances over his shoulder to see if the boys had tagged along and grumbles.

"I had planned on giving them back all of the money Keller had stashed away and wasn't paying them, provided they agreed to make themselves useful. It's disappointing to see that they haven't got the courage or inclination to take risks, despite being aspiring highwaymen and thieves."

"You're surprised highwaymen are cowards?  Really?" Ciryl looks at Brennan sideways, smirking, "What exactly did the scrawl on the lads' arms say?  And do you recognize what's on your odd coin there?  I can tell you this much, your demonic cult is abducting young women, and the town's none too welcoming as a result."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 12):


Brennan and Titus find the town clean, calm, and quietly unwelcoming.

The townsfolk are mostly either headed toward their homes to sleep, closing down their various shops, or heading to the taverns to eat and drink.

You find it easy to follow the crowd and locate the place your guide called the Cask and Flagon.  It is a large wooden-roofed building with a small replica of its namesake hanging above the doorway.

The windows are oiled hides and allow a warm glow to flow out as the people flow in.

It is large and bustling, but surprisingly calm.  People drink and talk but there is nothing boisterous about this tavern.

Titus easily makes the most noise; and knows enough about reading crowds to pick low haunting melodies instead of rousing ballads.

He has a handful or so sitting around him in short order, though you find people are slow to open up to strangers, especially "Southerners" which they quickly identify Titus and Brennan to be.

In reply to GM (msg # 13):

Titus moves up to the barkeep and his lips quirk upward in a small smile.  He speaks quietly his voice neutral and makes some eye contact but doesn't let it linger.  Though the natural tenor of his voice still carries long and clear.

Afternoon.  I don't suppose you'd be willing to trade a night of music and entertainment for a roof over our heads and a few warm meals would you?  We are five... plus one mule.

You have quite a crowd here, and its been a good while since I've had an audience and any food other than hard rations or what we have hunted ourselves.

He puts the lute on the bar next to him.

Name's Titus by the way.  Whats yours?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:16, Tue 31 Oct 2017.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 14):

The tavern seems to be run by a large family, all the children employed in serving, cleaning, and running errands.

Titus locates the owner, a dour man with a bright red nose.

The man smiles, showing off mostly gum.

"New music is always welcome, and I hear you work for the Alchemist come through?"

He looks your crew over.

"No place to put up your animals, you'll have to figure that bit out elsewhere.  I could let you all kip here for the night.  You give us your songs, the alchemist can give me something for the rash on my arse, the rest can give a silver."

In reply to GM (msg # 15):

"For a silver, I'd hope to have the animals boarded quite handsomely," Brennan says, putting a piece of silver on the bartop and pressing it down with an index finger. "Off-site would be fine, of course. Suggestions welcome. In exchange, in addition to the silver I'd be willing to write, review, or translate any documents, contracts, or deeds you might have or need. You'd be amazed what official paperwork can do for you -- it's worth much more than a silver, I assure you."

Negotiate (2x10, 2x2)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:11, Tue 31 Oct 2017.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 16):

The man shrugs.  His smile never wavers but the mirth behind it fades.

"Like I said, I got nowhere to put the animals.  Might try the stables with the white feather above them."

He looks at the silver piece.

"A silver is a silver, I can't read more than a letter or two, but I know that much."

He sighs.

"If it's work with quill you're looking for, best talk to the Guildmaster or Governor."

"I can't much remedy your rash without having a look at it.  Unless you'd like to drop trow here, I suppose we should go to a private room so I can pay for my lodgings?" Ciryl says, looking to Brennan with a shrug.

In reply to GM (msg # 17):

Brennan sighs, looks around the crowded tavern, and decides to overpay the man since he didn't seem inclined to budge despite a solid effort.

"Thank you," he says, plucking up the silver and giving it to the man. "We'll look into that."

Maybe Titus will collect tips.

After securing lodging, he turns to Deev and Bryce.

"You're at liberty for the night, but keep your wits about you. This place feels all kinds of strange."

He heads back toward the door.

"I'll secure the animals and see about...quill work. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and especially for any more of those tattoos."

With Cyril and Titus occupied with paying their way into a bed and Deev and Bryce likely happy to enjoy some R&R, he takes his leave to find the stable with the feather atop it.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 19):

Titus nods at Brennan and smiles back at the barkeep.

Thank you for your gracious hospitality.  I will allow you to get to tend to your business with Cyril here.

I'll be back before the dinnertime crowd. 

As Titus walks past Brennan he hears him muttering words that all... strangely... seem to rhyme with Rash.  He wanders off to do Titusy things.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:16, Tue 31 Oct 2017.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 20):

Cask and Flagon

If Ciryl agrees, the innkeep will gladly and shamelessly show off the rash on his backside.  It's nothing terribly threatening, and Ciryl is able to produce a simple ointment for it.

When he goes to collect things from his cart, Ciryl finds that it has been moved and is now parked beside a round stone building where the Master of Arms has his residence.  As promised, a man with an ugly axe protects it.

The Feather

Brennan locates the stables and is able to negotiate space for the horses for a penny.  Apparently they aren't as worried about Southern equine.

The Streets

Titus wanders out into DuckTown on his own business.

In reply to GM (msg # 21):

Titus grumps at the lack of anything in this damn town.

Ciryl looks at the barkeep's rash wherever he's willing to show it off, but upon seeing it his brows knit and he leans in for a closer look.  He prods around it experimentally and mumbles to himself, "Oh no.  Oh dear oh dear.  No sir," he mutters before standing up and looking at the man very seriously, "This is no mere rash, sir.  This is just the first stage of a very serious condition.  You're lucky I came around when I did, because I know the cure.  There is some bad news to go with that, I'm afraid.  The ointment you need, one of the ingredients is very rare, the bottle I have cost me a silver crown.  Now, I don't need it all, but the worth of the stuff is a bit more than one chip, if you want it in exchange for a single night's stay I'd be getting quite the raw deal.  Look given what I need..." Ciryl twiddles his fingers and stares into space, apparently counting in his head, "Five chips.  Discounting for the night, you give me four silver, and I'll give you the ointment, and I think I'm still coming out on the short end, but believe me, you need it.  I've never seen this disease in person, but the symptoms," Ciryl shudders emphatically, "First a rash, then scabs that give way to live rot," he trails off before seeming to come back to himself, "Please, I want you to have it, but you have to understand, this is business to me."

((8, 7, 6, 6, 6, 4, 3 & 2  3x6 bluff))
This message was last edited by the player at 18:08, Tue 31 Oct 2017.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 23):

Brennan secures the animals then walks about the town, looking for the more expensive portions and homes that might house distinguished people.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Wed 01 Nov 2017.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 24):

The Cask and Flagon

The inkeep furrows thick brows.  The color drains from his face (apart from his cherry nose).

"I... yer sure?  I KNEW it wasn't jess from sittin on my arse, damned woman!"

He quickly puts together the money Ciryl asks for.

Out And About

Titus treads much more carefully.

Brennan continues to wander, soon finding himself in a cluster of houses built of heavy logs that are far larger and nicer than most.  Each has a family crest above it, indicating some degree of royalty.

In reply to GM (msg # 25):

Brennan smiles and browses the crests, curious.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 26):

The longer Brennan browses the "nice house", the more stares he gets from large men with spears.

In reply to GM (msg # 27):

Brennan nods thoughtfully, then returns to the inn.

Ciryl nods gravely to the man, and accepting his coin makes his way as quickly as his three stepped gait will allow to his cart.  He pauses at the sight of the man with the axe once he relocates his cart, but after a curt nod he rummages around and puts together a treatment for the rash.  Before returning, however, he goes looking for Brennan, meeting him halfway back to the inn.  "Oy," he says, nudging his free hand into Brennan's chest with a loose fist which he keeps up until it's apparent he's holding something.  Once Brennan accepts he drops three silver coins into his hand, "For the night.  You might take up the innkeeper's advice in the morning too.  With the guildmaster that is, or mistress, I suppose.  Lady Rayne," he nods to punctuate the thought, "Whether she has work or not, she'd certainly be of interest to you."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 29):

Brennan looks down at this unexpected windfall incredulously, but dutifully adds the money to the party's purse.

"Thank you," he says. "I shall do just that."

He sighs wistfully.

"I don't recognize the various noble houses that populate this town, unfortunately. We won't have as much leverage as I'm used to. Perhaps Lady Rayne will change that."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

"Well if you hadn't caught on, they're not fans of southerners.  The guards at the gate were concerned of southern spies, so I'd err on the side of the north, if you expect to be courting nobles." Ciryl shrugs, clearly not interested in courting them himself.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 31):

At about this point Titus stalks up looking like a wet cat.

Fuck this town.

He mutters.

Hate this place.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 31):

"Not courting them, exactly. I just like to know what we're getting into. If this is a rebel town, we certainly don't want to linger long."

Brennan turns to Titus.

"What in the Dream's name is the matter now?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 33):

Everyone here is an asshole. 

He grumbles.

Usually if we got to a town early enough in order to drum up business for the show you put on a small kid friendly one, get them to go home and tell their parents.  So I'm out and these guys start not so subtly threatening me.  I can't get any information or news out of anyone...

and there is no shopping.

The last one is delivered as if he were directly transgressed personally.

Don't get your hopes up for getting a lot in tips.  Shit I may not even be able to get enough alcohol to get anyone drunk...
This message was last edited by the player at 18:59, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 34):

"It's not a cheerful town," Brennan shrugs. "There are kidnappings afoot, remember? Solve that, and I wager there would be tips galore."

"It is late.  Shops were closing when I came in, and you had your little detour." Cyril observes as Titus complains, "And I suspect a lot of these people can smell the southern on you.  Might be they'd like you better if you were a little more Mun and a little less Min.  Bet they'd take to you with a shine if you acted the fool," he nods sagely.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 36):

Brennan nods.

"That, too. Come, let's get the night over with so we can move onto what I hope will be a productive and profitable tomorrow."

OOC: Brennan has nothing further for this evening.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 37):

Wait kidnappings?  That makes a lot more sense.  Lets see if we can start plucking the threads of that story tonight...  Also this area would prefer more Min and less Mun than I currently even have displayed.  There will be no bawdy songs tonight.  Somber ballads and serious tales.

/ooc Titus had strode off when you were talking about it, so totally didn't hear you.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:30, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 38):

Cask and Flagon

Horses and equipment secured, you return to the drinking establishment, where Ciryl ceremoniously applies his ungent (in a back room) thus "possibly saving the life" of the innkeep.  He gratefully pays the requested monies.

Titus is able to draw a small crowd.  When it comes to songs, and as long as you don't make any moves to be alone with their kids, they are happy enough to listen.

In reply to GM (msg # 39):

Brennan keeps an eye out for any well-to-dos (or for anyone seen in Keller's neck of the woods), but otherwise has little planned for the evening beyond making sure Deev and Bryce don't ring up too much of a tab.

Ciryl seems quite at home among the crowd at the inn once his final work of the day is done.  He drinks and eats and listens to Titus's music.  He makes some casual conversation where he can, asking for news of other travelers, sharing what he's seen abroad and mostly just enjoys the evening like any other.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 41):

Titus accepts every drink that is offered him and pretends to drink them, passing them off to Deev and Bryce at every opportunity.  During this time he works his crowd trying to pump them for information about current local events.  He turns the volume up on the gossip by alternately agreeing and adding to their story or by a suspicious flat denial of the story.

Over the course of the evening he plays the crowd intentionally whipping their emotions around, those who stay the whole night would call it a draining but rewarding experience.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 42):

The Cask and Flagon

The place is bustling by the time you return from your various missions and failed attempts.

Titus is the only performer, and thus has a good number of people surrounding him at all times.  The beer is good, or at least plentiful, and the food not half bad either.

This seems to be the go-to place for the working stiffs of DuckTown, and though it is busy and somewhat loud, nobody is interested in starting trouble or getting rowdy.

Between songs Titus speaks loudly with locals, asking them pointed questions about the stories and songs they wish to hear and slowly teasing out what information he can.


Ciryl finds a knot of local tradesmen to speak with (a carpenter and a weaver).  They mostly want to talk about the huge band that marched past DuckTown a few days past.  A group of Xander's cavalry leading what they said were captured spies and infiltrators.  The weaver notes that many of them looked far too young (or old) to be spies.

Brennan keeps his eyes peeled, and eventually is rewarded.  A man wearing a fine fur cloak and a golden chain stomps in.  Judging by the reverence people at the table he joins shows, he is likely someone of import in town.  He is a wide brute of a man, with a thick beard that blends seamlessly into his scraggly hair and even hairier neck.

Deev seems more at ease than he has been, the crowd and filthy streets of DuckTown likely more akin to what he is used to.

Bryce finds some friendly locals and teaches them to place a dice game.

In reply to GM (msg # 43):

Brennan works his way over toward the table where the cloaked man is seated, trying to get close enough to overhear at least bits and pieces of their conversation without being obvious about it.

He also pays special attention to any tattoos that might exist among the patrons, and listens for any word of Lord Garr's host or the Inquisition as well.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 44):

Titus sees the fur and flashes of gold, then sees Brennan sidling up next to them.  He waits a few minutes and takes a strategic path towards the man alternately grabbing a dancing girl to twirl her around and then pass her off, hoisting a beer to cheer with one of the tables.

He arrives at Brennan's table with a flourish, spinning a girl off his arm back to the crowd and sliding a mug of beer across the table.

You look thirsty friend.  Hear anything you like tonight? 

He darts his eyes significantly towards the table next to them.

/ooc I'm going to give Brennan a few minute  to get the gist of their conversation and then head over myself.

Writing a better version that matches what happened.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:50, Thu 09 Nov 2017.

Ciryl keeps an eye on his four new companions through the night and when Brennan and Titus converge on the man in furs and gold he gives the hairy man a nod, gesturing with his drink, "Who's that fellow?" he asks the two tradesmen keeping him company.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 46):

Brennan finds space at the table near the large man in furs.

Whether he has any tattoos, Brennan cannot tell except that he has none except that he has none on his face.

His cloak, though made of rough furs, seems finely crafted.  He wears a golden chain around his neck with an iron pendant at the end.  The insignia on the pendant looks very much like the one you found in Keller's hut.

The big man is relaxing, enjoying a beer and jokes.  Those around him show clear deference, but the discussion becomes quickly ribald: primarily focusing on eligible ladies around DuckTown and their various assets.  They talk very little shop.

The big man has a deep throaty guffaw and his face goes red whenever he laughs, which is often.

Despite Brennan's discretion, one of the man's associates does notice the huntsman.

"You?" he says pointing a thumb at Brennan.  "You come in today, yes?  You're the one gave a drubbing to those brats in the outskirts?"

The big hairy man raises a thick brow in interest.

Across the hall, Ciryl talks to his new friends and probes them somewhat.

"Oh him?  That's the Hunt Master.  "Comes in here most nights to chase skirts.  Decent enough fellow."

In reply to GM (msg # 47):

"Guilty," Brennan says, flashing a plastic smile. "I did indeed come in today. On the roads a fair ways out from your fine town, the opportunity arose to demonstrate how deserving I was of life and property."

He shrugs, as if it were a routine thing.

"I suspect the ruffians in question won't be bothering anyone else for quite some time."

Given his new friend’s judgement Ciryl turns away from the Hunt Master with a smile, “Ah, yes I’m sure.  Always a good time with a man like that.” Ciryl chuckles and takes a swig of his drink,  “He must be quite concerned about the state of things in town.  I don’t mean to be crass but I hear the skirts are getting fewer in these parts.”

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 49):

The Big Table

"Seems likely," the big hairy man nods.  "Wasn't be the first time they needed a lesson in decent behavior, won't be the last."

He accepts a plate of fish from the proprietor and digs in with gusto.

"What's your story then?  You don't look a soldier to me, nor a merchant."

He chews for a moment.

"More like you're an academic?  Headed up north to the Ruins?"

A Smaller Table

"Well, if you can call them skirts," the man replies with a sad shake of his head.  "Were barely out of diapers, most of em.  How old was the last one?" he asks his companion.

"Ten," replies the other.

"Yeah, youngest yet.  Others were at least flowered, I'd say."

"Oh I heard young girls...I suppose I'm more like him than I thought.  But children, even more tragic.  No one bothered the king's cavalry about the issue when they passed did they?" Ciryl attempts to double back to the previous line of conversation.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 51):

Smaller Table

"The King?"  the man eyes Ciryl thoroughly and chooses his words with great care, like stepping gingerly through pricker bushes.

"They were Xander's forces, or had his banner at least.  They didn't tarry a moment here.  One or two ducked into the brothel, maybe, but they didn't stay."

Ciryl looks at the man with a faint, bemused smile, "I see.  Forgive me if I sound foolish, but is Xander not the King of these parts?  The guards at the gate thought I might be a spy, I'd hate to have someone else call me a traitor."

In reply to GM (msg # 52):

"I'm a bit of all three," Brennan replies good-naturedly. "Anyone traveling the roads for long stretches of time would have to be at least those former two -- you either need to be a soldier or have the means to sustain your own. The academic bit is just my own personal wrinkle to the mix, I suppose."

He swirls his beverage wistfully.

"I am indeed hoping to visit the northern ruins. I've heard such fascinating stories about them, and I'd like to see them for myself. Have you been?"

Brennan glances at the man's necklace for a moment, then casually says.

"Hopefully they won't disappoint. I hear they're all for the one, which is a nice sentiment. I'd like to think that includes young and old alike."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 53):

The Small Awkward Table

"Hmmm, ye heard?" asks one man.

"It's... not a simple subject is it?" puts int he other quickly.  "If I could ask, where have you been traveling of late?"

The Main Table

The hairy man chuckles into his fish, going beet red.

"Aye, that's true.  You've a quick tongue.  Truth be told, I cheated a bit: I spent much of my youth further north, seen many a bookworm heading to this dig or that.  You have an air about you I seen many a time."

He tosses a bone over one shoulder.

"Disappointment is always in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?  If you like dust, rocks, and old scrolls, you'll be happy enough.  Most of what's left has been picked over for years.  I never made it past LostHelm, but I hear above the mountains is where the real research is."

He makes no discernible reaction to Brennan's emphasized words.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:47, Thu 09 Nov 2017.

"It rarely is.  I've been traveling all over, south, east, west, north.  I go where there's money, and sickness. And injuries, given the times." Ciryl shrugs and looks at his drink despondently, "It's a morbid trade I admit. But please, enlighten me.  What's the state of Xander and Osmell in these parts?  I find being inoffensive to the locals far more important than being proper to the lords."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 56):

"That's kind of you, to offer such advice. Thank you," Brennan replies. He takes a moment to absorb the details of the necklace the man is wearing -- not the disc, the likes of which are in his pocket, but the chain itself. "I don't suppose you know of any other areas of interest while we're nearby?"

I'll need to get it just right to make a forgery.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 57):

Talking Politics at the Small Table

"It were never simple," the man agrees with a nod.  "And you'd do best to stay out of it.  Some folks here think it's wrong to go against King Osmell, then there's some say he abandoned us years ago."

He shrugs.

"Best to let sleeping dogs lie.  Most here probably'd say it makes no difference one way or another.  War will likely ignore us if we can help it.  Neither side has made any move to claim DuckTown.  Lord Garr to the South will like to keep his nose out of things, Lady Sheer to the North the same."

Talking Roadside Attractions at the Big Table

The big man shrugs.  "I been far north, and down past Garr's lands to the south.  Nothing I seen so nice as DuckTown."

He smiles.

"I'd tell you to stay out of the outskirts to the west of the lake, but as you're already acquainted with them, there's no worry there."

The chain is made of simple gold links.  Likely any goldsmith could make such a chain.

In reply to GM (msg # 58):

Brennan nods agreeably. "That would have been advice well-heeded."

He drinks thoughtfully for a moment, taking in the ambiance of the place.

"Y'know, it's the strangest thing," he says, keeping his voice somewhat quiet. "But I'm absolutely certain I've seen a necklace just like yours among that band of ruffians. Less guilded, of course, but still -- it's a remarkably pattern that pleases the eye. I assume their similarities mean the same gifted artisan made them -- are they perhaps here in town? I'd love to pay them my respects to their craftsmanship, and perhaps browse their wares for myself."

He grins disarmingly.

"What can I say? I appreciate a finely made trinket now and then. And, if we're being honest, who doesn't?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 59):

The Big Table

The hairy man raises one eyebrow.

"I should hope not, less that ruffian wanted a solid thumping.  This here is my badge of office.  Only the Masters and their staff are permitted to wear them."

Seeing the questioning look in Brennan's eyes he continues:

"Myself, the Guild Mistress, the Master of Coin, and the Master of Arms.  Our delegates wear them too, shouldn't be more than a dozen in all of DuckTown look like this.  If someone is making forgeries..."

"A very sensible stance," Ciryl nods to the recommendation of deference, "But you say most, and the guards seemed to have some strong opinions. Is there someone in town who's not so interested in being ignored by war?  I'd like to keep my distance."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 61):

Brennan nods as the man speaks, engrossed in the implications.

"My mistake -- I didn't realize that," he says. "Perhaps it wasn't quite so similar after all. I'd hate to bring additional trouble down on them without being absolutely certain. Might be worth looking into, however. Just to be safe."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 62):

Titus dances by managing to juggle four of the prettiest girls in the bar at once, he catches Brennan's eye and adds some extra special flourishes.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 63):

Politics Round Table

"Nobody in particular, just be careful about seemin' too eager to know people's leanings.  We made a good town here, we don't want the war to change that."

The Big Table with Big Men

"Interesting," the hairy man mutters.  "I'd tell you to talk to the Master of Arms.  If there's some whelp running around with our chain, he'll want to crack some skulls."

In reply to GM (msg # 64):

"I'll do that," Brennan nods. "When does he normally begin his day. And, er, where would I be able to find him tomorrow?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 65):

The Big Table

"Follow the guard, easy enough," he replies.  "He's always there for the changing of the guard, and to open the keep in the morning.  Just after first light."

Brennan is directed how to find the keep, which turns out to be a large building along the town wall.

In reply to GM (msg # 66):

Brennan nods his thanks, and leaves the Master of the Hunt to his cups unless the man wishes to pursue further conversation.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 67):

The main room stays busy until the fire has burned low and the torches outside have been replaced.  People leave in large groups, the Master of Hunt being one of the last, and he does not leave alone.

Finally it is only the inkeep and yourselves.  He indicates the warmest spots to sleep, and after he and his family wipe down the tables and sweep the floors, they retire to a back room.

The night passes uneventfully.  You find the floors warm if not overly comfortable.  Sometime in the night, it sprinkles lightly, making you all the more glad for your lodgings.



It is the 22nd Day of the Queen's Month

The inn does not open early, so you are allowed to sleep until the sun is well past risen.

In reply to GM (msg # 68):

Titus yawns and sits crosslegged on the bed counting the previous night's take.

I'm going to go check the market.  Deev come along with me.  Save us some breakfast.

He says in a voice that indicates its not a request.  They walk out of the inn shoulder to shoulder.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 69):

Brennan awakens looking a bit ashen-faced, and comes out of his morning meditation looking even more so. He gathers his allies together for a private powwow before anyone can leave.

"The Inquisition will reach Eastwatch soon," he murmurs to his companions. "And they have caught on to the fact that I am scrying them. I shall need to randomize my routine so they cannot predict it as easily, so as to conceal what they are really doing."

He sighs.

"Unrelated to this, I have had another vision. I intended to see the Master of Arms even before it, but now...I believe the kidnappings are actually murders. Cult-related, of course, so the murdering bit gets spread out. I've...seen one of the bodies, and I think I could find it again. But I don't know how to explain how I know to these people without getting the lot of us accused of being part of it."

Brennan frowns thoughtfully.

"They are unlikely to believe the truth about my gift of prophecy over burning a stranger at the stake. So the question is...do we tell them? Do we involve ourselves in this? Or do we away to Losthelm as we had originally planned?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

Ciryl wakes, secures his leg, wipes his face and straightens his clothes with a distinct sense of monotony, as if he's slept on the floor of this same inn before.  When Brennan collects the others he's willing to join or eavesdrop, depending on how invited he is.  "I could help with that.  Not difficult to brew a potion that compels visions in people.  Folk might be more willing to accept a stranger's concern and luck over a prophecy.  Where exactly do you think she is?  Could we conspire someone else to come across her instead of blaming visions?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 71):

"I saw a body buried in a shallow grave, covered in pine needles. In the woods not far from the town. Near enough to still see it, at least. I was atop an incline, and the village was below."

Brennan rubs his temples wearily.

"I can verify it myself before we go all in on a ruse if you think we can get out of the city and back in again on some errand or another. The guards aren't exactly accommodating though, you'll recall..."

He blinks.

"...though I bet they'd allow someone 'doing an errand for the Master of Arms' past rather freely. Shall we try it?"

"Is it common practice for..." Ciryl looks over his shoulder to make sure no one else is paying the conversation much attention, "demon cults to bury their sacrifices in sight of their homes?  Do you have any idea specifically what is afoot with the scrawl on those boys' arms and virgin sacrifices, or is this just run of the mill demon-dealing?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 73):

Titus sits crosslegged on the bed listening in a very child like pose, hands holding ankles and rocking back and forth.  He nods as Brennan speaks.

Would you need to be there?  Or could Deev and I go?  Nobody would know if it were us. 

He nods towards Ciryl

Don't suppose you have any visions or suspicions of whose at fault do you?  So far what do we know about this situation?

/ooc just doing this so we can get all people on the same page IC, but if anyone has a better grip on it than me a quick summary wouldn't be horrible.  My head has been spinning with the holidays work and getting ready for travel.

"Don't make a habit of having visions, no.  Just know virgin girls have gone missing, children.  You're the ones that said there's a demon cult afoot, and he's the one," Ciryl gestures at Brennan, "Found that coin or badge or whatsit, same as the Guild Mistress and Master of the Hunt's. Sign of office, I suppose.  That's why I'd like to know what exactly was written on those boy's arms and if there's anything virgin sacrifices tend to mean for demonspeakers.  That's your expertise, by the sound of you," he looks expectantly at Brennan.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 75):

"I'm a prophet and a scholar. It's my business to be an expert in as many things as is practical," Brennan shrugs, not exactly denying the merchant's accusation.

"The tattoos are words. Part of an ancient summoning ritual, but incomplete. I'm not aware of any enclave that does full-blown kidnapping and sacrifices and shallow graves, no. Garners far too much attention, and it's wasteful when all they need is a little blood."

He clears his throat.

"But these people we're dealing with here are unlikely to be a typical enclave. They recruit imbeciles. They brazenly tattoo ritual language, in Fel, on their limbs. They do not fear the Inquisition, likely because they are located so far from its usual reach. They are not concerned with subtly. This makes them intriguing...and sloppy."

Brennan glances at Titus.

"Of course you and Deev could most easily reach the place I saw, but you mentioned having other errands. Something we can do in your stead? I do have a badge of authority in my possession -- at least, until I bring the matter before the Master of Arms like the concerned citizen I am."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:10, Tue 28 Nov 2017.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 76):

Was just gonna do a bit of shopping and exploring.  Never know what you can come across in these towns.  We can breeze by the market on our way out of town.

He says with a smile.

Might be time for Lord Fastbender to acquire a new artifact of power.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 77):

Brennan nods thoughtfully.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 78):

Do you know what the writing on the arm is a ritual to summon?  Is it something specific?  Does it work like that?  A circle for every demon sorta thing?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 79):

"If you know the true name of...whatever you're summoning...that's generally enough. This particular ritual may require a particular circle, as I believe it is an attempt to summon a particularly ancient being. But I'm not certain yet. We need more information first."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 80):

A particular circle to summon a particularly ancient being sounds... horrible.  Particularly ancient beings to be powerful.  Got a name?  Maybe I've heard of him.  I don't like whats going on in this town at all.

Hey you know more of your shapes than I.  Can you figure out based on how much you've seen how many would be expected to complete the circle?  I assume that the bits of text were different for each.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 81):

"That's the thing," Brennan says, shaking his head. "They all said the same thing. It's possible they didn't know what it said and just thought it looked cool. You saw Keller and his goons -- idiots. Some charlatan may be running the enclave here, if you can even call it that."

He looks thoughtful.

"In which case...our options expand significantly."

"The boy you caught said Keller made them get it, he probably didn't know what it was and took it as his own brand.  Odds seem pretty even Keller's employer had a better idea what it was for, but we still don't know who that is, exactly."  He stretches his back, "Should work with what we know first.  Find the body, maybe there'll be some detail to it.  If not, then one of the four who deal with those badges of office has some connection and we have to ferret out who.  I'll be at the market, have some business to take care of before I open shop anyway.  I'll see if anything about Lady LeRayne comes up."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 83):

Deev watches you wide-eyed.

In reply to Deev (msg # 84):

"Three, likely. Unless the Master of the Hunt has an excellent poker face, we can rule him out as a mastermind on this. I used language from the tattoos in our conversation and he didn't even blink. So if he IS Keller's patron, he's as clueless as Keller was as to the sign's meaning."

Brennan sighs.

"Ok, I'll go talk to the Master of Arms. Cyril...I don't trust this town. You should take Bryce with you -- he'll be particularly useful if you come across any signs or symbols like the tattoo. Titus, you and Deev go to this precise spot (Brennan describes a location in the surrounding forest precisely, including the position of the body relative to the town's palisade and its gate). Search the body for clues. Be very careful."

Ciryl shrugs and Brennan's insistance on Bryce accompanying him, "If you insist, though I'm fairly sure the malcontents are a minority of the town.  I really doubt a salesman is like to get waylaid in the middle of the market, visitor or not."  He stands and makes toward the door, "Come on then, you can lend a hand."

Unless there's more to discuss Ciryl will make his way to his cart where he will retrieve the two recently acquired pairs of boots and have Bryce carry them to any local cobbler. Once located, Ciryl will inquire about any resale value of the perfectly serviceable footwear.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 86):

Titus spends a few minutes doing some makeup to make him look old and gaunt.  He wraps himself up in one of their dingy old oilcloaks and hobbles out walking like an ancient arthritic man.

Deev, change into something less suitable before we head out. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 87):

For Want of a Shoe...

Whatever his expectations, Ciryl finds Bryce less than willing to be a shoe lackey, and is forced to carry the wares himself.

However, once they get underway, their mutual grumpiness forms a sort of silent bond.  One that doesn't need much talk to maintain.

The morning sun is already solidly above the treeline when you emerge from the Inn, and the locals well on their way to a full days work.

Ciryl's cart is where he left it, true to the Guildmistress' word, the guards kept it safe overnight.

Ciryl locates a cobbler easy enough, and is offered a penny each for the pair of shoes.

Two Arms

Brennan stalks out in his usual manner.  He weaves through the artisans and peasantry, and easily finds a few guards to speak with.

They ask probing questions, but Brennan's demeaner is able to convince them that he's unlikely to be a common ruffian, and they direct him to the forge, where the Master of Arms is said to be inspecting new steel.

At one end of the row of artisans is a large, squat, building of stone mostly open on three sides about an enormous chimney.

There, a thin man with an unruly tuft of hair is inspecting some knives while the smiths watch.

Boys Be Shopping

Titus and Deev dress for success, or for inconspicuousness anyhow, and venture out.

They sweep past the local artisans and to the docks.

The fishing boats are already all out, and the fishmongers already at work with the preliminary catch: selling, salting, smoking, and kegging.

Slightly further inland, a small but bustling market has opened up, mostly food, but a few who sell random odds and ends.

In reply to GM (msg # 88):

Deev toddles after Titus dilligently.

In reply to Deev (msg # 89):

"Good morning!" Brennan says, addressing the thin man cheerfully. "The Master of the Hunt mentioned I might find the Master of Arms here this morning. Am I correct in assuming you're him?"

He displays his badge of office for a moment, as if to prove the Master of the Hunt sent him, before returning it to his belt.

"If so, there's been a development the Master of the Hunt believes you'd be eager to learn about. Is there somewhere we could speak privately?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:45, Thu 30 Nov 2017.

Ciryl is happy to go to his cart in quiet dignity with Bryce, but when he's forced to carry four boots in one hand as he makes his way along with his cane, the real grump settles in.  When they come to the cobbler he accepts the offer without haggling and after shoving the two coins in his pocket, seems notably more chipper, "So those two, the fop and the prophet.  They wave their hands around all the time like that when they talk?" he asks as he makes his way back to the cart.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 91):

Titus looks at all the shops with a keen eye but rejecting everything for one reason or another.

The two of them make for the town gate where Brennan told them the body was buried, and blend in with any kind of crowd they can find to exit town.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 92):

The Forge

The tall man carefully ignores Brennan's presence for a few beats, then slowly sets down the blade and turns to lock eyes.  He nods at his title and listens quietly.

His right eyelid twitches as he talks, slow and measured.  His voice is just above a whisper, but seems to quiet ambient noise so that you can hear him clearly.

"First things first.  Who are you?  How came you to have that badge?"

A la Cart

Bryce chuckles.

"They're an odd bunch... you'll see if you stick around with us."  He thinks for a moment.
 "They have their secrets, those two... the kid too for that matter.  I wouldn't put it past them."

The Gates

You are given no trouble, nor even a second glance as you make your way out the gates.

It is easy enough to spot the hill Brennan described, and a thin wagonroad leading up to it.

You start on your way, chatting all the while.

In reply to GM (msg # 93):

Deev keeps up with Titus's long strides.

"Secrets, huh?  I suppose we all do." Ciryl replies thoughtfully.  When they arrive back at his cart he thanks the guard for his service over the night and digs through his cart for some of the ingredients for the more common remedies he supplies the previous day.  Then he makes another announcement with as much showmanship as the one he made on arrival the previous evening to inform anyone in earshot not only about his marvels of modern medicine, but that they will only be available in town for three days, encouraging potential customers not to wait and to stock up before they're gone.  He doesn't pay much mind to how Bryce spends the time once he's back in business.

In reply to Deev (msg # 94):

"A thousand pardons -- introductions quite slipped my mind," Brennan replies easily. "My name is Brennan. Brennan Otthild, to be precise. I'm a scholar and linguist from the south, and I'm just passing through en route to explore the fascinating ruins of Losthelm. The Master of the Hunt had much to say on the matter, and I must admit it has only served to whet my appetite."

He steps closer to the spindly man, but not drawing within an impolite distance.

"My companions and I were waylaid by ruffians on the way into town. Big, loud, and clumsy, led by a man named Keller. We...resolved the situation, and found a badge much like your own among their things."

Brennan shrugs slightly.

"It wasn't as interesting, truth be told, as their tattoos. All inked alike, as if they were chattel, and with such profanities that I am reminded of my days at the Academy."

He glances at the Master of Arms carefully at this point, gauging his reaction.

"Regardless. When we arrived in town, I happened upon the Master of the Hunt and, not knowing who he was, I inquired about his badge of office, as I had seen its like before and was beginning to worry that the bandits had some authority here in town. I was relieved when the Master of the Hunt set me straight. He also advised me to speak with you about the badge we found, fearing it a forgery. Thus, here I am."

Brennan glances around surreptitiously.

"If you don't mind me saying so, I've heard whisperings about the hardships your village is going through at the moment. If the tattoos we saw on Keller and his fellows are any indication, you may be dealing with something a bit more complicated than mere kidnappers. I've see similar signs before, in the south -- such happenings generally attract the attention of the Inquisition. If you take my meaning, sir."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 96):

Titus punches Deev good natured in the shoulder as they crest the hill.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 96):

Up a Hill

Deev bobs along nervously.


A la Cart

Although the streets are bustling, the crowd is far thinner this morning.  Most people are hard at work and have little time.  However, there are a few who want cures for warts, moon tea, or the like.

Ciryl is not surprised to find the small boy from the other day has returned, imploring again for something that blows up 'for fishing'


The Forge

The Master of Arms eyes Brennan carefully, looking more at his clothes and stance than his face.

He slowly steps forward and extends one hand, waiting patiently until Brennan deposits the talisman into his palm.  Carefully he runs his thumb over its surface, then leans slightly to inspect it carefully.  When he does so, Brennan notes a tattoo of a shield on his neck, just barely protruding above his collar.

"I take your meaning," he whispers without looking up.  "We know enough up North to be wary of the denizens of the Dream of Hell.  Mayhap not so familiar as those of the southern academies might be, we have our experience."

He looks up slowly.

"This is indeed a badge of the masters.  I cannot tell if it is stolen or newly minted. I shall speak with Lady Rayne, but I will tell you her response: no artisan of DuckTown would be fool enough to craft this without our direction.  It is possible it was merely misplaced.  I shall enquire."

He pockets the token and straightens up.

"Could you recognize the tattoo if you saw it again?"

In reply to GM (msg # 98):

"I believe so, yes," Brennan replies. "As a linguist and a scholar, I have a certain eye for such things."

He mentally goes over the known brands and tattoos he's seen, trying to figure out which might include a shield.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 99):

All right let’s get to the nasty work of looking for this body.   Deev start over there and work you way toward me.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 17:56, Fri 01 Dec 2017.

Seeing the sparsity of the crowd, Ciryl lowers himself to one knee to look the boy in the eye following his second request for explosives, "Do you really think something that goes boom is going to help with fishing?  Or do you just think that's a more convincing story than what you're actually going to do with it?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 101):

Up a Hill

Titus and Deev carefully scour the area, turning to look down the hill at DuckTown to try and replicate what Brennan told you.

Somewhere off the path itself, you find a grove of high pine trees with an associated carpet of needles beneath.

After a few minutes of searching, Titus' boot kicks something hidden beneath.

Gently, you excavate the corpse of a young girl, naked as the day she was born.

Before the Boom

"Faster than a pole, ain't it?"  he asks.  He shuffles his feet in the dirt.  "So what if there's other uses... I can wait until you're gone to use it... if that's the trouble?"

Investigation

Wordlessly, the Master of Arms leads Brennan from the forge.  The man has long legs and walks with determined purpose, causing his black cloak to billow behind him and Brennan to hustle to keep up.

The man does not speak as he walks.  He gives polite nods to the passing artisans and nobility and a slight salute to guards but otherwise does not have any interest in mingling.

Presently, you come to a small building made of logs and built into the wall about the town.

A guard with a heavy mace steps aside, and the Master of Arms ducks to enter the doorway.  When Brennan follows, he finds himself in a large storeroom where weapons, tools, torches, and the like are kept.

The back of the room is portioned off with wooden bars to form a small jail cell, but it is bare.

"There," the Master of Arms whispers, pointing to a low table.

In the light of a flickering candle, Brennan makes out a body.  Closer inspection reveals it to be a young man who apparently died of stab wounds.  Upon his arm is the same tattoo you have seen on Keller's gang.

In reply to GM (msg # 102):

Brennan's mind races as he takes in the jail, the guards, and other important details. When prompted, he walks over to the table to give the body a closer inspection.

"Yes," he says quietly. "This matches the others in both appearance and location."

He frowns slightly.

I wonder how many tattoo artists this village has...

"Can't imagine it's much easier than a net," Ciryl replies to the boy's claim, "Why don't you tell me why you're so keen on this instead of trying to blow things up once I'm gone?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 104):

Investigation

The Master of Arms nods slowly.

"This boy was found in the outskirts, already dead.  His name was Eric, that is all I was told."

He allows the room to remain quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"In what capacity were you speaking with the Master of Hunt?" he asks finally, still not looking up from the corpse.

Before the Boom

"Seems easier... and more fun..." the boy replies petulantly while kicking at a dirt clod.

In reply to GM (msg # 105):

"I'm afraid I don't take your meaning," Brennan replies. "I encountered him at the local tavern, wearing a badge much like the one you've seen. It piqued my interest, and the conversation flowed from there."

He frowns suddenly.

"Unless...that wasn't him?"

Brennan uses his utterly perfect memory to describe the Master of the Hunt precisely, leaving out no detail about his facial features, identifying characteristics, clothing, meal, drinks, number and appearance of associates, and general demeanor.

Let's see if this investigator is at all impressed.

"Well I'm afraid if all you want is a way to have fun, I'm not going to provide incredibly dangerous combustibles to do it," Ciryl says as he climbs back to his feet.  "Can't you do something more constructive for fun?  Like swimming or holding your breath or something? "

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 107):

Titus looks down at the uncovered body.

Well shit.  There she is.  I was hoping he'd be wrong... just this once.  Deev, watch the road tell me if anyone is coming, but stay out of site.

He pulls out a charcoal and paper and draws the body position just as it was found.  He looks her up and down for any marks that he can see.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 108):

The Investigation

The Master of arms finally looks up.

"Observant.  No doubt you have some experience in these matters, judging by your skill.  You have not been here long enough to study him long, that I know.  No, the man you describe is our Master of Hunt.  None but the masters and their staff should have such badges."

He gestures to leave the armory, and you step back out into the late morning light.

"Tell me what you know of the tattoo.  I will be grateful."

Before the Boom

"I can hold my breath a long time," the boy mutters, sticking out his lower lip.  "Don't reckon what that has to do with anything."  He gives Ciryl's wagon wheel a solid kick before scampering off.

"Charming," Bryce mutters.  "Were up to me, we'd string up all kids until they got useful."

The Grove

Titus sketches the corpse and has a look around.

The small grove is but a dozen paces from the path, which looks to lead further into the wood.  Judging by it's size, it's used by people and small animals, not much larger.

Looking back, DuckTown's walls are down the hill a good half mile away.

In reply to GM (msg # 109):

Titus flips the girl over, and performs the same activity of much more roughly sketching her settling for a girl shaped figure and he takes note of any markings, moles cuts or anything out of place.  He then puts her back and buries her in the shallow grave.

He stands up knuckling his back

Lazy bastards can't even be bothered to bury a body properly.  Wait until I am done with these assholes.

Lets get back to Brennan I have an idea.


Barring any interruptions or other issues we will hunch our way back into town as surreptitiously as possible.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:16, Wed 06 Dec 2017.

"Yes, well, not sure where that would get us but it's certainly an option," Ciryl replies to Bryce.  "The Guild Mistress doesn't have anything obviously suspicious about her.  You have any instincts about who would be most likely responsible for this?  You seem like a...practical man.  Which would you rather be if you had your own demon cult, Master of Arms or Master of Coin?

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 111):

"It's profane," Brennan replies, repeating his earlier assertion. "It talks about bringing together the young and the old, which on its face isn't a bad thing until you consider that the phrase has much in common with what the Academy would phrase a summoning ritual."

He shakes his head slowly.

"It's possible they simply thought the tattoo looked interesting or edgy, of course, and that they have no idea what it really means. But with the disappearances I heard people rumbling about in the tavern? No, I think the smart money bets on there either being legitimate or faux cultic activities being performed nearby."

Brennan gauges the man's reaction to this.

"If you have no scholars of your own with familiarity in such matters, I'd be happy to delay my trip to the ruins of Losthelm and offer you my assistance here. I'd only ask for room, board, and the reimbursement of reasonable expenses in exchange, as my own supplies will be needed once I do make the trip to the ruins afterward."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 112):

About Town

Bryce shrugs.  "Money is always good, if you had that, not much need for guilds or hunting.  Then again, arms gets you money one way or another."

Investigation

"You believe this mark has something to do with the young women gone missing?" The Master of Arms seems finally interested in Brennan now.

"I cannot employ you without the Governor's consent.  But I can pay a bounty on any solid information... or if you can lead me to someone willing to give a confession."

The Hills

Titus wanders back down the hill and into DuckTown without incident.

He is able to locate Ciryl and Bryce easily.

In reply to GM (msg # 113):

Well, Brennan was right. As always. Just this once I wish he wasn’t.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 114):

"I'm leaning that way, yes," Brennan replies. "But I'm not certain yet. A more thorough investigation could likely ferret out the truth."

He smiles slightly.

"I prefer a stipend to a bounty hunter's ledger, truth be told. I'd be pleased to present myself and my credentials to the Governor if their approval would help me serve you better in this capacity."

"Well that narrows it down," Ciryl says, shaking his head in disappointment at Bryce before seeing Titus approach, "I take it you found her?  Anything else?  Clues as to who's responsible?  I haven't heard anything noteworthy around here."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 116):

Yeah I did. 

He produces two sketches with minimal (but noticeable) flourish.

Here are drawings.  Really no information though, just a dead girl.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 117):

Investigation

The Master of Arms' gaze drifts off, losing focus on Brennan.

"You are free to try to speak with the Governor, of course, but I will pay for results, no less."

Town Square

Bryce cringes.

"Now why would you go and do something like that?  Poor girl."

In reply to GM (msg # 118):

Because maybe Brennan can see something in the sketches that I don't know. 

He shrugs.

So now what?  You got anyplace to be?  The shopping in this town sucks.  If not maybe we just go wait on Brennan.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 119):

"Of course," Brennan nods, "I would expect nothing less. And you'll have them."

He thanks the man, asks a few follow-ups regarding where to find the Governor, and waits for a polite opportunity to extricate himself.

Right, then. A date with the governor seems to be in order...followed by a more thorough questioning of Keller's goons. Unless there's a better place to start that I'm missing...

He swings back by the tavern first to see if Titus and the rest have completed their day's tasks yet (OOC: I'm not sure how long this took relative to their own arcs).

If they aren't there, he'll head to whatever passes for city hall himself.

"Let me have a look," Ciryl asks for Titus's sketches, "Any signs what they did to her?"  At Titus's follow-up Ciryl shrugs, "I ought to be here, but the crowds are rather thin.  If he has any better leads I could close shop early."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 121):

Titus shows him the drawings.  Then will head back to the inn if there nothing else to hold his attention.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 122):

Brennan reconnects with the others and relays what he has learned.

"I'm not convinced the Master of Arms is innocent of wrongdoing, but he certainly had the opportunity to lock me up and suppress my discoveries and didn't make use of it. Likewise, the Master of the Hunt did not seem overly worried about the discovery of the forged insignia other than to direct my attention to the Master of Arms," he concludes.

"There are two other masters to consult, but I'm leaning toward paying a visit to the Governor and pursuing some sort of official arrangement to continue our investigation. Maybe even get paid twice for it, if we can find concrete evidence enough to fulfill the bounties."

He looks at the others.

"Did you find her? Was she where I said she'd be?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 123):

Titus nods.

Exactly where.

He hands him the drawings.

Nobody in this town seems all that interested or afraid of demonic cults.  If we want to make them interested or afraid, I know exactly how to do that.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 124):

"I wouldn't say that. The Master of Arms is interested in the cults if that explains the kidnappings. Though I agree, they aren't particularly afraid of them."

He frowns at the pictures for moment, then nods as an idea comes to him.

"Deev...are you able to look like women, too, or only men?"

"The Guild Mistress doesn't sound very suspect, given the gossip around town.  She's strict, by all appearances, but I doubt she's summoning demons in between regulating the craftsmen and merchants."  Ciryl states, handing over Titus's drawings after his own examination.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 126):

"I... yes, certainly!" Deev responds.

In reply to Deev (msg # 127):

Brennan nods thoughtfully.

"Excellent. And how long can you maintain a given form? I'm...debating a rather daring plan to help save these women, and I'd like to be as well-informed as possible before pursuing it further."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 128):

You should probably ask him if he's willing to be kidnapped first.

Titus says offhanded.

"Girls," Ciryl speaks up, "They're kidnapping virgin girls and killing them.  Can he look ten years old too?" Ciryl waves at Deev.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 130):

Brennan narrows his eyes.

"I didn't ask him if he wanted to be kidnapped because that's not my plan," he says, glancing again at the drawing. "I was thinking more like seeing who notices someone who's supposed to be dead being...decidedly not."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 131):

None of Brennan's clarification seems to reduce Deev's visible trembling.

"I... sure I could look like her if..."

Ciryl furrows his brow and looks sharply at Deev, "If what?  You're shaking like a scared dog, what's wrong boy?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 133):

"Oh no, it's... I don't want to get arrested!"

Ciryl's expression falls to deadpan disbelief.  He takes the sketch back from Brennan and holds it up to Deev, draping one arm over his shoulder, "Look at this girl.  She's a child.  An innocent little girl.  Now even if you don't think a brief stint in a cell is worth justice for a child, even if you think your freedom is worth more than a life cut regrettably short, even if you aren't willing to get arrested in the name of doing the right thing, let me ask you one question.  If you look like this," he shakes the piece of parchment, "What in God's name do you think someone is going to arrest you for?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 135):

Deev makes confused rasping noises for a moment, then nods.

"I... that makes sense, doesn't it..."

"Course it makes sense.  Nothing at all for you to be scared of.  You'll be in the best position in this whole plan.  An innocent girl if anyone gets curious, but a capable lad if anything gets dangerous.  The rest of us are going to have to play ourselves," he gives Deev a friendly thump on the back and a short laugh.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 137):

"But not just yet," Brennan says. "We need to wait for the right moment. How long can you comfortably maintain such a disguise, by the by?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 138):

"A few hours if need be," Deev replies.

"Though, it gets.... itchy after a while."

In reply to Deev (msg # 139):

Brennan nods thoughtfully.

"That's very helpful, Deev. Thank you."

He glances over at the others.

"I'd like to pay the governor a visit, get a feel for where he or she stands in all of this. We can use your disguise later when we need to convince them that we have credible information...or when we need to see who does a spit-take when you walk by."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 140):

Brennan will collect whoever among his group is willing and set out toward the Governor's home seeking an audience.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 141):

Brennan, Titus, and Ciryl trudge through the muddy streets with Deev and Bryce in tow.

The Governor's home is easy to find, it is a dark squat building of rough-hewn logs on a low but steep mound of earth and rock overlooking the lake.

To approach the front door, you are forced single-file up a narrow set of steps cut into the earth.

The great oak doors are inlaid with silver flourishes, small leaves and woodland creates, that look somewhat out of place against the stark and simple wood of the walls.

The doors are thrown open, and no guard stands before you.  Through the door is an airy chamber with wooden benches on all sides.  On the far side is another door leading further in.

You are met by a young woman dressed in a stiff starchy doublet and pantaloons, the bright green hue of which throw further contrast on the dark room.  Around her neck, you see a thin bit of twine holing a badge of some kind.

"Ood 'Morrow," she says in an accent that also does not fit.  "Ken you an appointment?"

In reply to GM (msg # 142):

"Indeed," Brennan says with a nod of acknowledgement he deems worthy this woman's perceived station. "Pardon my brevity, madam, but I'm here on urgent business. My name is Brennan -- I'm a scholar from the South, as I'm sure you've surmised by my accent."

He smiles slightly.

"I've had the pleasure of speaking with the Master of the Hunt yesterday. He urged me to speak with the Master of the Guard this morning. Having done so, he thought it would be prudent for me to speak with the Governor..."

He lowers his voice and adopts a look of sympathy.

"It all concerns your fair city's recent...troubles, I'm afraid. I realize the Governor is a busy person, but I assure you, what I have to say will not waste their time."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:27, Tue 02 Jan 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 143):


The woman's eyes go wide, not with fear but with curiosity.  She shakes her head vigorously.

"E canna take audience wit any random man, South or North.  Tell me wha it is eu want and I will pass it on."

The woman is young, you'd guess in her mid to late teens, and she has the look of a surprised squirrel at all times, but despite your pressing, she will not let you walk into the Governor's office.

In reply to GM (msg # 144):

Brennan blinks.

"I'm not a random man from the south. I'm a scholar, trained at the academy, just stopping by on the way to the ruins of Losthelm. I know the warning signs for demonic sacrifices, and this bears all the hallmarks."

He shrugs.

"This isn't my town, nor my problem. I happened to learn something that might help you stop these kidnappings and cult murders, but if that's not important to you -- if you're not even going to offer to make me an appointment -- I'll just be on my way."

Here he pauses to gauge her reaction.

"What's your name, miss? The Masters of the hunt and the guard saw fit to speak with a 'random man' like me, as I had important information for them. I'll be sure to tell them who decided the Governor was too busy to take this threat seriously before I depart."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:34, Wed 03 Jan 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 145):

She looks puzzled.

"My name is... well'r they calls me 'Pika', near nuff my ken."

She smiles suddenly.

"Ue will ken them that?  Oh Heavens, that'd be real nice of ue!  Govnor will be pleased ta hear't!"

She is positively bubbling with joy.  "Demons?  Sacrifissen?  Murder?  That does sound importan, that what I should tell the Guvnor?"

She doesn't wait for a reply, but bounces off through the door, slamming it behind her.

Even through the heavy wood and iron, you can hear her voice and a raspy response, followed by a harsh prolonged cough.

Soon enough she bounds back through the door and leaves it open, gesturing with her hand.

"Here ue are!  Govnor ken eel see ue now!"

She leans in and whispers excitedly as Brennan passes, "I left oot the part abou 'random man' see?  It made ue sound less important."

Pika remains in the entrance chamber as you pass into the next room.  She scribbles something furiously on a small parchment.  If you look over your shoulder, she is waving excitedly at you, then closes the door.

The next room is a large office, the only light from a series of lamps about the periphery.  The room is a pentagram, each side having a wooden door in the center.

There is a large desk in the center, and several scribing stations and bookshelves spaced between the doors.  There are no tapestries, but there are a few maps on the walls which seem to show DuckTown and the surrounding region all the way to East Watch.

The man sitting behind the desk is old, perhaps sixty summers.  His face is gaunt and his hair stringy but neatly kept.  Likely in his youth he had a formidable stature, but his back is slightly bent, his skin pale, and be ends most sentence with a throaty cough.

"Name yourself, Southron Academic," he says simply, not rising to greet you.

Ciryl keeps to the back of the group, not quite committing himself as part of Brennan's band, but happy to be carried along on their good graces.  He bobs politely to Pika as he passes her  on the way to the governor's office where he stands to one side of the group, letting Brennan continue to lead the way.  He does give the aging governor an appraising look while they talk.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 147):

Pika smiles broadly at Ciryl, showing off the gap in her front teeth.

In reply to GM (msg # 148):

Titus breezes in deciding that Brennan's charm have so far been sufficient, takes up the role of bodyguard/confidant.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 149):

Brennan cranes his neck to look at the parchment as the woman scribbles upon it prior to admittance, then follows her into the room.


The governor's office is clearly not what Brennan was expecting, and it takes him a heartbeat or three to conceal that fact as he takes in the room.


"Good morning, your honor," Brennan says, using the appropriate honorific alongside a bow suitable for a southern governor of modest stature. "I'm Brennan Otthild, a scholar, linguist, and academic formerly in the service of one of Lord Bayton's bannermen. As your assistant may of mentioned, I am currently traveling to Losthelm under the patronage of the good Lord Fastbender."

He comes to within a respectful distance of the Governor, and bids the others to remain where they are -- knowing full well they may or may not heed him.

"It was my intention to merely pass through your fair domain, but we were accosted by bandits along the road. I won't bore you with the details, as your time is precious, but it did not end well for them."

"I have since learned that these bandits lived in the slums beyond your gates. They are branded with tattoos that are Fel in origin.."

Brennan looks gravely concerned at this point.

"My studies at the Academy in Galeena have left me well acquainted with Fel symbolism. These tattoos represent part of a ritual, I'm afraid. And it gets worse: the men received these tattoos at the urging of someone quite powerful here in town."

Brennan gauges the man's reaction to these details so far.

"Someone who isn't afraid to forge or steal the badge of office worn by your assistant and others who act in your honor's name. I found such a badge in the possession of a man named Keller, who was among the bandits who assailed us. I didn't know what it was, of course, until I encountered the same sigil being worn openly in the tavern last night. I questioned the man wearing it -- my curiosity got the better of me."

He clears his throat.

"It was fortunate that it did, your honor, for the man I questioned turned out to be the Master of the Hunt. On his advice, I sought out the counsel of the Master of the Guard this very morning. He identified the badge I found as a forgery and, after hearing my tale, asked me to examine a corpse in the local jail. I agreed to do so, and I tell you, that body is marked with the same tattoo that the bandits wore."

"We spoke a while longer, but ultimately the master of the guard suggested that if I wanted to help with this matter in any official capacity, I should speak with you first. Never one to buck proper protocols, I agreed. And so, here I am."

Brennan lowers his voice slightly.

"I've heard about the kidnappings and disappearances, your honor. I'm afraid this isn't a ransom situation or the work of barbarians or slavers or the like. You have cult activity afoot. At least one of the missing girls has already been murdered in a ritualistic manor. She is likely neither the first nor the last to suffer this fate."

He looks at the Governor carefully, then nods toward the map on the wall.

"I've learned along the road that even Lord Garr has recently found himself assailed by demonic forces. The cults are becoming reckless and bold."

"My Lord Fastbender does not believe in coincidences -- only opportunities. He would not mind if I were to enter into your service for the purposes of resolving this calamity befalling your domain.

He offers an assuring smile.

"That's the short of it, but this is just the greens of a very long carrot, your honor. As eager as I am to explore Losthelm, the ruins will still be there to study after this matter is resolved. I simply couldn't depart here with an easy mind without first offering to do what I can to assist. As I'm sure you'd agree, those with the ability to render aid should strive to do so."

Brennan says the next bit more softly than the rest.

"All for the one, young and old. Isn't that right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:19, Wed 03 Jan 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 150):


The Governor waits quietly while Brennan speaks, casting curious looks at Titus, Ciryl, and the rest of your entourage.

"It seems then you are fully aware of our plight.  You say you have studied the darkness in an academic setting.  Tell me, have you seen these sort of disappearances before?"

He coughs, withdrawing a filthy cloth from his sleeve to spit into before continuing.

"That this was no kidnapping or mere hooligans was clear to me, what is not clear is what other purpose there may be.  Shed light on that, and you will have rewards both monetary and in the eyes of God when he awakens, I am sure.  The people of DuckTown too would be forever grateful."

He rasps again, pausing to drink from a glass on his desk.

"But I will not pay for false hope.  Bring me answers, bring me a confession, God willing, bring back the girls.  I have no budget for academic musings.  To falsify a badge of our office is indeed bold, one doing that would have no fear, or be insane.

I will direct my staff to provide you with whatever information may be of help, and you will find my Master of Arms to be fully capable of bringing in whomever you think needs questioning."

He leans forward, gazing through ratty hair directly into Brennan's eyes.

"I have respect for scholarly learning, especially when our other efforts have failed, but I will not allow this to sow any more fear than there already is.  Bring me results, but do not trouble us or you will find such trouble return to you."

He coughs again, sinking back into his chair.

"You quote the children's poem, I think?

'Jump in, jump out, and spinning about,
Springheel Jack is seeking you out.
Hurry quick, hurry home, and running once more,
His shadow follows round every door.
Pay his price or he comes, give him his due,
Or your head he will take when the evening is through.
All for the one, young and old,
As long as virginity they still hold.'”
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:39, Tue 09 Jan 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 151):

Our association has a long track record success.  We will ply our trade and take care to cause minimal ripples to the good people of duck town.

Is there any badge your lordship could give us to lend credibility to our pursuit in your name? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 152):

"I can provide the answers you're searching for, given time. I know, there's scant enough of it. But the hope I offer is not false."

Brennan smiles, memorizing the poem and tucking it away for later use.

"The children's poem has some similarities to an ancient ritual that, yes, purports to require virgin's blood. Ghastly thing."

His tone turns serious.

"If we were to assume these cultists only make off with young maidens, we could draw up a fairly good list of who is at risk for being taken next. I can confer with the Master of Arms about this, but do you happen to know roughly how often girls are going missing? Establishing a cadence would be very helpful."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 153):


The Governor leans back into his chair.

"To my knowledge, three girls have gone missing this month.  Exactly when?  The Master of Arms has a clerk who keeps records.  Pika can show them to you."

He calls to his assistant, interrupting himself with a long raspy cough.  Within a few seconds, the young Pika comes bounding through the door.  Instructions given, she vanishes through one of the other doors, only to return a few moments later with a thick logbook branded with the same seal you have seen the Masters wearing.

She quickly scans through and finds the entries Brennan is asking about.

"Accordance with our records, the reports of the Master of Arms' cleark: they vanished about a week apart.  None have yet been found that we ken."

In reply to GM (msg # 154):

Brennan looks over the records carefully, making note of any whose age would best match the young girl whose body was found in the woods.

"Thank you," he says, pointing to the most recent disappearance. "We can expect the next abduction about a week from this date, then."

He frowns as he considers the book.

"Are there detailed notes in here about the circumstances surrounding these disappearances? Reports from witnesses, notes from the investigation so far? Anything to refine the theory further..."

Brennan nods quietly, perusing the book and memorizing the page before him.

"Yes, this all falls neatly within the spectrum of my theory. I'll just need to examine the areas where they were taken, perhaps read those reports or question witnesses..."

He glances over at the governor.

"In the interest of avoiding public scrutiny and maintaining the peace in the midst of the investigation, it might be worthwhile to have some sign or seal I could show townsfolk who might otherwise rightly wonder what, exactly, I think I'm doing asking uncomfortable questions or studying the town's topography."

Brennan nods thoughtfully.

"The company of one of your associates would work just as well, of course, but I see no need to tie up their valuable time. And, of course, it remains possible that someone close to you is complicit...and I intend to ferret the truth about that out for you, as well."

He smiles slightly.

"With solid evidence, and proof to spare. I'm a scholar, after all. If nothing else, you can take comfort in knowing that I value hard facts above hearsay, and know the difference well."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 155):

The Governor's assistant wobbles her head.

"Nah, what eu see in'r book is everything reported."

The Governor nods.  "As she says.  The Master of Arms may know more, or his aids might, but I trust Pika wrote down all the details we were presented."

He covers his mouth with a cloth again, hacking into it for a prolonged period.  During that time Pika rocks uncomfortably to and fro on her heels.

"Ah," he finally chokes out.  "You speak like an Inquisitor!  No doubt you studied with enough of their kind to pick it up?  No matter.  Take Pika with you if you need a guide and someone the people know.  I'd trust her with my life, there's no reason to question her... dedication to solving this heinous mystery."

Pika bobs her head, and you see the glint in her eye falter.  For a split second, she a little girl just as likely to be taken in the night as any other.  Then she smiles.

"Certainly as eu say, Lord Govnor."

In reply to GM (msg # 156):

If Brennan is satisified then Titus will graciously take his leave with him.  He says discreetly to the group as we are leaving...

Are you telling me they are trying to unleash springheel jack?!  I swear we've fallen into a children's story.

Which also probably means Pika is made of sterner stuff than we are giving her credit for.
  Not sure if it is to our benefit or detriment, but watch out.

...so I assume that we start out the quiet way and if that doesn't get results we kick the hornets nest?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Tue 09 Jan 2018.

As Titus makes to leave Ciryl steps forward, "Excuse me sir, but if you're done the pressing business, I have a question of my own.  How long have you had that cough?" He leans onto his cane, trying to express genuine interest without seeming improper in the situation.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 158):

The Governor frowns at Ciryl.

"I don't see how it matters to you," he growls, "what are you on about?"

"Oh," Pika chimes in, "Ee's a chemist eu see!"  Noticing questioning looks from Brennan and company, Pika cocks her head to one side and adds, matter-of-factly, "Lady Raynee noted it in the Guild logs.  We ken a chemist propper."

"Ah," the Governor's tone softens somewhat.  "It's nothing, I'm sure.  Always gets worse with the coming of winter, and this one is like to be cold, the astrologers tell me.  But it's been bedeviling me for the past two winters."

"Two winters?  That's quite a stubborn cough.  Would you mind if I had a closer look at you?  Maybe I can help you weather the cold a bit better." he offers, not approaching without the governor's consent.  If given he walks up, and touches on the older man's throat, puts his ear up against the governer's chest and tells him to breath and gives him more or less what one expects out of an impromptu medical exam.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 160):

The Governor bristles again.

"Alchemist eh?  Are you a Southron academic too?"  He eyes Ciryl, particularly his clothes.

"No, you don't look it.  You LOOK like a hustler.  Man came through last spring, claimed to be the best alchemist west of the mountains.  Told me to take more beer with my supper, and to get plenty of air.  Well, you can see what good that's doing me," he coughs again to punctuate the clear results.

"Anyway I've no time at the moment.  You have my leave to question whomever you wish as long as you don't cause a stir."

"I've been south of here sir, but I'm no proper academic. I taught myself, read books and made some mistakes along the way," he taps his cane against his leg to punctuate the sentence, "I am a salesman. You've seen that much right, and I make no other claims, but I sell medicine.  Real medicine, and I sell it to the people that need it.  I want to help, same as these men, I'm just not so well acquainted with demons or other hokum as they are.  If you've no time for me I won't bother you, but a cold oughtn't last three winters uncared for.  Not if the person carrying it intends to last longer."  He meets the governor's eyes for a moment, looking quite sincere about this point before he bows his head politely and rejoins the others on their way.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 162):

The Governor nods absently.  "Mayhap we will speak later.  Especially if your search is fruitful."

In reply to GM (msg # 163):

Brennan nods his thanks and makes to leave the room, provided Cyril realizes he's been dismissed.

"The governor was kind to offer your assistance to us," he says to Pika. "Is there a quiet place we can talk without being interrupted? I have a few questions we should go over before I can decide where to look for our next clue."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 164):

If there is no further business, you allow Pika to show you out of the office, through the empty waiting room and into the town.  Before exiting, Pika vanishes into another room for a moment, returning with a heavy traveling cloak wrapped around her shoulders and a thick stack of ledgers and other papers.

Before speaking, she insists that it is time for lunch: that one must remain punctual, and not vary one's schedule too much on such matters or risk reduced mental efficiency.

Whether you protest or not, she will hear nothing of it, leading you briskly through the streets toward the docks, all the while noting the benefits of a rigid schedule and careful attendance to hygiene, rest, and mealtimes.  She is small and knows the streets well, so you are forced to sprint to keep up with her as she ducks under and around the crowd and takes various side-streets.  Sometimes you nearly lose her but for the trailing flick of her long cloak.

Finally, you are led to a seemingly random fishmonger busy rotating skewers on a bed of coals beside several barrels.

Pika purchases one for herself, and notes that eel is a most efficient and healthy food, directing you to have at least one.

"Now," she says stepping off to one side to converse among a pile of crates and fishing nets.

"Do eu have a plan fur investigation?"

In reply to GM (msg # 165):

Titus nudges Brennan in the ribs.

You see... sterner stuff than appears.

He says in an aside.

My lady you are a force of nature.  He is the brains of the operation.  I'm just the pretty face...

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 166):

"Ooh?" Pika responds curiously as she gnaws on her eel.  This she manages to do, somehow, incredibly neatly.

In reply to GM (msg # 167):

"I do," Brennan replies, helping himself to an eel and taking a moment to ponder how best to consume it. "But a lot of it depends on the timing. Knowing exactly how long ago the last disappearance occurred will help us predict the next one."

He frowns at the eel's distinct...let's call it 'flavor'...but continues.

"Did you know these girls at all personally? What can you tell me about the circumstances leading up to their disappearance? Particularly the latest victim."

In reply to GM (msg # 167):

Titus grabs an eel for himself and gnaws on it thoughtfully.

D'ye ken any connection fer victims?  I mean other'n bein young girls?  Were they friends, or the parents?  Any club, or 'prenticeship?  Is there anyone in town who ken a sudden change in fortunes?  Rags to riches... or t'other way round? 

As Pika speeds through the town Ciryl falls farther and farther behind the rest of the group, ultimately shouting his frustrations after them as he does his level best to keep up and fails.  At the fishmonger, it is only as the conversation picks up that he finally arrives.  He leans heavily on his cane, panting, "Wha... I wha..." he gulps a breath before finally gasping, "You nearly lost me" and wagging a finger at their guide.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 170):

Pika shakes her head.

"Didn'a ken any of them.  Govnor keeps me busy, an my schedule won allow it."

She watches Ciryl wheeze with wide-eyes for a moment as she finishes the last bit of eel on her stick.  Finished, Pika places the stick carefully on top of a barrel and opens one of the booklets she carries.

"Last'un were 6 days past, poor girl gone overnight like.  Parents say she were there for prayers, then gone in morning.  Records fer income, tax, finance an the like?  That'd be with the Master of Coin."

She blinks at Titus, sniffs defiantly, and answers.

"No names in common among them, ken nothing to do with one another, apart from their age, and all wen missing.  One worked up north side, selling pelts for a trapper."

In reply to GM (msg # 171):

D'ye ken the names of the girls taken and their parents?  When did they take the pelter's daughter?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 172):

"Aye."

She pulls out a piece of paper to consult.

"Lily, that's the last ohn gone 6 days past.  Olette, she'r the one worked selling pelts, gone 13 days.  Rose, gone 19 days."

In reply to GM (msg # 173):

An' the parents?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 174):

She reads out their names.

OOC: I'll just refer to them as "Lily's parents" etc. because I don't want things to get too confusing.

In reply to GM (msg # 175):

"What's this town's population? How many young maidens, roughly, would you say there are?"

He frowns slightly.

"We'll want to narrow down who's likely to be the next victim, so as to prevent it."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 176):

"I dunna ken."  Pika frowns and looks off in the distance, clearly doing some sort of higher math.  She pokes absently at the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

"Fifteh children, maybe seventeh?  Half of them girls."

In reply to GM (msg # 177):

"So two-score targets, roughly, at worst," Brennan muses. "Thank you, that's very helpful."

He taps his fingers against the top of his wrist absently.

"Do you know anything about Keller?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 178):

If you were us, what would be yer first move?
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 16:40, Fri 12 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 179):

"Oh, I'm no investigator... talk teh the parents?  Master of Arms already had ees men search fur the girls..."

"Kelleh?  I..."

Pika scans her notes, then starts flipping through.  Her search becomes more and more frantic and upset as she goes.

"I dunna ken oo is Kelleh?"

In reply to GM (msg # 180):

Titus pulls out a new sheet of paper and draws Keller on it.

Not the best likeness mindee but bettern nuttin. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 181):

Pika looks at the picture carefully, but only shrugs.

In reply to GM (msg # 182):

"He lived in the shanty town out there, and was in league with the kidnappers, but he's dead," Brennan says. "Before he died, he mentioned that someone rich and powerful on this side of the wall was his patron. Someone who gave him a forged badge of office. We find that person? We find the kidnappers."

He frowns.

"I've spoken with the Master of the Hunt and Arms. It might be worth speaking with the Master of Coin, if only to round out the lot. Who else employs those badges, and how many of them would you say exist?"

"The Guild Mistress," Ciryl volunteers, "I spoke with her after I arrived. Word in the market is that she does her job, not much else to say."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 184):

When Brennan describes the badge, Pika nods.

"Aye, only other'd be Master of Coin."

In reply to GM (msg # 185):

So there are five in total? The four Masters...and your own?

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 186):

Pika nods.

In reply to GM (msg # 187):

"Who makes them for you? I'm assuming one didn't just go missing recently, and someone would need to have the mold to make such a perfect replica as the one I found in Keller's home."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 188):

"Oh'n the badges do eu mean?  Well there's near twenty of those I ken.  One fer each Master, the Govoner, then there's the klerks an agents fer each, tha'd be me."

She counts off fingers.

"Smitty makes them, guildmistress Rayne holds the mold."

In reply to GM (msg # 189):

Dun suppose you ken how many badges are given t' each Master?  Ken eu give us a list with each person who should have one.

He turns to Brennan

T'way I see it... I ken we count up the badges and find one is missin'.  Keller had the real deal, not a fake see.  If'n we ken who is missin' a badge we can start pullin' threads... catch my meanin'?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 190):

Pika nods.

"Each Master will have an accounting.  Is up to them who they deputize."

"If that's the case there's no reason to assume the guilty party kept Keller's badge on their list.  Unless Smitty's been counting the badges himself anyone who's half clever could cover that right up," Ciryl observes.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 192):

Titus waves off Ciryl and Pika

Does the mayor's office ken how many badges are given to each master individually... example, 4 to the master of coin, 6 to the master of arms... so on.  Or does the master of arms jus go to the guildmistress and ass'r fer mold and have smitty make them up.  'Haps the guildmistress ken the list of who asked fer it? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 193):

"That's a ken," Pika agrees.  "Not in my records."

In reply to GM (msg # 194):

Bah! 

Titus grouses.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 195):

"The Master of Arms seemed certain the badge I found was a forgery, though he didn't disclose how he knew that."

Brennan frowns thoughtfully.

"So we should speak with the Master of Coin, this Smitty fellow, and then the mold's keeper, I suppose. And quickly."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 196):

Titus smiles charmingly at Pika.

Thank'ee dear lady fer the eel and he help.  Rest easy we'll ken what happened to the girls.

He takes her hand and bows his forehead to it.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 197):

He adds, his head still over her head.

Will milady ken fer me t' walk er back to the governor's mansion.  With all the talk of kidnappin's it wouldn't do t' have ee taken from us. 

His eyes sparkle as he turns on the charm.

"Actually, I'd like to ask her assistance with something if we won't be needing her company with the inquiries," Ciryl interjects.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 199):

Titus raises an eyebrow.

By all means if she'll ken to it.  I just won't ken to her wanderin herself.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 200):

Pika visible bristles.

"Eu need not worry.  I kann look after meself well enough."

She scowls petulantly at Titus.

"I am at eu disposal, whatever assistance the investikation needs."

In reply to GM (msg # 201):

"Do you have the schedules for the Master of the Coin and the Guildmistress? We'll want to speak with them both."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 202):

Pika seems to have no need to check her papers.

"Lady Ranee will be in the market for another hour or two.  The Master of Coin is in the bank, neer always I ken."

In reply to GM (msg # 203):

"Well, then. I suppose Lady Renee first, then, and afterward the bank," Brennan smiles, standing to rise and clearly expecting everyone to come with him. "Shall we?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 204):

Titus rises slowly to make sure that Ciryl is going with Pika otherwise he'll break off and follow her.

If Pika doesn't follow on her own, Ciryl leads her after Brennan, enjoying a more leisurely pace than the one taken to get to the eel man.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 206):

Titus will keep an easy pace with Pika chating her up with little pleasantries and in specific trying to find out where she is from, does she have a family and so on.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 207):

Brennan leads the way to the marketplace, though he glances over a Pika and nods toward the crowd as though to indicate she should show the way to their destination at this point.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 208):

Pika smiles and takes the lead, again careening down random alleys such that Ciryl is once again left behind.

You don't go far, however, Guildmistress Rayne is in the central market presiding over a small group of important-looking people.

As Ciryl described, she has a stiff professional air befitting her simple but expensive clothes and hair drawn back into a tight bun.

She speaks quickly and to the point.

OOC:  we can RP the whole thing or if you just have a few questions we can gloss over the details, up to you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:52, Wed 17 Jan 2018.

As the party begins to distance itself from Ciryl he sighs and with a shake of his head gives up the chase, veering toward his cart’s resting place instead.  Once there he begins digging through his various supplies, apparently on a mission of his own as he doesn’t drop down his sign or make any indication that he’s back in business.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 210):

Market

Guildmistress Rayne glances up at Brennan and his crew, initially dismissing them until she notices Pika waving at her.

She wraps up her business with a stout man in a tall hat and raises her chin at you.

"Yes?"

She is not a large or imposing woman, but the calm collectedness, formality, and meticulousness of her airs exude confidence and iron constitution.

Cart

Circyl works alone at his cart.

In reply to GM (msg # 211):

"Good morning," Brennan says affably. "My name's Brennan Otthild, scholar from the south. I've just come from the governor's office."

He glances around.

"We've a matter of some importance to discuss with you, I'm afraid. Is there someplace we could speak more privately?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 212):

The Guildmistress tilts one eyebrow almost dismissively.

Pika charges in.

"Guild Master, thees'r from out of town.  They're helping the Govnor investigate the disapperances, I'vea been asked to help."

The Guildmistress nods.

"As that may be, and if the Governor commands I will assist.  My time, however, is limited.  Be brief."

She dismisses those surrounding her, and leads you aside out of direct earshot of those in the market.

She then waits patiently for your questions.

In reply to GM (msg # 213):

Brennan follows his usual inquiry, establishing the facts of the case and asking for particulars including:

1) Does she know any of the victims well?
2) When was the last time she saw the last victim taken?
3) How many people has she entrusted with a badge of authority?
4) Does she know who Keller is?
5) What is her opinion of the other Masters and the Governor? (This isn't asked in quite that way, of course).

Do I get the sense that she is worried? Lying? Annoyed?

Do her answers have inconsistencies?

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 214):

The Guildmistress' replies are short and to the point, bordering on frustration, but never objecting to a single line of inquiry.

From time to time she casts glares at Pika, who just smiles broadly.

1. She knew none of the victims.
2. She never saw any of the victims.
3. She has only one direct subordinate who would wear that badge: her inspector.  The guilds each have a head or leader that is under her command, but they do not wear the badge.
4. She has no idea who Keller is, either by name or description, though she did hear that your group ran into and dispatched some "miscreants" the other day.
5. Through indirect questioning, and her alarming frankness, her opinions of the other masters appears to be:

The Governor is an honest and fair man
The Master of Hunt is an undisciplined scoundrel
The Master of Arms is efficient, though not sociable.  He is not above using fear as a tool.
The Master of Coin is good at money, but nothing else

Your read on her is that she is annoyed at you wasting her time.

After spending some time alone with his cart, Ciryl makes his way into the market, politely asking some errant passwersby or shop keepers where he can find the Guild Mistress and making his way there to find the rest of the party without quite so much rush and running as Pika might like.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 216):

Titus chimes in with

1.  What is the process for getting the badge
2.  Do the badges have signs to indicate their authenticity
3.  Has she noticed any sudden changes in fortune among the townsfolk
4.  Where would you be able to find more illicit vendors

The last, of course would be broached with the briefest of nods towards delicacy.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 217):

1. She controls the mold.  Under her or her Inspector's supervision, the smith uses it to make new ones when needed.
2. The mold is unique, you can compare any badge to it to see if it came from that mold.
3. Not that she is aware of.
4. You are directed to the outskirts for anything like a "black market".

In reply to GM (msg # 218):

Brennan will ask where this Inspector is now, and whether his duties would permit him to examine a potentially counterfeit badge now in the Master of Arms's possession.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 219):

Do you keep a log of who requests the mold and when?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 220):

You can visit the inspector.  The Guildmistress says there are no specific records she is aware of regarding who uses the mold.

The Inspector is easily found doing rounds among the shops of local craftsmen.

He is a short portly fellow with a thin red beard and a tattoo of a compass under one eye.

In reply to GM (msg # 221):

Brennan thanks her for her time and tries to find the Inspector.

"After him, we'll see the Master of Coin," he notes.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 222):

The Inspector is gruff, but seeing Pika there, and after getting assurances that the Guildmistress sent you, he is compliant enough.

He claims to keep no records specifically for the mold, but he oversees it's use, and always uses the same smith.  He recalls the last use was a few days past, and that it's been a personal frustration for him because the Master of Coin is always misplacing his pendant, and has required near half a dozen replacements in the past year.

The Inspector hasn't spoken with the Master of Coin directly, but with his secretary.

In reply to GM (msg # 223):

Brennan thanks the man for his time and asks Pika to take them to the Master of the Coin. Along the way, he inquires about the Master of Coin's secretary (age, how long has he/she worked for him, what they did prior to that, complaints/gossip).

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 224):

Pika visibly reins in her frustration at the "inadequate" (as you can hear her muttering later) record keeping of her coworkers.

She leads you through DuckTown to the bank, another squat building on the edge of town.  Unlike the Governer's manor, this building is guarded by a pair of large men wearing hauberks and carrying swords on their hips.

They nod to Pika and allow you to pass unhindered.

This building is large and open, with high ceilings.  Most of the building is a single room filled with tables at which various people are counting out coins, adding or subtracting from ledgers, or exchanging currency.

There are guards at every exit who eye the proceedings carefully.

Pika leads you past the clerks and counters to a back office.  Inside, the air immediately turns stuffy and heavy, the smell of leather and paper almost stifling.


The walls are entirely covered in books and racks of rolled parchment scrolls.

In the middle of the office is a desk almost entirely drowned in further books, ledgers, and paper.  Barely visible in the middle of the mess is a man with thin white hair, spectacles, and a broad smile.

Pika introduces you to DuckTown's Master of Coin.

"Of course, come in, come in," he urges with a wave of his hand.  "Pika, my dear from a foreign land, how nice of you to visit me, and bring me guests it seems?  It's been far too long!  May I again entreat you to join my staff?  I could tell you again what an asset you would be, how much more exact our records would become, and how it would please an old man to see so able an accountant flourish."

"And I would tell eu again, sur," Pika replies quickly but pleasantly, "That I must refuse.  Eu ken the why."

"Yes, yes, of course, but I have to make the attempt.  You're the best clerk in the North!"

He cranes his neck to see Brennan et al over the pile of assorted junk on his desk.

"Now then, who are you and how may I be of service?"

In reply to GM (msg # 225):

Titus raises his eyebrow at the refusal.

I'll have to get to the bottom of that...

Do we RP this one or just more firing?

Who is the lazy forgetful idiot who keeps losing his damn medallion?

I think is a good start.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 226):

Brennan allows Pika to introduce him, at least, to the Master of Coin, before asking any questions.

"My good sir, as Pika mentioned, I am a scholar from the south who has found my way into your fair town by happenstance on the way to the ruins of Losthelm..."

He proceeds to tell an abbreviated version of the past events, including meeting with the other 3 masters and the governor himself. He leaves out the particulars aside from the top-level bits.

"If I may, it seems that your office goes through more badges of office than most. Do you or does anyone on your staff know a man named Keller, or indeed spend any time whatsoever in the shanty town? Have you ever recovered the badges that have gone missing, or are there still more unaccounted for?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 227):

As Brennan tells a sanitized version of your recent tales, the Master of Coin goes from rapt attention to polite nods to finally returning to his work.

There is a long awkward pause after Brennan finishes speaking where the only sound is the scratching of the Master of Coin's quill.

Pika clears her throat loudly, bribing back the man's attention.

"Hmmm?  Ah, yes, very interesting story."  He waits patiently, clearly not having heard Brennan's questions at the conclusion.

Brennan repeats himself, and the Master of Coin shakes his head.

"I do not know any Keller, or perhaps that's the lad who changes the chamber pots?"

"No, ee's Willis, son of the Crier, sir," Pika adds helpfully.

"Oh yes.  Nice lad.  Then I'm afraid I don't know a Keller.  As for badges, well, that's a bit embarrassing."  He sighs.  "You see, once I leave this office, well, my mind never really leaves this office.  I'm a bit forgetful, no sense denying it.  Sometimes I've misplaced it, I'm afraid.  Have my Clerk get me a new one when I remember it."

In reply to GM (msg # 228):


Titus inspects the office while Brennan talks.  When he acts like he never heard of him Titus slaps the page with his drawing infront of him.

Looks like this.

He says.  He wanders around a bit during the answer and walks past Brennan afterwords whispering to him

Guildmistress is right... he's an idiot.  Probably have better luck at the clerk.

He smiles broadly and takes a stance at his ease next to Brennan.  He asks out loud

Lets say that one of these medallions finds it out of your possession and into the hands of someone who shouldn't have it.  What could they do with it?

This message was last edited by the player at 21:17, Mon 22 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 229):

The Master of Coin looks carefully at the drawing, but only shrugs.

"With a badge?  Well I... one could imagine they'd get up to no good with it, impersonate a clerk or an officer, perhapse?"

He shakes his head.

"But it wouldn't do much good, DuckTown takes care of its own, we're a good town.  There's enough people know all the Master's agents by face, you wouldn't keep up the facade long.  Maybe among the rabble in the outskirts... or foreign travelers like yourselves..."

He trails off as his eyes stray from you to his paperwork once more.

In reply to GM (msg # 230):

Titus nods

Keep going... there's more to the story there. 

He encourages him as he looks back at the page.  He will gently cajole the master until he gets something or hits a wall.

OK.  So lets continue with the idea of the outskirts.  Exactly what would having one of those badges do for you in the outskirts?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 231):

"Hmmm?" the Master of Coin is pulled from his work once again.  "Oh... well I don't know that I've been there in many long years."

In reply to GM (msg # 232):

Titus grits his teeth and begins to silently count.  He walks over to the Master of coin's desk and perches himself on the edge of it to command his attention with proximity.

Yes but you know the rules, statutes and priveleges of your power.  What could you do with it in the outskirts were you given to mischief? 

I'm assuming the coinmaster's desk is a complete disaster.  Can I see what he is working on?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 233):

"Oh my," the Master of Coin looks flustered.  He looks to Pika for support but she only shrugs.

"I daresay I don't listen to bards all too often, stories are not my strong suit."  He watches Titus' every move carefully while the singer attempts to make sense of the documents.

"I suppose one could get up to mischief ordering people about... but why is beyond me."

The papers look to be covered in numbers, grid lines, and small notes.  Titus ascertains that the Master of Coin is working on numbers.

In reply to GM (msg # 234):

Titus smiles disarmingly.

There are bards, and there are Bards... and I am the latter.  You forgot to cary the one.

He points at the page adding proudly adding some words that he had heard somewhere.  He sits comfortably on the corner of the desk commanding the master of coin's attention.  He spares a quick glance to Brennan and Cyril indicating 'your witness' if they don't have anything he will continue...
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Tue 23 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 235):

Both the Master of Coin and Pika (who rushes over immediately) inspect the paper Titus indicated.

The Master of Coin stares at it for some time with a confused look on his face.

Pika fixes Titus with a glare that seems to say, "I'm not sure if you're an idiot or an arse."

In reply to GM (msg # 236):

"I appreciate your time, sir," Brennan says, jerking his head toward the door in an attempt to get Titus moving. "We'll leave you to your work, but before we go, I would dearly like to speak with the person you charge with replacing the badge when you misplace it. Could you direct us to them, please?"

Assuming this is granted and they are soon ushered out of the room, Brennan spares a moment to speak with Titus -- though he does not bother to keep this quiet from Cyril or Pika.

"Unless your vast experience in theatrics has exposed that man as a rather splendid actor, I'm inclined to believe he is the overwhelmed and overworked bookkeeper he claims to be. There was no reason to antagonize him."

"If I were to choose one of the four Masters to ingratiate myself to in order to gain access to things I shouldn't have access to, I would have already been leaning toward the treasury for monetary purposes. The fact that their Master is perhaps the least attentive to their surroundings would be an added bonus. I am eager indeed to meet this assistant who supposedly handles the missing badges. With any luck, they will either be or know the one we seek."

He frowns slightly.

"Pike, are the Governor and the Master of Arms aware that this office -- the Treasury -- is a badge sieve?"

Brennan silently goes over the numbers he saw on the ledgers in his perfect memory as they walk...

Brains + Accounting: 2x8
This message was last edited by the player at 15:38, Tue 23 Jan 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 237):

But he's soooo annnooooyyinnngggg.

Titus plaintiffly repsonds.

Though your right.  As always.  He's definitely not acting.  The guildmistress was right.

Pika, what mischief could you get up to with one of those badges in the outskirts of town?

"I suppose you would know," Ciryl jabs playfully at Titus, having kept to the back of the group again, especially after Titus's last display.  "Pika, the investigator said he only spoke with the Master of Coin's secretary.  Do you have any idea how often anyone else actually sees the master in person?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 239):

Titus sticks his tongue out at Ciryl in response to the jab.

God this town is even infecting you guys too.

He mutters.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 240):

The Master of Coin waves jovially as you leave.

"Enjoy your... ah, stay in DuckTown! I do hope you find what you're looking for!"


The door is quickly shut by a guard as you exit.

"Oh, neh, not at all!" Pika exclaims in a worried voice.  "Such poor rekord keepin..."

You are able to find the Chief Clerk easily enough, as he is attending to business in the same building.  You are forced to wait as he concludes whatever it is he is doing.

The Chief Clerk is a young man with sandy hair and a stern gaze.

In reply to GM (msg # 241):

Brennan looks him over for any visible tattoos, then gives the usual introduction with Pika's input as needed.

"It seems the Master of Coin has a habit of misplacing his badges of office," Brennan concludes. "Can you tell us more about that?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 242):

The man sighs heavily and lowers his voice so that you have to lean in to hear him.

"Aye, the man would lose his head if it weren't attached at the neck.  Misplaced it several times this year I'd say.  I save him the embarrassment and talk to the Inspector myself.  He's got the sharpest mind for numbers in the north, but..."

He shakes his head again and shrugs.

In reply to GM (msg # 243):

Do you ever find the lost badges?  Or when he loses them are they gone forever? 
This message was last edited by the player at 19:34, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 244):

The Chief Clerk squeezes his lips together until they turn white.

"No... and it's no use asking the Master of Coin where he last saw them.  He's... focused on his work."

From the man's stance and tone, he is clearly uncomfortable.

In reply to GM (msg # 245):

Damn...

Titus relaxes his stance and smiles disarmingly.

How do you like working for him?  Is he good to you?

He probes to see if he can get him talking about himself or his work, whichever puts him at ease.  Basic stuff what does he do for the master, is he good to him, how long has he been working there etc...
This message was last edited by the player at 13:21, Thu 25 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 246):

"Preoccupied or not, the man only goes to so many places every day," Brennan muses. "Surely some effort was made to retrieve any lost badges before going through the trouble and expense of procuring a new one?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 247):

The Chief Clerk assures you he likes his job and that the Master does indeed treat him fairly, generously even.

He seems rather confused by this line of questioning, but positively bristles at Brennan's.

"Certainly," he replies curtly.  "But following a man around looking for dropped possessions is no way to treat a Master of DuckTown."

"How far does he roam? Most of his work seemed to be in that office.  If that's where his focus is it strikes me as there'd be less following and more looking under papers to be done," Ciryl observes at the clerk's objections.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 249):

He frowns.

"If you happen across any missing property, I'm certain you will be amply rewarded, but don't presume I cannot do my job."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 249):

So lets say that someone with bad intentions were to get ahold of a badge.  What could they do with it?  Especially on the outskirts of town?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 251):

The Chief Clerk's frown does not fade.

"If someone WERE to find a badge, it would certainly be more use in the outskirts.  People there know the badge but might not know who's supposed to be wearing it."

In reply to GM (msg # 252):

I see...

Titus loses himself in thought.

/ooc I'm done with the clerk.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:24, Thu 25 Jan 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 253):

"I presume nothing," Brennan says, not backing away from the man in the slightest. "I did find such a badge -- in the outskirts, no less -- and turned it in to the Master of Arms. There was no reward for this, and many questions raised."

"I'm certain the badges would fetch a fine price to those who know how to make use of them, either within the town or in the outskirts. I find the apathetic attitude concerning them of a clearly organized person such as yourself to be quite alarming."

He narrows his eyes.

"I've taken this matter up with the Governor, who was concerned enough about recent events that he asked me to look into it further."

His eyes flick over to Pika for a moment, making the point.

"Now then. You can relax a bit. This isn't about whether or not you can do your job. Nobody's trying to replace you or get anyone in trouble. But the missing badges are a serious problem. They are being used to enable cult activity in conjunction with the kidnappings. And with the murders."

Brennan gauges the man's reaction to his last word carefully.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 254):

Brennan's tone snaps Titus out of his revery and he studies the man's face intently

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 255):

The man's eyes go wide.

"Murder?  But... I swear I have no idea what happened to... or when... all's I did was get replacements, that's all.  The Governor hisself would vouch for me!  I never even BEEN to those crapsack huts!"

In reply to GM (msg # 256):

Brennan nods quietly.

"Ok. Thank you for your help."

OOC: Ready to see whoever holds the mold or, if we've done that already and I've forgotten, the Smithy.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 257):

You find the smith working in one of the forges in town.  There are a few, mostly clustered to one side of DuckTown near the glassworks, tanner, and other stinky businesses.

Pika directs you to the right one, and it does indeed look to be the nicest establishment.  Where most of the smiths are working on blades, horseshoes, and tools, this one looks to focus on more intricate items such as joints and smaller tools.

The smith is a filthy but pleasant enough man who shakes your hand firmly, leaving a layer of black on your hand that refuses to wash off.

He says that he has the honor of working with the Guildmistress' Inspector to pound the badges of office, and also with the Master of Coin to pound tokens of Tax when needed (these are similar to money but used to show that you have provided DuckTown with the sufficient amount of goods for the year to account for their share).

He notes that he doesn't keep track of exactly how many of each he makes, but he does agree that a good number have been asked of him this year.

In reply to GM (msg # 258):

Brennan thanks the smithy for his help and, after waiting for others to share any questions they  might have, leads the group back to someplace quieter where they can talk.

"So. The Master of Coin's habit of misplacing badges is the obvious clue here. His assistants are the most likely culprits. Pika, what do you know about them? How long have they held their positions, what's your opinion of them, do they have families or a history of causing trouble or having shady tendencies?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 259):

"Oh, well..." Pika looks ruffled.  "I dunna have theer records with me, but I could confirm back at the Govornor's office, or with the Master of Coin's records.  As fer personally, I don't ken them well, though I work with the Chief Clerk often enough."

If you wish, you can have Pika go off and find specific records of salary/hire dates etc.

You will learn that all of the clerks have worked for the Master of Coin at least a couple years.  Pika is not aware of anything "shady" about any of them.

In reply to GM (msg # 260):

Brennan graciously accepts Pika's request to pull additional records, and inquires about the Master of Coin as well (how long has he lived here, what was his last job, what's the term of his current job, friends, family, etc.)

OOC: Beyond this, I'm stumped fellas. Any other ideas?

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 261):

The Master of Coin has lived in DuckTown his entire life, or at least most of it.  He was born in DuckTown, went to an Academy in NorthReach, then returned.

He serves at the pleasure of the Governor, and has done so for nearly twenty years.

In reply to GM (msg # 262):

"Thank you for all your help, Pika," Brennan says. "Do you think it would be possible to speak with the families whose children were taken?"

He frowns thoughtfully.

Maybe one or more aren't actually missing, but are members of a family involved in this meant to draw suspicion away from them...
This message was last edited by the player at 15:22, Mon 05 Feb 2018.

When Pika mentions going back to the Governor's office Ciryl perks up, "Oh that reminds me, could you give this to the Governor?" he offers her a small bottle he'd been carrying since his rendezvous with the rest of the group, "And when his cough returns tell him i'd be happy to sell him more, but a proper cure will need these," at which he offers her a piece of paper with a list written on it.

"Do you really think bothering the families will earn us anything other than some distraught wailing of mournful parents?" he asks Brennan, "I'm curious, you've been about town more than myself this morning when you met the various masters, you've noticed the carved gourds about town right?" he gestures to the nearest one at the front door of a building, "Did you see anywhere without?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 264):

"I think the families might have stories of what their children were doing or where they were when they vanished that might lead us somewhere, yes. Or possibly there are commonalities among the families -- perhaps they worked for the same person, or frequented the same places, or lived near each other."

Brennan sighs.

"These kidnappings are very unlikely to be totally random. The cult would either be sending a message to specific people to ensure compliance for future task assignments or perhaps punish them for resisting. And of course if they care about the purity of their targets they'd want to be sure of that, too. Though I can't imagine that would be much of an issue for the younger ones."

When Cyril mentions the decorations, he perks up.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't noticed something like that. What would you believe that to signify?"

"Well they're an old tradition, a superstition of sorts.  They're supposed to scare off evil spirits.  The sort like Springheel Jack, I'd think.  If your cult is dealing in dark spirits they may not want to chase them off."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 266):

Brennan nods.

"Good point. Let's keep our eyes out for anyplace missing the gourds, too, then."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 267):

Titus bangs his head against the door.

I'm such an idiot, I can believe I missed the gourds entirely...Let's go see the families.  I doubt it will help but...

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 268):

Pika remains at attention.

"Records kan help find all the faamilies but... I don't ken it will do more'n make some parents very unhappy."

In reply to GM (msg # 269):

Brennan considers Pika's statement.

"If your child was lost, and the guards were looking for them...you wouldn't want to help in whatever way you could? Surely their sense of helplessness contributes to their misery. This could at least alleviate that, and perhaps gives us answers besides."

He drums his fingers on a nearby hardtop absently.

"Still. If you're all opposed to the idea, I'll abide with dropping it."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 270):

Pika screws up her face in contemplation.

"I dunna have kids," she explains simply, "So I don't know."

In reply to GM (msg # 271):

Brennan sighs.

"Thank you for all of your help, Pika. I would like to talk to the families of the last 3 kidnappings, starting with the most recent."

OOC: Unless we need to do the meetings in detail, all Brennan wants to know is 1) what the families have been doing since the kidnappings in terms of looking for their kid; 2) any suspicions they have as to enemies they or their daughter might have had; 3) do they have gourds placed?; 4) have they heard of Springheel Jack?; 5) Have they or the kids ever visited the slums outside the gates; 6) Do they know who Keller is?; 7) Last time they saw their daughter; 8) ransom notes or any strange contacts they've had SINCE the kidnapping.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:44, Thu 08 Feb 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 272):

I'd like to know where they last saw their kids?  What time did they disappear (morning, evening, middle of night)?  I'll look for similarities in the personality of the parents.  Also on the look out for recent signs of either affluence or poverty (e.g. brand new clock on the mantle or a recently empty looking mantle).

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 273):

You spend a good amount of time traversing DuckTown tracking down the girls' parents.

Most need to be found in their places of work, etc.

All are cooperative, but seem very confused as to why YOU are the ones investigating.  Pika helps to smooth things over.

The families have this in common: they are distraught and in mourning.

The conversations are, largely, very painful as you are probing into their recent misery.  A better writer could have a field day going into details.

1. All have implored the Master of Arms to search the area and the slums, which he has.  All have reached out to everyone they know but have no solid leads.  Rumors are that it is Southron spies, Ogres, or (most likely) some "filth" from the slums.

2. All of their daughters were "lovely" or some variation on that.  "Innocent" is used a lot.

3. 2 out of 3 do.  If you ask, the 3rd says they forgot to put one out this year.

4. One parent has heard the name: Springheel Jack, she says, is a demon said to attack people at night, especially children or the elderly.

5.  "Absolutely not!  She's a good girl!"

6. Nope

7. The day before their disappearance: all of them vanished at night.

8. Nope

In reply to GM (msg # 274):

Brennan asks follow-up questions on the nighttime disappearances. Did they vanish from their room? If so, was there a sign of a struggle? Windows present? Shuttered? (I'm assuming no glass). Was anything taken from the home other than the child? Were the parents home when it happened? Siblings? How far away were they from the child's room? Did these children have their OWN room (a rarity in small towns like this I'd wager).

Or, if not taken from the home, where were the daughters at night when they were taken? I take it there's not much for little girls to be doing outside of the home after dinner in a town like this.

EDIT: Is the gourdless home also the Springheel Jack home?
This message was last edited by the player at 15:24, Thu 08 Feb 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 275):

No, the home without a gourd is not the same family that has heard of Springheel Jack.

Correct, the girls were thought to be sound asleep and found to be missing in the morning.

No evidence of anyone breaking in, nobody in the house heard anything at all.

One house found the door left open and unlocked in the morning.

In reply to GM (msg # 276):

Brennan asks the families if the girls had made any new friends in the days leading up to the girls' disappearance. And asks also for a few names of the girls' existing friends to question...

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 277):

Not that they're aware of.  Kids from all over DuckTown play together most of the time, when they're not working, and the parents don't know all of them.

One of the girls, as you learned earlier, worked on the docks.  Her employed did agree that there were more young boys than usual hanging around before she vanished, but he didn't know any of them or pay them much mind.

In reply to GM (msg # 278):

"Pika, what did the Master of Arms think about this whole business of the girls letting themselves out the days they vanished?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 279):

Titus looks at Brennan as his brow knots in his typical contemplative look.  He starts humming under his breath.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 280):

"The reports were sparse," Pika replies.  "Most logical konklusion is they went out to make water and were taken then."

Interviews with the parents do not dispute this assumption.

In reply to GM (msg # 281):

Brennan nods and thanks Pika for her help.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 282):

Titus gathers the group around close...

Guys, I think that we have officially exhausted this line of ideas.  Perhaps it might be a good idea for the group to split.  I'll stake out the bank, Ciryl can go to the slums, and Brennan do you think the docks may be a good idea to check out?

Ciryl while you are in the slums, I am DYING to know why they needed a badge of office.  It's obviously not to summon the demon... right?  *looks at Brennan*  Its not like their houses are closely monitored and he would use it to avoid detection... so he was likely throwing his weight around somewhere. 

/OOC what time of day is it?

Ciryl nods at Titus's suggestion, "Sure, fine. I don't want to know what you all got up to out there without me.  You said he could change how he looks, mind if I borrow him for the trip?" Ciryl points at Deev.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 284):

"I'm beginning to suspect the badge's role in this is to trick the girls into leaving their homes in the first place," Brennan says. "Or to provide access elsewhere that would normally be forbidden."