Just north of the gate to DuckTown, the small road rejoins the larger one that ran along the side of DuckTown, and you are once again on a large well-beaten highway.

To the east, the mountains continue to loom.  To the west, you see the topmost portion of the lake, which is a reedy swampland dotted with small scraggly trees.

You walk past farmland for a mile or so, primarily gourds, corn, and fruit trees long since picked over.

Once you have passed the last farmhouse, there is little travel on the road.  Still, the soil is freshly torn by boot and horseshoe.  It remains clear that a large force passed through here recently.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:09, Thu 14 June 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 1):

Brennan nods thoughtfully at the tracks and tries to calculate how large a force they may be dealing with here.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 2):

Brennan's estimation is at least a couple dozen horses plus the population of a small village.

In reply to GM (msg # 3):

"Refugees, then?" he muses aloud. "Well, there's nothing for it. Come heaven or hell, we must reach Losthelm."

He turns to Titus.

"Your understanding is that Jack believes you to be leading us away from the town, and thus he won't mind losing your services for a time? Is that the whole truth, Titus? Now is not the time for secrets."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 4):

Bryce frowns, uncharacteristically focused.

"The words he used lad, and those you used, might give us a clue as to the deal you REALLY agreed to... or maybe not.  That's the problem with the tongue of the Kingdom: demons find it imprecise."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Sun 17 June 2018.

"So do I.  It's boon and bane," Ciryl chimes in as he leads his cart, "I was trying to choose my words very carefully before you made a damned ass of yourself."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Mon 18 June 2018.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 6):

Titus takes a half bow at Bryce.  The figurative cat that ate the canary.

I haven't spoken a word to Jack since our initial agreement.  I've mostly been... taking dictation.

The first agreement was gold for silence... at least thats what he said.

The second agreement was

""I gave you gold for silence, now I shall give you breath for another service..."

"You will make sure the priest is not bothered, nor the boys who scurry about this town.  You will protect them from the Masters and from your friends or..."

That or... makes me concerned.  But I have warned him about the masters and advised him to act accordingly and taken you out of the equation.  I haven't articulated this to him.

I asked for more than money in the beginning, but he said we can deal in that later.

Is it possible to get a reputation among demons?

Titus asks inquisitive.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 7):

Bryce only shakes his head.

You continue on through the midday meal, and shortly after you begin to see the forest in the distance.

A half mile or so from the treeline you see a few longhouses made of rough-hewn logs.  Based on the tools and piles of logs you see, you judge this to be a logging camp, most likely selling wood in DuckTown.

A few men work sharpening axes or repairing a cart.  They look up and nod in a friendly but disinterested manner as you approach.

It is mid-afternoon.  The forest begins shortly and you have plenty of daylight to continue pushing north if you choose.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:49, Thu 28 June 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 8):

"Only demons can be notorious among their own kind," Brennan shrugs. "They neither respect nor fear humanity in the slightest. We are, to them, merely chattel. That's part of why the so badly resent being summoned and bound to a human's will. But that's not to say demons can't come to know you. Generally that only happens if you're known to be 'fun' to work with...or if another demon wants your head."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 9):

"Well that's.... that sounds horrible!"

In reply to Deev (msg # 10):

"It is," Brennan nods. "The last thing you want is for demons to know your name...unless you have the means by which to control them."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 11):

Titus looks vaguely disturbed by Brennan's last proclamation. He changes the subject as he looks around.

We have sufficient provisions?  Is there any reason to tarry here?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 12):

"There is much daylight left, but I would speak with these woodsman for a moment," Brennan says, heading over to the logging camp.

"Good afternoon! We can't help but notice an awful lot of tracks upon the trail today," he says to the nearest woodsman. "But we've seen no one at all ourselves. Tell me, have you seen a caravan or army or similar pass by recently?"

"Guess it's a good thing you didn't tell him your name, huh 'Lord Fastbender?'" Ciryl says smugly as Brennan goes to address the locals.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 13):

The woodsmen exchange a few glances, and seem to think hard about how best to answer.

"Few days back, a small lot on horse come through here, driving maybe half a hundred people and their belongings.

Soldiers were for Xander, used his banner anyhow, didn't have much to say to us, but the people being led didn't seem none too happy."

His companion adds, "You sure not from Ducktown, where you headed?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:27, Mon 02 July 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 15):

Titus makes a sneer at Ciryl.  Then scrunches his face in thought

I... honestly don't know... would I rather them know my name or my pseudonym?

This is half an honest question for Brennan.  He approaches the loggers with Brennan.

Not happy as in my house just got destroyed not happy or more an I'm being driven at swordpoint not happy?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 16):

"It depends a lot on the strength of the demon, and the demon's friends, and those who owe that demon a favor. Humans are more or less currency for them when it suits their needs."

He turns from Titus to address the loggers.

"We're making for Losthelm ourselves. I hear the ruins are well worth the trip. Any pointers for first-timers?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 17):


"More at swordpoint, I'd say," the woodcutter replies.

OOC: since it's been a while, I'll remind you those in DuckTown reported the same host and that you came across a cleared-out town and some of Xander's scouts.

"Never been to the ruins," he adds, "though most of those come through on their way there have more books with then than you... and fewer swords."

In reply to GM (msg # 18):

Titus smiles breezily at the latter comment.

We are hoping not to be lead away from there by swordpoint.

Any idea where they came from?  I'd rather avoid trouble. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 19):

They shake their heads.  "Didn't seem the sort that like questions."

In reply to GM (msg # 20):

Brennan nods his thanks and, after inquiring about exactly when this host passed through, seems content to depart.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 21):

Know what you mean...

Titus chats amicably for a few minutes.  He's ready whenever Brennan is.

Ciryl sighs atop his wagon, "I thought we were in a hurry.  Do they chat up every random sod they pass by?" He looks at Deev and Bryce quizzically.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 23):

"Seems that way," Bryce notes with a wrt smile.  "Though usually, it seems, for good reason."

In reply to GM (msg # 24):

Once the logger confirms how long ago the host passed by, he leads the group onward toward Losthelm.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 25):

You continue to walk past the loggers, and soon enough have reached the edge of the forest, which is preceded by many acres of freshly-made stumps.

The trees are towering and old, though thinner than those you have been seeing until now.  The ecological significance of this, if any, is lost on you.

The road is wide and well trampled, making travel easy.  The canopy above is beginning to turn colors, giving the light a muted and mottled quality.

You continue to walk until the light begins to fade, at which point it is prudent to make camp.

In reply to GM (msg # 26):

"No fire tonight, unless Cyril has a way to do it inside his tent where it won't be seen," Brennan cautions as the group breaks to make camp. "We'll set watch in pairs, and continue onward at first light."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 27):

Titus heaves a sigh rubbing his neck.

Another fucking night... lets hope this is better than the last.

He seems a bit muted as he goes about his business helping everyone make camp and prepping food.

...Gold for silence... next breath for protection...

He mutters every once and a while as if turning this over in his head.

Ciryl quirks an eyebrow at Brennan, "Invisible fire is well beyond anything I know how to make.  I mentioned how I sell medicine, right?"

He makes no actual argument about the fire though, mostly happy to have more company than his mule as they camp in the wilds.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 29):

Eventually Titus senses an audience... of a sort... in Ciryl and snaps back to becoming good company.  He tells some stories, sings some songs, quietly of course since we are incognito, but no less beautiful.  He fills Ciryl in on a mostly accurate, but polished verson of what has happened to the team in the past.  He looks to queues for Brennan of areas to avoid.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 30):

"It doesn't have to be invisible fire if it's inside a cart," Brennan shrugs. "But if you do not need to cook your ingredients when you brew, we will make do with the rations we have."

"Nothing I'd call a camp fire.  It takes a lot to make a flame very small and very hot, and I won't waste it on stew just to be inconspicuous." Ciryl clarifies with a shake of his head.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 32):

The Path through the Woods

In the fading light you make camp, huddling primarily around Ciryl's cart and with the horses tied up along the treeline nearby.

The night begins uneventfully, with the few hours passing in silence save for the wind in the trees above and the last crickets of fall.

This relative quiet is broken quite suddenly by a loud crashing and an equally loud scream that fades quickly into the distance.

Brennan, Ciryl, Deev, and Bryce are quickly awake and alert.  There is little light from the sky through the trees, and they are forced to either search in the dark or light torches.

Either way, they cannot find Titus.

"Sounded like he... flew away back the way we come..." Bryce notes.

The Logging Camp

Titus is awoken by strong hands and a sudden whoosh of air.  He lets out a long scream but is moving so quickly he can't be sure it makes any sound at all.

Titus squirms and grasps but is dashed suddenly by an impact and subsequent relaunch into the air.  Each time he catches his breath he is similarly jarred until finally, he is sent sprawling and rolling across a dirty road.

Coughing, he pulls himself up.  Not far away are a series of long log houses.  There is no tree cover, the stars are exposed and the air is cold.  Titus soon realizes he is somehow back at the logging camp the group passed hours before.

"Feel up to walking now?" a familiar voice growls from the dark, "Or must Jack carry you all the way home?"

In reply to GM (msg # 33):

Brennan rubs his eyes to get the sleep out of them and sighs.

"We can't fly," he says simply. "If whatever took him can, it's probably a demon -- either Jack or a subordinate. By the time we caught up with them, Titus will have already been dealt his demonic punishment or will have escaped by his own power. And the Inquisition will make Ducktown tomorrow."

Brennan drums his fingers against a nearby log.

"I don't mean to be callus, but I see no benefit to following him. There is nothing we can do for him. We're too far away, unable to actually help him if it IS Jack, and we'd be courting ruin upon ourselves in the process. Besides...Titus is one of the Chosen. I have the power to pull his soul back if it leaves the mortal coil."

He clears his throat.

"Keep watch while I meditate on this, just to be certain."

Brennan takes a sip from the cup, assumes his traditional meditative position, and  attempts to unravel this mystery.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:46, Mon 09 July 2018.

Ciryl huffs at Brennan's revelation of the cause of the disturbance and quickly goes about affixing his leg before hitching his cart back up to his mule, "Damn fool," he mutters to himself as he works, apparently ignoring Brennan's conclusion about Titus's fate.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 35):

"I... but... where did he GO?  Back to DuckTown?" Deev splutters.

"S'where he came from," Ciryl confirms without pause.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 37):

Brennan's eyes flutter open after a rather short trance.

"This Jack has been here a long time. Long enough that his true name is lost. Or, more accurately, that his true name is now 'Jack'. We've established that, yes?"

He frowns.

"So this once-and-future demon is anchored in this Dream now, by virtue of the bargains he has made. The gold. The service. It's neat and tidy. The words are meaningless in this bargain."

Brennan rises to his feet.

"And that's unique among demonic encounters -- a pact sealed in this way. Take the gold and he gains power over you. Reject it, and he does not. We've seen him directly harm no one who wasn't already under his power, right?"

Brennan glances back in the direction of Ducktown.

"What I do not know, however, is whether giving the gold back releases you from the pact. I'd suspect not, otherwise you could spend the gold and be free from his influence."

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

"None of that will help us reach Titus quickly, though. Nor does it help us release him from the grave he's dug for himself."

Brennan looks over at Cyril.

"It is far too dark yet to travel. Your animals could get hurt, your cart damaged. What are you planning to accomplish?"

"I'll light a torch," Ciryl replies irritably as he finishes harnessing he tired mule before turning and digging around his cart for something. "I plan to help," he says as he emerges, using a small metal device that apparently contains some flint, judging by the sparks it makes as he indeed lights a torch.  Ciryl tosses the lighter into the cart and picks up his cane before swinging it to strike the side of his cart, causing the sign to fall open.

Without even looking he points his cane at the sign in the torchlight, underscoring the word "Miracles" on the advertisement, "That's what I do.  That's all I do and neither the inquisition, nor demons, nor you are going to convince me to leave worse enough alone.  Shouldn't've bloody left just because you got spooked.  Leaving a town to a demon, running from the inquisition like we're guilty of witchcraft.  Ever since I met you lot I've been spinning in circles and I'm done with it!  I've done right by everybody I've ever met unless they've done wrong by me first.  Only demon I've ever spoken to was that great smoky bastard, and if that makes me a God damned witch so be it.  If not, I've nothing to fear from the inquisition.  I'm going to go do right by that idiot and the rest of that town like I should have already."  Ciryl mounts up on his wagon and looks balefully at Brennan. "You go be a prophet.  I'll go be a decent man.  We'll see who's better for it," he spares Deev and Bryce a glance, hitching his chin toward the cart, giving any of the three a chance to join him before heading off.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 39):

"There's nothing decent about getting yourself killed," Brennan snorts. "You'll be hung for witchcraft like the rest of us, not because you talk to demons, but because you are one of the Chosen. You GLOW, you fool, and they can SEE IT."

He jabs a finger in the direction of Ducktown.

"You're a businessman, not a idealist. What can we do to help him? What actual concrete action can we take to save a man whisked away in the dead of night by a demonic creature with which he made a bargain he's backed out of?!"

Brennan makes a circling "get on with it" gesture with his hand.

"I'm listening! But it's a whole day's travel, Cyril! Longer, by night. We'd reach the gates utterly exhausted just in time to doff our caps to Titus's impaled head on the gate before being tied up for a proper bonfire of our own. THIS, I foresee, not salvation for our friend, but doom upon us all!"

Brennan narrows his eyes slightly, confident he has at least Bryce's support in the matter of not wanting to be burnt to death by the Inquisition, and gestures toward the cart.

"So unless you have a PLAN to go with this fool's errand, one strong enough to warp the bands of fate, I think we'd better talk about how many of our supplies you plan on riding off to die with."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:31, Mon 09 July 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 40):

Bryce scratches his head.

"Charity'll get ya nothing with the Inquisition," he points out to Ciryl.  "I don't have your crazy gifts, and I want nothin' to do with them."

In reply to GM (msg # 41):

"But... he's alive?  We could still help.  He should know enough to keep away from Inquisitors and... well if Jack wanted to kill him we'd have a corpse here, right?"

"If they can see it they'll be the first who don't glow themselves.  Maybe the inquisition has better answers than you if they can." He looks at Bryce with a grin, "Charity goes farther than you might believe.  I just spent three days convincing that town I'm a doctor, and a good one.  If they call me a witch in the middle of that market they'll have a hard case to make."  He looks back at Brennan, "I don't know what you think you were chosen to do, but the First Men fought demons, they didn't run and expect them to resolve themselves.  I don't know too many old stories but I'm fairly certain king Hyrium never shrugged and said it was all for naught if he heard one of his men had been spirited away in the dark.  If we're supposed to be like them than I for one will bloody well act like it.  If Jack is bound to this dream by his bargains then I'll go make a deal for Titus.  Should be easy, I've traded pisswater for more valuable things.  As for your last question, I'll only be taking the supplies in my cart." with that, Ciryl cracks the reins of his mule.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 18:04, Mon 09 July 2018.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 43):

Titus slowly stands up, gaining his bearings and wiping off his clothing.

You said gold for silence.... I said nothing.

You said next breath for protection.  I sent the old man a note that the master of arms was coming for him.  I took his primary threat of Brennan and Ciryl away from him.  I Gave him information and performed actions to protect him and his orphans from the masters and others.

He looks around contemptuously and starts walking like an affronted cat back towards Ducktown.

Look you want my help you need to give me more than peicemail instructions.
 What are you after in that shithole town anyway?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 44):

The Dark Road

Jack cackles, the soft burning glow in his eyes and mouth the only indication of his location in the darkness.

"It seems you can be taught, Jack may not kill you after all.  When you're back in my town, we'll discuss your next tasks... and the rewards you will reap for obedience."

In reply to GM (msg # 45):

I'm stubborn, not stupid. 

Titus says as they walk he looks around at the dark road and the nobody around.

Why wait until we are in town?  There's noone here, where better to speak your mind Jack?

I heard a story of a demon who was bound to town because the podium on the town square was built on his cock and he could only travel as far from the square as he could stand to stretch it.  Is that true?

I want to know if the stories about demons are true...

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 46):

"That depends on what kind of a message he wanted to send," Brennan says to Deev. He watches the cart begin to lurch away and does a quick inventory of his own supplies and how far they'll take him...
This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Mon 09 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 46):

The Dark Road

There is a sound from Jack like coals being stoked with a poker.

"The man wants a plan, is that so?  In no position to demand, but Jack can be gracious.  Talk about the way you departed my home, quite the scene, talk about why and Jack may reply."

In reply to GM (msg # 48):

Deev nods.

"Still..."

He dithers for a moment, then finally takes off after Ciryl.

In reply to Deev (msg # 49):

"So. Damn. Close," he snarls, stomping off after the cart. "You know the moment in the stories when the heroes shrug and ask 'who wants to live forever, anyway?' I do!"

He beckons for Bryce to follow.

"Come on. We can't make it as far as we need to go on our supplies alone. One way or the other, we've got to stay with the cart."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:07, Mon 09 July 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 48):

Not a demand a request.  We are having a discussion.

In response to Jack asking about how he left...

C'mon Jaaack....

as if explaining something that is obvious.

I gave the people a bigger threat than either.  How has the town been since the display?  Has anyone at all come sniffing around at your priest or the children?  I'd wager no.  I'd wager they are trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.  People are easy to manipulate Jack, you know this.  When they are scared doubly so.  There is opportunity in panic.  You of all people should know this... er... uh demons?

he ends lamely.

/ooc: What time is it?  How far from town am I?  How long will it take me to get back?  I haven't seen anyone other than Jack right?  Is anyone else around?
This message was last edited by the player at 12:17, Tue 10 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 51):

The Logging Camp Road

"Tut, tut, glowing one.  Mind your manners, watch your feet.  The road back home is long."

OOC: It took you several hours to walk this far earlier today, but it is now dark and you are exhausted so it will take longer, likely until sunup.  There is nobody around, but the logging camp is right next to you.


Forest Road

"Madness..." Bryce mutters.  "You lot can head back if you wish, I'll go no closer than the logging camp.  If you make it back, I'll save a drink for you."

OOC: Sounds like everyone else is headed back toward DuckTown?

In reply to GM (msg # 52):

Let me leave a message Jack... it wouldn't do for you to ruin my plan by bringing my friends back into this.

Titus gathers up some rocks and makes an X across the path he also gets a peice of his paper and a charcoal and writes a note, folding it over.  On the outside he writes in block letters.  He stabs it into a conspicuous location on a tree easy to see from the path.



Why are you taking me back?  To what end?  I mean... hear me out... if its something that can be done quickly we can jet back and complete the task.  If its anything more involved than this you're going to have to let me sleep or I'm not going to be worth much to you.  I get sloppy if I'm too tired.  Let me sleep tonight and I'll complete the trek in tomorrow ready to be of service.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:30, Tue 10 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 53):

"The logging camp may be as far as we need to go," Brennan murmurs to Bryce.

I just need time to think...

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 54):

Logging Camp

Jack does not interfere with Titus' message-leaving.

"No," is the only response Titus gets to his request for rest or answers.

Forest Path

Bryce shrugs and follows.

In reply to GM (msg # 55):

Titus walks slowly, sandbagging as much as possible.

For once in my life I'll be happy to see the inquisition.

As he trudges he tries to make small talk with jack.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 56):

Forest Path

The bulk of the party begins the slow march through the darkness back toward DuckTown.

Path in the Open

Jack doesn't force Titus to move at any particular speed, as long as he's still moving.

Jack answers some questions, though usually vaguely and always flippantly.

"Demons are like Angels, and like you expect them to be."

"Hell is other people, Hell is just a Dream, pay it no mind."

"Who's trying to get out?  Maybe they're trying to get IN."

Often Titus cannot be sure if Jack is still with him or has wandered off for chunks of time.

OOC: what do you want to ask?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:42, Tue 10 July 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 57):

Forest Path

Brennan, Ciryl, Deev, and Bryce trudge slowly and carefully south, back toward DuckTown.

Going is slow in the dark, but not overly difficult.

Before the sun has started to rise, you see the dark silhouettes of loggers buildings.

Shortly thereafter, you find Titus' note.

OOC:  You are now ahead of Titus a little, FYI, though he's already long gone from here

In reply to GM (msg # 58):

Brennan scoops up the note and shares its contents with the group.

He is increasingly agitated, though his ultimate reaction at this point will depend on what the note actually says.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 59):

The note is as follows:

SHOW THIS TO BRENNAN OR CYRIL TRAVELING THIS PATH TO RECEIVE A CHIP

The inside of the note is written in Titus' flowery hand:

Turn back, go to Losthelm.  I'll find you... if I can.  Give the bearer of this note 1 chip.

It's signed with his usual flair

In reply to GM (msg # 60):

"There, you see? Titus has either decided to work with Jack after all or has the matter well in hand," Brennan says, passing the note along to the others. "There's no reason for us to get ourselves burnt at the stake after all."

"He thought he had the matter well in hand when he made his proposal in the first place.  Do you really believe he's any kind of judge of what condition he's in, or are you just that scared of an encounter with the inquisition?" Ciryl asks, not looking happy about having stopped, but appreciating that the others turned back with him despite themselves.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 62):

Brennan sighs, crumpling the letter into a ball.

"There's still nothing we can do to help Titus. And you're damn right I'm afraid of the Inquisition! They know what we look like. They know our names, where we've been, what we've done. They'll confiscate all of the materials I've collected leading up to journey to Losthelm, without which I will have great difficulty unraveling its secrets. On top of all that, we could easily be blamed for the cult activity despite evidence that we tried to help. This whole road is paved with folly."

He looks back over his shoulder at the road to Losthelm, clearly tempted to tug on his horses reigns and get on with it, but he restrains himself.

"I do not understand what you think we can achieve by going back. You've known Titus for less than a week. You'd die for him?"

"I've known the people in that town for less, I intend to save them from the demon too.  You say you can bring Titus back from whatever dream welcomes him in death, you'll have to excuse me if I don't believe it.  When I learned alchemy I thought  very similarly.  It was like magic.  I could cure disease, fix everything that ails man or woman.  Then I made a mistake, just a slip of the hand, but it blew everything I owned to hell.  I knew enough to stop the pain and the bleeding, but there was no medicine to fix my leg being charred and in pieces.  Some things can't be undone, and leaving Jack in that town is one.  Maybe meeting the inquisition is one too, and maybe I can't do anything to stop a demon, but I'm not the one who made my new leg either.  I wouldn't have this," he raps his wooden leg soundly, "If I just ignored my problems, and the carpenter who did make it would've done a damn shite job if I hadn't told him all I knew about how a leg was supposed to work.  Now you can either go, and stop slowing me down, or we can both fix this.  You keep talking about what you can't do to Jack how about starting with what you can?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 64):

Deev's head bobs enthusiastically.

"Aye... what he said!"

In reply to Deev (msg # 65):

Brennan shoots a glare at Deev, then runs his hand over his face and pulls downward wearily.

"Creating a circle capable of binding Jack would take hours, and it might not even work. He's not a proper demon. If I knew how to banish him via any reasonable method, I would have already done so."

He grumbles as they continue to press on toward Ducktown.

"I was expelled from the Academy, you know. They have watch lists for people like me," he says after a moment. "And it certainly won't help that we are still carrying around equipment that used to belong to an Inquisitor and his Paladin. They...misplaced said items some time ago in Thorngate."

Brennan glances at Cyril dryly.

"Oh, did Titus decide against retelling that particular story? It was for a good cause, and it has a fascinating moral: We are going to be hung from the nearest tree and burnt alive. The only part that's in doubt is which will kill us first."

"What if he was a proper demon?  What would you do to him, exactly?  There's got to be something you can do to a demon other than send him home or hold him still," Ciryl suggests as Brennan brings up the subject of a binding circle again.

When Brennan mentions the inquisitorial equipment and spares him a glance, Ciryl rolls his eyes, "The both of you have barely told me a damn thing about you.  When we first met you lied about who you were and brutalized some boys on the road, I've never though you a bunch of saints.  What equipment are you carrying, exactly?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 67):

"Oh, odds and ends. Clothing. Weapons. Poisons. Notes. Things that have proven helpful in the past, and will prove helpful enough in the future that I'm not willing to part with them."

He moves on to the more important conversation.

"Demons can be banished, bound, killed, or bargained with," Brennan says. "The most common application of this is with a summoning ritual. You bind them to this Dream and to your service such that severing one severs the other. Keeps you safe...relatively speaking."

"Jack doesn't make deals the way demons are supposed to. He uses the common tongue, for starters. And he deals in gold-for-service rather than obsidian, blood, souls, and such. It's almost like he's summoning humans, if that makes any sense, rather than the other way around."

"Making matters worse is that he's bargaining from a position of power. He's been here a while, he knows how weak and gullible and greedy humans are. He knows they can be bought, and he's got plenty to spare. And all he seems to want is a steady supply of virgin souls, which we are both unwilling and unable to provide him as collateral to a new bargain.

Here, Brennan frowns.

"Though...Ducktown isn't large enough to sustain the loss of a girl a week forever. These disappearances are a new thing. The town's not resigned to them, it's angry about them. So where was Jack up 'til now? Did he want the same things? There are many unanswered questions."

He snaps back to the present.

"But I digress. Whatever his motives, Jack wields real power in this Dream. He doesn't have a circle that binds him here. He probably can't be banished at all. So that leaves bargaining with him, attempting to control him (which is often just another form of bargaining), or killing him."

Brennan inclines his shoulders slightly.

"And I don't know how to kill something that looks and moves like smoke. We can't rely on immunity to his power by virtue of not taking him up on his deal, either. The girls he consumed didn't, and they died just the same."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Wed 11 July 2018.

"You could hide the poisons in my cart. Probably the notes too, I've got some books at scratches of my own," Ciryl says with a shrug as Brennan moves on.

"So what goes wrong summoning demons?" Ciryl asks as Brennan explains the situation, "I mean with witches and demonspeakers, aside from being illegal and trouble with the inquisition, there's always stories of how demons run wild killing folk and turn against their masters, how do they do that if stepping out of line just poofs them back to hell?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 69):

"Most people who summon demons are greedy, desperate, or both. They make hasty bargains and do not fully understand what they are asking for. Often when a demon runs wild, it is still technically within the bounds of its contract...though its summoner may disagree with that interpretation."

Brennan nods somberly.

"Some foolish souls forgo the circle entirely. It's evidence, you see, and it takes a long time to create one. But if you do manage to summon something successfully without a circle -- which is difficult -- you then lack the protection the circle provides by acting as a conduit for the ritual."

He blinks as an idea strikes him.

"I know of no circle that expressly banishes a demon, but I do know how to visit other Dreams. Summoning Jack to another Dream would remove him from this one, perhaps forever. Though I shouldn't think the denizens of his new home would thank me for that."

Ciryl is queit after Brennan's idea, "Do you think the inquisition would thank me if I gave you to them?" he asks curiously, but holds up a hand before Brennan can object, "You said demons can be notorious among their own kind.  What if Jack is known in Hell?  What if he's not well liked?  I wouldn't think to summon a worse demon here, but if you can send him away, could we send him to something worse?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 71):

"Jack is not a demonic name. If he was known in hell, it was probably as some other identity -- one long forgotten by Jack himself, I wager. But yes, there are worse demons in Hell and we could indeed send him there. I suspect he would not adapt well to being back in a Dream he had thought he'd escaped for good. And, of course, we would need sufficient time in the Dream of Hell to complete the ritual, unmolested. The circles PULL, they don't PUSH. That in and of itself may require another bargain to be made with another demon."

Brennan frowns thoughtfully, as though pondering if perhaps a circle COULD be made to push after all.

He then shakes his head and assesses Cyril carefully.

"And I believe the Inquisition would put you to the question even if you turned me over to them. You already know more than a lay person should about demons..."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:21, Wed 11 July 2018.

Ciryl lets out his breath as he sits in silence for a moment, "Well, that's an idea, but spending hours in hell is hardly inviting.  You said you had weapons from the inquisition, aren't they supposed to kill demons?  Anything that might work on him?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 73):

"That's a common misconception," Brennan says grimly. "The Inquistion's tools are designed to be used against demonspeakers, not demons. They are used to elicit confessions, mostly. The only proper weapon we obtained was the paladin's sword, but Titus carried it with him."

"And is that all they use if a demonspeaker has a demon to aid them?  Swords?  And hammers I suppose?  Does that mean Jack is the only demon made of smoke and shadows?  Surely they have means if some kind of witch puts up a real fight, don't they?" Ciryl asks, a bit incredulous.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 75):

"Like I said, most witches and demonspeakers are short-sighted, greedy, and unwise," Brennan says. "Those who pursue the trade for...strictly academic purposes...are few and far between. But the vast majority of those who DO go on to work for the Inquisition itself."

He shrugs.

"Inquisitors have graduated from the Academy. They don't have to hide in dark holes scrounging for third-hand translations of demonic texts. They have primary sources. They speak Fel. They likely have their own proprietary Circles. They can make bargains with demons that limit the harm the demon can cause, often at the summoner's expense. They know that they can force the summoner to give the demon new orders at swordpoint, and that obliterating the circle will banish the demon to Hell. In these ways, along with mundane weapons, they do battle with the Dream of Hell."

Brennan notes Cyril's expression.

"Yes, it would be comforting to think that the Inquisition equipped its paladins with demonsbane blades and knew secret words and phrases that would make them dance like puppets on a line, but I'm afraid that's just not the case. The only supernatural powers I know them to posses is the ability to see through one another's eyes, by use of a special tool. It's hard, dangerous business to kill a demon, and that's one of the reasons they are so diligent about preventing their summoning in the first place."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Wed 11 July 2018.

"Comfort, aye, but at this point I would settle for a convenient solution to the whole mess," Ciryl grumbles.  "There's got to be something else to this.  Is it always a circle that binds a demon?  What about the scrawl on those boys' arm?  Could Jack be bound to something different?"  Ciryl pauses, "Or, if he's doing this all backwards already, instead of making a circle to keep him in, could we make one that keeps him out?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 77):

Titus walks alongside Jack excited about his first chance to meet a demon.  He of course interjects some combination of a stiff spine and a touch of obsequiousness Jack seems to like backbone and praise.

If hell is other people, then are demons just people?  Why are you all so different?

How did you come between the dreams?

Are there towns in hell?  Cities?  Churches?  What are they like?

What happens to the humans in hell?  Do they stay there forever?

He thinks back on what he's seen for a moment

There were people in town with writing on their arms... I heard it was fel... did you do that?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 78):

Nearing DuckTown

Jack chuckles.

"You are an inquisitive one, grasping at threads already part of another garment.

I never came, I have always been, the dreams are a lie told by old men too tired to think of something else to say.

I haven't been to Hell in a while, maybe if you get there you can write me about it?

There's no need fearing Hell, like as not you'll all end up there."

Between answers there are long bouts of silence, and Titus is fairly certain that Jack is somehow leaping away suddenly and then just as suddenly returning from great distances.

"Those people worked for the fat clerk, such a pity about him.  Their markings were false, but not the clerk or the priest, they made the same deal as you."

Jack chuckles again.

"It will be light soon, and I will see you when the sun is abed.  When your weak eyes are ready, I suggest you inspect your arm.  It may help you to remember not to stray."

Jack vanishes, jumping off for the last time.

As he said, Titus can see the first fleeting signs of light above the horizon, and just in view, the walls of DuckTown.

In reply to GM (msg # 79):

fuuuuuuuck.....

Titus says as he looks at the walls of Duck Town

What did you get yourself into now?

He trudges back towards ducktown, but instead of going to the town proper he goes to find the priest that he sent the boys to.  He strays from the main road trying to stay far afield incase the inquisition comes.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:12, Thu 12 July 2018.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 77):

"Like I said, a circle isn't strictly necessary for summoning. Just prudent."

"There are circles that keep demons at bay. I even know how to create such a thing," Brennan says. "The problem is that they only work against the weakest demons, and Jack is not among them."

He ponders the rest of the question.

"The tattoos were more likely just cult adornments. It's odd to see such things, as a cultist becomes much less useful to the cult if they have an outward sign of affiliation on them. I've not heard of such things being used to bind demons or men -- though the idea of somehow inking a permanent circle to flesh is...intriguing."

"What keeps Jack here is likely the bargains he makes. But as I said, even severing all such links still might not banish him. He's been here so long, it might be 'home'."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Thu 12 July 2018.

Ciryl furrows his brow with Brennan's response, "There's a children's poem, something about he'll take off your head," Ciryl shakes his own head in frustration, "It's been years, I don't remember much. But if he's so old there ought to be other stories about him, maybe we can figure out how he works with more about what he does, or at least what he's been blamed for."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 82):

Logging Camp

Bryce says his farewells and takes a rest by the side of the road.

Brennan, Ciryl, and Deev continue to walk.


DuckTown

Titus blends easily into the stream of peasants waiting for the gates of DuckTown to open for the day, then slips quietly around to the shantytown south, careful not to be seen.

Titus is able to find the house suggested to him.

The sun finally crests above the eastern mountains, marking the start of a new day.

It is the 25th day of the Queen's Month

In reply to GM (msg # 83):

Titus knocks politely on the door.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 84):

Priest's Home

Titus waits patiently at the door, noting the crowd of very young and very dirty boys watching him from nearby alleys.

The door opens slowly, revealing the priest: he is an old dignified looking man with a round face and bald head.

"Yes, I am Father Mark," he responds to Titus' query.

In reply to GM (msg # 85):

Hi Father Mark, Titus.

He says sticking out a hand to shake. 

I was sent to help, may I come in?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 86):

The Slums

The bald old priest studies Titus carefully, his look one of fatherly disapproval.

"I can see why you have come, such a shame about the clerk, a good boy, really.  Yes, do come in."

Titus is led into a small low room covered with skins to keep out the cold morning air.  There is a small brick stove set into the back wall with a chimney, a rarity as far as you have seen.

The room is barely large enough for a straw mattress, a shelf of books, and a large wooden chest.

The priest sits on the mattress and invites Titus to perch upon the chest, though when Titus does so, his head brushes the thatched roof.

The priest smiles warmly.  "My boy, if you have any concerns, any weights on your soul, perhaps I can help to ease the burden.  Do not worry, you are in good company now.  We cannot always choose our friends, but we must stick by them, no matter what."

In reply to GM (msg # 87):

Titus rubs his face as he speaks.  He looks every bit a young man in over his head.  Whether or not this is acting is up for interpretation.

How did a priest get tied up in all of this?  In all honesty I don't even know what... this is. I mean what is even going on?

I was told to protect you.  There were some investigators from out of town looking around a poncy inspector.  I lead him on a bit of a wild goose chase and they should be on the road to Losthelm.

If I'm going to help I need to know more. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 88):

Brennan recites the Candlejack poem they heard in the governor's room by memory (not that I personally recall it), just in case it helps.


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.

Brennan frowns.

"There's nothing in there we don't already know at first glance. He wants virgin souls and can decapitate you if you fail to pay his price. Though...could it be as arcane as noting that running home would save you? Can he not enter structures? That seems patently absurd but...worth consideration, I suppose."

He grumbles to himself.

"I wonder if the Inquisition will be more concerned with him than us."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:11, Fri 13 July 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 89):

The Priest's House

Father Mark smiles warmly.

"My boy, there is no need to worry.  Jack is frightening in visage, this is true, but you will soon see he can be as good a friend as any man or angel.

Loyalty is the key, loyalty and brotherhood.  We help him, he helps us.  For my part, I don't require much, but Jack helps to keep me safe."

He gestures expansively with both hands at Titus.  "As you can see, he works in mysterious ways, but I thank you for your dedication and the warnings.  As to what to do, be patient, wait.  Jack will tell you what is needed.  Sometimes it is hard work, sometimes unpleasant, but in the end it will be worth it."

In reply to GM (msg # 90):

Titus cocks an eyebrow at much of the speech.

...Not used to hearing this from a priest.

He opens his mouth a few times and closes it, for once at a loss for words.

... and what is the end? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 91):

"Ultimately?" the priest smiles with one bushy brow raised, "In the end God will judge all of the Dreams, and when he awakens I can only hope he sees a band of brothers holding strong and is happy with what he sees."

In reply to GM (msg # 92):

That's neither vague nor ominous at all....  What bill of goods did he sell you priest?

Titus thinks his head cocked to the side.

So you did get my note that the masters are coming and you should prepare yourself?  Do you have anything here that needs to be hidden?  Anything potentially incriminating to our cause?  Do you need me to spirit you away?  Who else of our brothers could be caught in this dragnet? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 93):

The priest looks grave.  "Yes, I would prefer not to be questioned by the masters, nor for them to pester my children.  I do not wish to leave, and they may search my possessions, but I think it wise to avoid them for the time being."

He shakes his head, "It is just you and me now.  Unless you can pick up the reins of the brutes the Clerk employed, but I leave that to your discretion.  They are loyal enough to coin, but no further."

In reply to GM (msg # 94):

Titus nods and leans forward.

So being the new guy to this... where do I find them?

And what, exactly have they been doing?  I'd rather not end up on Jack's bad side again.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 95):

"I mostly kept out of their affairs, their methods being... brutish," the priest shudders.  "But I believe one was named Keller, one Burke... the third was.... Gheller!  Yes, that sounds right.  They live here in the shantys, likely you'll find them tonight near the fighting pits.  Gheller and his crew live on the stone dock just north of here.

As to their business, the clerk used them when he couldn't get things done himself: for protection, and to make sure nobody interfered with our brotherhood.  My children find girls for Jack, but sometimes raw strength is needed to make sure they don't change their minds."

The priest shakes his head.  "That's the young for you, don't know what's best for them."

In reply to GM (msg # 96):

The Road

As the sun rises over the mountains, it does little to dispel the chill of night, and the group (minus Bryce) who continue toward DuckTown find they are keeping their heavier cloaks on during the walk.

Soon enough the group is back among the farms and farmers that surround the walls of DuckTown, and by late morning, the Northern Gate is in sight.

Priest's Home

The Priest waits patiently for Titus' response.

In reply to GM (msg # 97):

Titus nods appreciatively gears in his head turning.

So its just the three of us in the brotherhood?  You, me and Jack?  The others are... subordinates if you will?

I'll contact them shortly.  Do you require me at the moment?  I was tasked to protect you.

Hey if its not too personal...What did he give you?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 98):

The priest giggles and puts a finger to his lips, "I suppose it does make it sort of fun to imagine it as a secret club, no?

There is just us and Jack.  My children are my wards, they help me and I help them but they know nothing of Jack.  The clerk had his lackeys, I supposed, but what he told them is unknown to me."

The priest's face hardens somewhat.  "Yes, if the Masters are after me, I should lie low for a while.  I will put my affairs in order and disappear for a while.  If you can keep them from my home for at least an hour, and throw any impediments in the path of their search, that would be of great help."

The priest lays a hand on Titus' knee.  "You seem a good sort, Titus, I believe we will be good friends, and even brothers."

In reply to GM (msg # 99):

Brennan grows quieter than usual as they approach Ducktown once more, and his eyes seem determined to try to look everywhere at once as best they're able.

"We've arrived," he says unnecessarily. "Where would you like to search first?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 100):

Every fiber in Titus' being recoils at the touch but he shows no outward sign of it.  In fact he smiles graciously, leans in and takes the Priests hand in both of his, he bows his head over the hand in supplication.

I'll need your help.  How will I be able to find you?  Where will you go?  What do I do to get a message to you.  I'm so... new at this... I'd value your guidance.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 101):

The priest smiles and lays a hand on the back of Titus' head as if it were an afternoon sermon, clearly unaware of Titus' disquiet.

"Fear not, young man.

I have a friend who lives to the west.  Quiet man, mostly collects mushrooms for a living.  I will stay there for a time.  I advise you to avoid calling on me as I do not wish to cause my friend trouble.  If you are in need of something, Jack is a good friend to have."

He busies himself collecting a few things to travel; staff, satchel containing some bread and and a skin of water, etc.

In reply to GM (msg # 102):

Do you ever find Jack or does Jack find you?  What's your name, brother? 

Titus asks.  As the priest prepares and leaves says

Good luck. 

Ciryl sighs heavily as the town comes into view once more, "I don't know," he says, sounding frustrated, "We still don't know anything important about what Jack's doing or what he wants.  He's taken virgin girls, but when I was speaking to him he seemed so dismissive of the fact.  He's a recent addition to Ducktown, we need to know why here and now.  We should find Titus first, at least know what Jack's said or done or demanded of him, where do you think he'd be?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 104):

Priest's House

The priest giggles again.

"Oh, he'll find you when he needs you.  I suppose you could try shouting his name after dark.
 I'm sure he'd hear you, but he might not like the racket.

You can call me brother, or Mark as it suits you."

Unless Titus has other questions or business, the priest will finish packing and depart, heading clockwise around the lake away from DuckTown.

In reply to GM (msg # 105):

After dark?  Does he come out during the day?  Can he visit me anywhere or are there places beyond his reach?  What about your wards what will they do?

Titus lets the questions fall out in a naive rush then blushes.

S...Sorry I get excited, nervous, and I ask lots of questions...

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 106):

"Seeking wisdom is no sin, young one," the priest replies.  "Assuming you can know it all is the foolishness.

I have no notion of where Jack goes, only that I have seen him but at night.  My children will survive for a while on their own, I will make sure they are safe as I depart, but it is good of you to worry."

In reply to GM (msg # 107):

Is... is Jack one of the Wandering Haunts?  I've heard stories of them lately, on the road.

Titus fares the priest well and watches as he leaves.  He pads quietly behind the priest and finds the highest area from which he can see the house as well as the approaches, and ideally he could view the priests progress as he leaves.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:32, Thu 19 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 108):

The priest shrugs.  "I'm a man of God, not tales."

OOC: Roll Stealth if you don't want him to see you

In reply to GM (msg # 109):

Titus slips away silently hiding from everyone in general

[Coord+Stealth: 2x10, 2x1]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Thu 19 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 110):

Titus follows the priest from a distance and usually from behind cover.

The priest strolls casually, stopping only once to take a knee beside a knot of young grubby boys.  He speaks with them for a moment and they scatter.

He then continues on out of the shantytown and around the lake as he said he would.

OOC: to continue following him would force Titus to walk out in the open, where he would surely be spotted, but he can watch the priest disappear in the distance.

In reply to GM (msg # 111):

"Someplace dark and quiet, I'd imagine," Brennan shrugs. "Demons who jump through shadows don't tend to like daytime very much. It limits their options."

"That's good to know, but what about Titus?  What would he do left to his own devices?  If it's too bright out for Jack to guide his hand directly he'd be making his own stupid decisions."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 113):

"Titus told us not to follow him. I assume that's because he either figured he was as good as dead or he was going to try to escape. Like as not he's either already dead or halfway back to where we were last night."

He looks over at the town again.

"Of course, if he WERE still in town, he would probably be trying to figure out some way to spin this whole thing into a win for Lord Fastbender. Deliver the cult to the Inquisition for renown or something? It's hard to be certain what he's going to do next."

"Alright then.  If he wants to deliver the cult he'd have to go where they are, right?  Most of the ones we know about were outside the wall," Ciryl points toward the shantytown, "We'll start there."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 115):

Titus opts to watch the priest disappear into the distance then returns to a perch where he can watch the house for the next hour or so.  He wants an area where he can see anybody coming or going with lots of lead time to react and cause a ruckus elsewhere.

As he sits he has time to think

I've seen slimey motherfuckers like him before... all smiles and cheer so long as they get what they want.  I should have left a knife in his heart.

...I may be going to hell, but I will send him there first...
This message was last edited by the player at 20:20, Thu 19 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 116):

Brennan agrees to make toward the slums, if only because the Inquisition is less likely to be there.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 117):

Titus waits, watching the flow of traffic from the slums toward the docks and the gates of DuckTown.

After half an hour or so, he makes out a small cluster or armed men making their way toward the shantytown.

People make themselves scarce, parting before the men clearly on a mission.

They march directly down the muddy road, making a beeline for the priests house.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:43, Tue 24 July 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 118):

Titus smirks at the entry and observes his surroundings, he closes his eyes and focuses at an area not far from the side of the road.

A person calling for help is heard in this direction.   If Titus knows any of their names the voice will be calling their station direcetly.

/ooc

If they ignore the voices more will join it.

If/when they respond to the voices the voices will trail off to lead them away.

Just as they start getting frustrated I have something else.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 119):

The group of guards pauses and points off in the direction of Titus' sound.

They quickly troop over in that direction.

OOC: This will buy time, maybe 5-10 more minutes, but at some point they'll assume someone is messing with them and continue about their way.

In reply to GM (msg # 120):

Before they get to that point they hear the crackling of Fire and the voices crescendo and end in screams.

Off in the medium distance they see a pillar of smoke.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 121):

OOC: The visual is a 2nd invocation of the ability, requiring more Echo etc.

One of the guards peels off and runs back toward the gates.  The rest will continue on toward the Priest's house (distant fires not being their problem).

Thus you've reduced their numbers but not bought any more time.

In reply to GM (msg # 122):

Titus' smile dissipates as he grasps for the illusions at the back of his mind but is unable to do so.  The column of smoke becomes a pencil and then fades from existence.

Shit...

Titus leaps down from his vantage point and runs to the priests house, just tossing it... making a mess.  He then runs out and cuts off the knot of men.

Strange happenings today all around isn't it.  M'name's Titus I was one of the inspectors from the South who found the priest.

He rubs his eyes blearily.

Been up all night watching this bastard... hate to break it to you boys but he skittered off early this morning.  Tried to follow him but lost him in the crowd.  Heard him sayin something about having a cave up in the mountains not too far from here.  Said he had food water and everythin he needed. 

He starts moving away from the house, gesticulating excitedly

He left in a right hurry about 5 minutes ago... I'm surprised you didn't bump into him on your way here. 
This message was last edited by the player at 15:05, Thu 26 July 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 123):

Brennan glances up, frowning at the horizon.

"Did you...was there smoke there a moment ago?"

He rubs his eyes and shrugs.

"I guess it's just the lack of sleep getting to me. Really need to meditate."

Brennan sips from his chalice quietly.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 124):

Outskirts

"Out of our way!" the guard starts in, but minor annoyance turns to worry at Titus' story.

"Fuck... the Master of Arms will have our heads for this."

Unless Titus stops them, they search the house, quickly, and are dismayed at what they find.

"Into mountains?  Damnit... I don't want to go climbing..."

The guards kick around the house a few times, then stomp angrily back toward DuckTown.

On the Road

Brennany, Ciryl, and Deev continue their walk, soon to reach DuckTown and swing around on the larger road that circumnavigates it and leads past the shanytown.

In reply to GM (msg # 125):

Titus breathes a sigh.

Well... that was a lot of unnecessary work.  I'm starving.

He goes to find breakfast and then will head off to the docks to claim his new ruffians.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 126):

Fortunately, breakfast and the docks are conveniently co-located.

As the first few fishing boats return (primarily crab trappers) a cornicopia of aquatic-based meals is available.  Titus has his pick of crab stew, oysters, smoked fish, or even more eel skewers if he so desires.

It is convenient too to be outside of the city walls, as recent events have gotten people quite riled.

The guard at the gates has been doubled, and more pace the walls.

Inside DuckTown, Guards have been posted at every major junction, many of which were clearly just conscripted or deputized as they wear little or no armor or badges.  Even the townsfolk have taken up arms, whether a hatchet at the belt or a knife handy, ready for anything.

A paranoid disquiet has fallen over DuckTown, even in the slums, and though it is no less bustling, the humor and candor seems eerily muted.

Titus

And so, Titus takes his lunch in the slum docks under the careful gaze of suspicious men.  When he asks about, he is able to find out that Keller is dead, Burke likely passed out somewhere, and Gheller is hauling stone.

After his breakfast, Titus marches to the stone dock, and find the described man, Gheller, to be a sizeable brute of a man who is currently busy loading enormous stones into a small rowboat.

The Rest

OOC: doing some temporal necromancy and bringing timelines together as quickly as possible.  Let Titus do some chatting and then you'll be able to find him.

Skirting the town, you can feel the unease radiating off of it.  Guards at the wall cast meaningful glances at you but do not engage.

You are not disappointed to lose them behind the first huts of the slums.

In reply to GM (msg # 127):

Titus polishes off the last of his crab stew and ambles over to the docks feeling the nervous buzz of the town and feeding off of it, knowing, its entirely his doing.  He can now wear the prince of swords openly as it is no longer out of place.  He blends into the crowd until he hits the docks and sees the large man.  He waits patiently for him to finish loading the stone he is carrying walks up introducing himself.

You must be Gheller.  He says crouching down on the dock to be at eye level with the man.  We have some mutual friends and some business to discuss... In private.  Can I buy you a meal?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 128):

Stone Dock in the Slums

"I am..." Gheller grunts, dropping the stone he was carrying.  "Who wants to know?"


"Heard the clerk ate a knife last night.  You pay as well?"

He accepts the offer of food and eats whatever is offered greedily and quickly.

In reply to GM (msg # 129):

Titus smiles wickedly.

One of mine.

The smile fades almost immediately and his accent goes rough

I pay every bit as well as the clerk.  

Look here's the deal.  The clerk isn't the big fish in all this mess.  Shit I'm not even the big fish in all this mess.  Problem is big fish is none too talkative.  So all I know is the clerk made the big guy unhappy, big guy sent me to fix the problem...  Now I gotta take charge of the mess that idiot left behind.

So I need first ta find out what the clerk was doing. I'm not here to rock your boat as it were, heard you were doing a bang up job.

So what exactly did he have you doing?  How did he arrange it?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 130):

"My boat?!" Gheller asks quickly, casting a glance back toward the rowboat full of stones.  "Who said anything about my boat?  Nothing wrong with... shipping rocks..."

When Titus clarifies that he meant in the abstract, Gheller calms somewhat.

"Don't give a shit who you work for, don't give a shit about the Clerk," he continues casually.  "He paid me an my lot to distract a couple guards, make a ruckus somewhat, and one time to haul a corpse up to the mountain and huck it into a gorge.  Coupla times he just wanted someone tougher than him walking him around, maybe scared someone would jump him?  I dunno.  Rich fucks do that shit sometimes."

Gheller picks his squat nose while he thinks.

"Also very clear we don't talk to nobody, that if we're talking, we're not getting any more jobs.  Paid extra for that."

In reply to GM (msg # 131):

When Gheller starts telling him he doesn't give a shit about me or who I work for Titus smiles.

Good man.  Smart move.  So long as the gold spends..

As he recounts his various heists Titus winces as if pained.

That dumb fuck... I think thats what did it... that corpse.  Little girl I imagine?  When did you drop it and where? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 132):

Gheller scratches at his chest absently.

"Yeah, slender, barely ten I'd wager. Almost a baby.  Were... two weeks ago?  Maybe three?  Hauled that bitch up the foothills yonder to a ravine I know, tossed it in."  He gestures to the east.

In reply to GM (msg # 133):

All right, and when did you distract the guards?  What did you distract them from?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 134):

Gheller frowns.

"Distract from.... I were doing the distracting, the fuck do I know what he was doing?  You got a job or what?  I don't got all day to sit here jawing."

In reply to GM (msg # 135):

You and I are going to get along just fine. 

Titus says with a broad, his hands blur as he without flourish, just speed, produces a pile of coins, shuffles them, and flicks them into two small piles.  One he leaves in the middle of the table, the other he pushes to Gheller.

He takes his leave and begins hunting for Burke.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 136):

"Allright then," Gheller grunts, all smiles now.  "You need somethin' you let me know."


Titus wanders off in search of Burke.

Burke proves much harder to find, everyone Titus encounters either doesn't know where he is, or doesn't want to know.

Titus eventually locates a low long building made from logs and waxed hides.  After kicking around it a bit, a bleary-eyed man crawls out with a series of grunts.  He is naked apart from his boots, and his body is the long wiry muscle of a fighter.  His multiple scars and cauliflower ears confirm it.

OOC: Brennan and Ciryle met Burke in the Pit earler.

He has a knife if one hand.

"Oo you?" he stammers.

In reply to GM (msg # 137):

Titus takes an appraising look at Burke's figure he taps a finger to his chin absently. 

A friend of a friend.  Did you hear the news about the Clerk?  I'm taking over his operation he... fucked up.

Unfortunately it's been left to me to figure out exactly how, so I need to know what he's had you doing.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 138):

Burke studies Titus for some time, wobbling slightly and squinting in the morning sun.

"The clerk," he states simply.  "He paid me.  Make sure the others leave him alone."

Burke seems to be having difficulty coming up with words.  Whether this is a hangover or just stupidity is up for debate.

"Bodyguard," he finally gets out.

A female voice mumbles something from the low tent, and Burke is momentarily distracted.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:47, Fri 27 July 2018.

In reply to GM (msg # 139):

Titus scratches himself while waiting for his player to stop sucking...
This message was last edited by the player at 16:01, Wed 01 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 140):

Titus smiles disarmingly, his words at odds with his expression.

Burk... you and I both know thats bullshit.  You've been dealing with the masters... and I KNOW that you were hired to make an inconvenient inspector disappear.  One of your crew died in the process... We know that Keller was murdered, and you have been offered his crew.

So... tell me what masters, exactly have you dealt with... and what other dirty jobs they had you do. 

Titus produces a coin and flips it casually in the air as he speaks.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 141):

Burke frowns.

"Were an inspector, heard about that, but I didn't do nothing about it.  Heard it went south if that's what your angling at, an Keller were killed on the road a few days past.

The Masters?  Look shitheel, I don't know where you got your ideas, but I don't work for no Masters, they got their own fancy people in DuckTown."  He spits on the ground and scratches absently at his balls.

In reply to GM (msg # 142):

Titus shakes his head.

Its a good thing your pretty Burke.  I was standing right fucking next to you when you made the deal.  None too subtle you are... man came up to you, flashed you a coin told you to make the inspector disappear.  Whoever that idiot was made an even bigger spectacle of it than you...

You were trying to get Keller's gang out of the deal.

See... I've been doing my legwork, don't try to out bullshit me. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 143):

Titus now has Burke's undivided attention.  He takes a much more menacing stance, feet planted and ready to start swinging.

"Careful asshole, you don't know shit and you sure as fuck don't get ta tell me what I did.  If you come to arrest me, you better have some real men hidden somewhere!"

In reply to GM (msg # 144):

The man's shifted stance makes Titus lean back in repose and stick his hands into his cloak he looks relaxed, unconcerned and nonchalant.

If I came to arrest you why would I come with all of this song and dance bullshit.  I'd just have ten people dogpile on you and I'd have you in custody.

No.

I'm trying to keep your dumb ass alive.  Look whoever got Keller is still out there, and somebody has been burning through your layers or protection and getting very close to you and the people you have worked with.  Now... if you want that head made of shit to stay on your shoulders your best chance is to work with me.

You lie to me I can't protect you

You don't let me know whats going on... I can't protect you

You don't do any work for me... well then this would be the last coin you'd get from me.

Titus' hand moves impossibly fast handing him a coin, pressing one into his hand and tossing a coin. 

I'm a good friend to have.  So... is there anything I should know? 
This message was last edited by the player at 17:55, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 145):

Burke looks at the money suspiciously.

"If you're payin' and you say you're the new clerk, I got no problem with that.  Alls he did was pay me to watch his back when he was wandering 'round here, finding Keller an' Gheller and whatnot.  Make sure nobody jumped him or slit his throat.  Had me beat the hell outta some guy cheated him, never got the name.  Threw a couple fights, nothin' more than that."

"So what you want done?"  He looks down and almost ads "... that requires pants" but doesn't bother.

In reply to GM (msg # 146):

Titus smiles

Thats the spirit.

You'll see me around... watch my back.  Be ready when I call.  What I need right now is information, I got dropped in here without shit for intel.  Rumors, half truths, anything can be patched together into a coherent picture.

I know about who is working against us.  I need to know whose on my team.

Titus smiles and nods over his shoulder as he takes his leave of Burke.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 147):

Burke blinks stupidly, watching Titus swagger off and out of sight.

"...ok...." he grunts, and climbs back into bed.

Quite conveniently, Titus notices Ciryl's wagon just outside of the shantytown, where stand Ciryl, Brennan, and Deev.

In reply to GM (msg # 148):

....motherfuckers....You dumb stupid glorious shits....

Titus wipes tears away from his eyes and takes a moment to compose himself.  He approaches the cart confidence back in full swing, vulnerability lost.

You shouldn't have come back.  Didn't you get my note?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

Ciryl doesn't catch sight of Titus until he speaks, at which point his attention snaps to the bard, "So you're against doing stupid things despite other people's warnings now?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 150):

Titus turns with an equal snap

I'm against people I....

He trails off for a second and continues reluctant and at a whisper that won't travel beyond the team.

People I care about... risking their necks to get me out of something I did to myself.  That's what I'm against.

He pauses and just as someone is about to speak he chimes back in

I didn't think I would ever see you guys again... its good to see you.  But you still should go.  The inquisition will be here soon; I won't have you guys hanging when we're so close to figuring this out.

I can carve out a spot for myself here and wait for my opportunity to break out.  Things are about to get chaotic... and weird.  You know thats when I'm at my best.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 150):

"I foresaw ruin if we came back to get you. Naturally, I was overruled. and I must say, I find your collective lack of faith disturbing."

Brennan smiles tightly.

" I'm glad to see that you are okay, I feared the worst. How did you free yourself? Is the creature dead?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 152):

Don't need to be a prophet to predict this is a a chocolatey nougaty clusterfuck in the making.  Hence why I expected you to have the good sense to stay away.

Not yet...

I was dragged back to the lumber yard and then put on a forced march back to here.  I spoke to Jack some, apparently him and I are the only members of the 'brotherhood'

As Titus says this he holds out his arm showing the tattoo.  As he does he keeps his eyes locked on Brennan.

The others are fake... I've placed myself at the head of Keller, Gheller and Burke's teams.  None of them know shit.  Looks like the only one who knows anything bled out thanks to Jack.  That being said I learned that people only see Jack at night... so thats another piece to the puzzle.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:17, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 152):

"You're ok!" Deev shouts, almost jumping for joy.

"I mean... um.... of course you are!"

In reply to Deev (msg # 154):

...they actually care about... me?!

Titus smiles and laughs in response to Deev pulling him into a warm embrace.

I am.  I appreciate you coming back. 
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

"What do you mean they only see him at night?" Ciryl's expression softens from its judgemental glare as the group shares their collective feelings about each other, but his tone remains businesslike, "Does he go somewhere else?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 156):

Nobody knows...

Titus says in that mysterious storyteller way that is the ONLY way that someone who tells stories for a living can say it.  However, this is not an imbelishment.  He goes on to elaborate about how Jack moved around at night and abandoned him at Dawn and his meeting with the priest.

I don't know how much he can see or hear during the day but there appears to be certain limits to his power.  I just need to fill out the rules of the game...

After Titus details the information from the morning and the priest Ciryl looks at Brennan, "Does that mean anything new to you?  Can we do something to a demon who doesn't like sunlight?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 158):

"It either means he cannot manifest himself in the sunlight, or is harmed or otherwise weakened by it. In any case, I suspect that gives us greater agency to act. It is good to know."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 159):

So... I'm apparently tied here until we deal with this situation.  I've placed myself as the new head of Burke and another guy named Gheller's thugs who have been working for Jack.

You guys seem to have the master's well in hand.  So we are not without resources... the question is what do we do with them and what is the inquisition likely to do once they get here?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 160):

Deev, now assured Titus is alive, goes back to his nervous self.

"I thought... well can't the Inquisition deal with... with Jack?"

In reply to Deev (msg # 161):

"They are capable of it, yes. But they aren't here for Jack," Brennan says wearily. "They are here for us. And they are already in Duck Town."

He gauges the time left 'til sunset.

"If they were to capture you, Titus, would Jack spring you or leave you to rot?"

"They're here?  Where?" Ciryl looks at Brennan a bit incredulously.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 163):

Titus looks thoughtful his expression darkening and lightening in turns.

He... well... I did... but then... I'd say... I'm not sure...

Knowing I'm half of his 'disciples' I want to say he'd save me.  But I don't think he cares much for his disciples.  He seems intrigued by me though.  I think the chosen hold a fascination for the demons.

Do you know how the inquisition is tracking us?  Is it something we picked up in Thorngate?
This message was last edited by the player at 17:58, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 164):

"The Inquisition feel...ripples...from demonic rituals and from the Chosen in general. Whenever you use your gift, they get a fresh ping. And while I am careful to only rarely call upon the wind, there are others --" he gives Titus a meaningful look "-- who are far more cavalier about it."

Brennan shrugs.

"I know where they are because I can see them during my meditations. I believe they can see me too, which is why I separate myself from you and close my eyes when I do so."

He turns to Cyril.

"There was one Inquisitor already here in Duck Town proper last I checked. More are coming. They will almost certainly visit this shantytown at some point, though."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:07, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 165):

Titus' mouth drops open with an incredulous look on his face... that appears genuine.

Why... didn't.... you... tell me?!

If you said I was summoning the bloody inquisition I would have changed my tactics significantly!  I rely on you to keep us safe from shit like this.  We trust you... shit I trust you, and I don't trust anyone!  Anything else we should know?

He looks at the others gathered round sincerely.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:08, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 166):

"They were always going to find us eventually," Brennan shrugs. "I don't think it would have slowed them down much to have a handful of fewer reference points. We made a LOT of ripples in Thorngate, at the Witch's cave, in Eastgate, here in Duck Town. And only some of those were superfluous."

He scowls.

"Yes, they were always going to catch up to us. I had just hoped the reckoning would wait until after we made it to Losthelm and unlock the secrets buried there."

Brennan looks at the group for a moment.

"We need to be on the same page. I am not going to let the Inquisition put me to the question without a fight. If anyone wants to surrender willingly and take their chances with them being good and decent men, now's the time to take your leave. Best of luck to you."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 167):

Titus spits on the ground.

I've got more money than almost anybody in this town, good underground contacts, several vials of poison, and a magic sword to grind... preferably with their face.

Fuck 'em.

How many are there?

Titus makes several pushing away gestures that appear to be Minoan in nature.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:18, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 168):

Brennan makes some gestures of his own.


"Just one in Duck Town that I saw, but they probably have a paladin with them. There are a half-dozen others on their way, at least. I can't be sure without giving away our position."

He raps his fingers against a nearby railing.

"I'm still working on a good idea, but I've got a bad one ready to go. While there's just the one Inquisitor, we might be able to talk to him. Once they have numbers, though...the questions will only go one way."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

As Titus ands Brennan start waving their arms around Ciryl smacks both of their hands, "Would you stop that and speak plainly?!  If we're all to be on the same page you should keep us all in the blasted conversation!"  He looks at both of them, his expression very cross, "I'll talk to him.  They're not after me, yet, I should at least have the benefit of surprise."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 170):

Titus holds up a finger in the universal sign that Ciryl can understand meaning...


One minute.

He makes gestures to Brennan.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Fri 03 Aug 2018.

Ciryl slaps Titus again, this time in the back of his head, "Words dammit!"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 172):

"Titus promised Jack that he'd not say a word. I've translated fully."

He frowns.

"I'm worried they know that you're a Chosen, and thus guess you're an associate. but if you're willing to try a diplomatic approach, I can't think of another way to do it safely."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:11, Sat 04 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 173):

When Titus gets slapped he cocks his hand back reflexively as if to punch his other hand goes from the universal one minute gesture to one that is much ruder.  When Brennan chimes in he glares at Ciryl and lowers his fist.

Generally its better to try diplomacy before violence, as opposed to the other way around... it can always escalate if need be.

Don't suppose you know what limitations they have on this remote viewing?  Should we assume that... like if one of them knows at least one other knows?

Titus shudders

Thats creepy.  Someone should write a play about that...

"Oh," Ciryl looks at Titus after Brennan's explanation, "Fine then," he says with a short, apologetic nod,   "They can think what they want. I've sold more to skeptics than a story before," Ciryl says to Brennan once more, "You said yourself, I'm a businessman.  I'll deal with the inquisition.  You lot see what rules you can determine Jack plays by.  We need that if anyone's going to beat him.  Do you have any idea where in town the inquisitor is?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 175):

"They can't view us at will. Only at very specific moments," Brennan says. "Essentially, whenever I look at them, they can look at me. It doesn't seem to work that way in reverse though. One of many secrets I have left to unravel."

"So I can figure out where this guy is, yes, but at the risk of him figuring out where we are. Would you rather search the old fashioned way?"

"Aye, that's probably for the best.  Should we have some kind of signal or place to leave a message in case I don't get executed and can't leave them long enough to meet up with the rest of you?  Figure out what you can about Jack. If we can't divine any rules about him, what he's trying to accomplish might give us something to work with."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 177):

Titus acknowledges Ciryl's apology with a nod and a quick smile.

The inquisition is bad for the brotherhood.  Dealing with them would be a good idea.  As for our part, I think it is best if we bent our collected will to finding out what he wants and his capabilities.

He has left me with significant slack to interpret his will, and I completed the task that has been asked of me.  I likely won't receive new instructions until tonight...

Titus looks to Deev,

Deev, will you go with Ciryl, watch his back and come find us if something happens to him? Ciryl any ideas on what would be an appropriate signal?

The priests house is now unoccupied, we can take that over as headquarters for a while if need be.  Or would you rather we meet somewhere else?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 178):

Deev nods vigorously.

"I can do that."

"No," Ciryl shakes his head at the suggestion that Deev join him, "I'm going alone.  Brennan said the Inquisition can see what we are, if there's more than one glowing person together any suspicions they have of collaboration will just be confirmed.  Alone I have the chance of selling myself as just a coincidence."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 180):

"If the Inquisition's search will eventually lead them to the priest and his home, I don't want to be there when it does. We'll meet elsewhere, after Cyril has returned from his errand."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 181):

OK, so no Deev, no priest's house.  Shall we meet by the pit?  Ciryl what kind of sign were you thinking of leaving?  Something by the Inn maybe we can check it if you aren't back by afternoon?

Shall I make preparations for a greeting committee for the inquisition or should I wait on that particular option?

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 182):

"Let's wait and see how Cyril's meet-and-greet goes."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 183):

I've already had two breakfasts this morning... I think its time for a drink.  Ciryl, good luck.  How long should we give you before coming to look for you?

"Not sure.  if I'm not dead in a couple hours I should stay that way for some time," he says with a shrug, "I'll leave something for you at the tavern where we stayed the first night if anything's wrong.  Best of luck." With that Ciryl gives the three a nod and turns his cart back toward the gates to Ducktown.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 185):

Ciryl leads his cart and mule up the bumpy road to DuckTown proper.

The increased presence and vigilance of the guard is immediately evident: and Ciryl is questioned intensely.  He eventually produces the old note given by the Guildmistress, and is waved gruffly through.

The people of DuckTown are on edge, that much is clear.  The streets are less busy, the talk more hushed, and many businesses remain shuttered.

The guards tromp around in groups of two or three, vigilant but not looking for anything in particular.  Many of these have little arms or armor, likely villagers pressed into service by the Master of Arms.

Ciryl is unharassed on his journey into the center of town, but finds getting into the town square might be difficult.  There is a large knot of armed men there, along with the Masters themselves and an ominous figure in familiar white armor.

The Master of Arms, Master of Hunt, and the Guildmistress are dressed in full armor less their helmets, wearing swords by their sides.  The Inquisitor has the telltale white leather cladded armor from tip to toe, face entirely concealed in a white leather helm and blank mask.

They appear to be talking, sending this or that soldier or clerk off on various tasks.  Ciryl can make out the diminuative form of Pika bobbing and hopping about like a squirrel with her books and quill.

The townsfolk, however, keep clear and Ciryl will not be able to hear the talk of the Masters without wandering directly into this impromptu base of operations.

Ciryl stops his cart outside the square and sighs at the sight that greets him, Well, there's that all gone to pot. He thinks as he lowers himself from the cart, Let's see what my charity's earned me then.  He begins making his way to the knot of the masters and inquisitor, cane in hand.  He does all he can to look humble about his approach, head bowed and pace slow, even for him.

Once he's within earshot, or one of the armed guards stops him he raises his head and calls out cautiously, "Lord Inquisitor?" his voice carrying with the practiced expertise of a professional barker.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 187):

DuckTown Square

Ciryl is indeed stopped by a number of men who rush over and, albeit gently, bar his approach.

The Inquisitor turns slowly at the hips.  Although it's likely just psychological or a trick of the light, Ciryl has the distinct feeling that the gaze emitted through the dark eyeslit in the helmet is a very physical thing, a beam of probing energy that digs into his very flesh.

The Inquisitor does not speak, but gestures to the guards to deal with the situation, instead turning back to the Masters.

"I... what do you want?" a soldier asks, clearly caught off guard.  This man is a proper DuckTown soldier, clad in mail and carrying a heavy spear.  "The... he's busy you see, doesn't want anyone interrupting his operations unless they got leads."

"I was told you would be here, Lord Inquisitor.  That you would need help with the demon," Ciryl says, again loud enough to be heard.  He doesn't attempt to push past the soldier or resist him at all, but neither does he even spare the man a glance, "Th-there's no circle!  Does that mean anything to you?" Ciryl looks thoughtful for a moment, clearly trying to come up with something, "He's not bound to anyone, or they're bound to him?  Is that unusual?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 189):

Town Square

"Um..." the guard looks to the Inquisitor and the assembled Masters.

All hold their breath until the Inquisitor raises one hand and beckons to Ciryl with his finger.

The guards escort Ciryl into the open circle, beside a small fountain with an empty stone pedestal in the center.

The Master of Hunt and Master of Arms close in beside Ciryl.

"Speak, Alchemist," the Master of Arms quietly beseeches.  "Tell us what you know and how you came to know this."

"I don't," Ciryl begins, his tone carries far less confidence than his sales pitches of the last several days.  He does his best to play up uncertainty and nervousness even as he chooses his words very carefull, "I don't know much.  I was told, you see.  And how I know is... well that's another matter and I don't," he holds up a hand as if to silence an objection that hasn't come and takes a deep breath, "You'll think me mad but if this is what I have to do," he raps the end of his cane on the ground once and gathers up his well emphasized nerves.

"Spring Heel Jack is an old one.  He has no circle and he was not summoned.  He binds men to his pact, and burns the virgin sacrifices." Ciryl's tone is as if reciting something from memory and once finished his shoulders sag and he rolls his head in frustration, "I heard it in a dream," he confesses, clearly not expecting the statement to carry any weight, "I was told that, I was told to turn back, and I was told I would find one inquisitor in the center of town who had to know.  And now I sound like a right ass, but you," Ciryl points to the Master of Arms, "One of your men was there and he saw it.  Well, he saw the fire, at least, Ciryl's nervous tone returns, "Last night, or two nights ago?  I haven't slept since this damned dream.  He saw the fire and we were talking to something, and he couldn't see that.  It was a demon that called himself Jack.  Ciryl suddenly jumps and turns to the inquisitor, "Not to be misunderstood sir, he spoke in the common tongue, plain words.  I'm no demonspeaker.  I don't know fell from chicken scratch, I swear that on my life."  He sighs, looking at the inquisitor with the most pitiable expression he can manage, "In the dream, it also said... I was told you would be able to see too.  Do you know what's happened to me, sir?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 191):

Town Square

The Masters and the Inquisitor listen intently, while the guards cast one another worried glances.

The Master of Arms, resplendent in heavy plate, rests his hand tentatively on the hilt of his longsword.  The Master of the Hunt, wearing battered splint-mail covered with dark furs, thumbs the back of the axe at his belt.

The Inquisitor steps toward Ciryl, his movements stilted like an insect or a bird of prey.

"I may know," he responds without an ounce of compassion.  "And I shall help."

He gestures to the guards.

"Take him somewhere private.  I will follow shortly to speak."

The guards begin to jostle Ciryl from the square.

OOC: holding for objections or a fight.

Ciryl Jerks his free hand away from the guards as they begin to jostle him and glares at the man coldly, "I may have a cane but I can walk.  He said he would help me.  It's a good man who says he'll help a stranger, 'swhat I based my career on."  Ciryl looks at the assembled armed men as they finger their weapons and gives a sharp nod and 'hmph' before gesturing for the guard to lead on less forcefully.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 193):

Town Square

After getting some specifics with the Master of Arms, Ciryl is led out of the town square, through the watching throng and to a gatehouse on the eastern wall.  It is a tall squared structure built of logs, and from the top one would have a view down of the main road running around DuckTown, and of the mountain range that borders the Kingdom.

Ciryl is not taken up the ladder to the top, however, instead he is ushered into the bottom chamber, which is a simple room with a fireplace on one wall, bunks on a second, and gear and weapons stowed on a third.

A young guardsman stands to attention when the door is opened, eyeing Ciryl curiously.

Ciryl's escorts follow him into the room, then take the young guard and leave, noting they will wait outside and Ciryl should make himself comfortable until the Inquisitor arrives.

The top of the ladder leading up is closed off with a simple trap door, so Ciryl is very much alone for what he figures is a quarter of an hour.

Finally, the door snaps open and the Inquisitor swirls in with a gust of cold air from outside.

He gestures for Ciryl to take a seat, and sits down across from the Alchemist.

"Tell me your story," the Inquisitor directs, voice betraying no emotion.  "Tell me the details of your day prior to the dream, the details of the dream, and what you have done since."

OOC: And gee, roll Bluff

"Oh, uh, the day prior..." Ciryl scratches the back of his head, "Well, see I came to town three days before, y'see.  And the town were having trouble with girls gone missing, and I had some men who were traveling with me on the road, mercenary types, and while I was here they was trying to help the Master of Arms with the problem, right?  So the day before the dream, I'd sold out of most of my supplies, and the guildmistress said that was as long as I could work here anyway.  Um, I sold some fireworks, just little ones, to a boy who'd been pestering me ever since I came to town.  And when I was closing up shop, the men asked me to come help them with a trap to find the person responsible for all the kidnappings.  So we go, and one of them gets himself captured on purpose, and we follow along outside of town and wait until the man in charge comes to question him, I suppose.  And when he gets there we spring the trap and there was the Master of Arms's archer to help and so we have this fellow in charge on the ground with an arrow in his leg.  And I say we, but honestly I didn't do much, I'm no fighter.  I just kept watch, and there was some boys who might've been involved, just like urchins and the sort I think, but we have the fellow in charge and he tells us the girls were for Jack, and we'll have to deal with Jack now and as he says this everything gets dark.  But it was night time, so it got even more dark and the fires we could see sputtered and there was this sort of shape that was hard to see, but it grew a face.  Kinda like the gourds you see in front of houses, just holes in the dark with embers or fire behind.  And it starts talking, but like I said, the archer was confused and kept asking who was I talking to.  The thing, Jack, he spoke in questions, like riddles.  He talked about wanting friends and playing games.  I might've got a bit outraged at one point, my gut got the better of my head and in an instant there was a ring of fire.  He offered to make a deal and frankly that sounded much better than burning to death," realizing who his audience is, Ciryl holds up a finger and waggles it to the inquisitor, "But I'm a businessman, it's been several years now I make deals to keep my life.  I didn't swear my soul to a demon on the spot or something stupid, don't misunderstand m'lord.  I asked what he offered, what he wanted.  I know how to haggle.  I hoped I might strike a deal that got him out of town, or to return the girls, but he offered gold. He tried to make everything sound so simple, if I just agreed with him, but I wanted to know what he wanted in exchange for his deal and he wouldn't say.  Before I could do any more one of the mercenaries, he said he'd take gold in exchange for not burning, and then Jack was gone."

Ciryl shrugs and sighs, leaning back into his chair as he'd crept closer and closer to the inquisitor over the course of the story, "We put out the fires and took the injured man we thought was in charge back to the Master.  One of his men was killed, but had a dying request, so I wasn't there but I'm told the man was killed in the streets on his way, I'd blame Jack for that.  After that night we left, I didn't know what more I could do and I was low on supplies.  One of my men said the inquisition would be along, he seemed the superstitious type.  We traveled down the road a ways and made camp, nothing much happened.  But that night I had a dream.  It was strange, but it was just words, or a voice.  It told me what you heard me say back in town about Jack, it told me where to find you and that I had to go back and help.  After I woke up I packed my cart and turned back the way I'd come.  I went past town to where we'd seen Jack before, I wanted to check y'know, make sure I could remember, or that there weren't something important there maybe you could need, but it was all just the same, so I came to meet you." Ciryl shrugs and looks at the inquisitor dumbly with the conclusion.

There's a moment of silence where his eyes dart around before he ultimately decides that, being in private as they are his original plan might not be as impossible as he thought, "I might not have thought anything about it, but it's not the first time I've had such a dream.  Once before, when I lost my leg," Ciryl scoots his chair back so that he can reach down and rap on his wooden shin for the inquisitor's benefit, "I had a dream with the same voice.  I'd gone to church, I begged for God or angels or demons all what might help me, it was a bad time in my life.  The voice, it told me those who seek aid should give it, 'spart of why I started traveling and selling medicine, y'know trying to help more people.  It just felt like I could believe it, I suppose. Like it were truth, not just a dream.  Doing work like that I got my wooden leg and made good money here and there, but some years later I had a second dream, it said I'd done good work and good works would be done to me in return.  I woke up and, well it was very different after that.  The real reason I came back, is because the dream said you could see.  I've never met anyone who could see it before, I've got some suspicions but I'm still not entirely sure." Ciryl looks the inquisitor straight in his eyeslit, bearing the weight of his gaze as he furrows his brow, "Sir, do you know what color I am?"

((2x3 bluff))

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 195):

Tower in the Wall

The Inquisitor does not question, comment, or indeed even move during Ciryl's long and thorough recounting of... mostly... his activities of late.  One could be forgiven for wondering if the white armor even contained a living person, or if it were but a set of clothes sitting in the chair.

Embers crackle in the fire, punctuating the silence after Ciryl finishes.

"I believe your story," the Inquisitor's voice finally floats lazily from the white mask.

The Inquisitor stands slowly, the dim light of the fireplace glinting on various metal tools and implements at his belt.

"Thank you for your information.  It has been noted.  Dreams can be a vital window, but one must be cautious which windows one looks in, and who might be gazing back.  I do not know what sort of seeing you refer to, nor of color."

The Inquisitor turns to leave, placing a gloved hand on the door, then turns and Ciryl once again has the sense that he is being looked THROUGH not at.

"It is possible your friend Brennan knows.  You should call to him for help immediately, if you have the means.  Otherwise you will wait, and if he comes, you may be allowed to leave."

With that the Inquisitor steps quickly outside the door and slams it behind him.

Ciryl can hear him issuing orders to the guards outside.

Ciryl's eyes widen when the Inquisitor states Brennan's name, but then tilts his head curiously at the armored figure's parting, saying nothing in response to the ultimatum.  "Well," he says, setting his elbow on one knee and his chin in his palm, "I suppose at least I'm not being hanged."

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 197):

Brennan accompanies Titus to a place where they can enjoy a drink, chat, and lay low for a while. As time wears on, however, his patience grows thinner.

"Ok, that's long enough," he says at last. "Ciryl said he'd leave a sign at the inn, right? Let's go see if he's done so. Besides, I don't want to waste the daylight...not when the night is so much more dangerous."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 198):

The Guard Tower

Ciryl is left alone, but quietly listening at the door or peeking through the cracks confirms that guards have been left to keep him inside.

Slums

Quiet and a drink are easy enough to find near the docks of the slums, as few are interested in talking with such strangers as you except to sell something or beg for coin (which many grubby children do).

Once he's sure the inquisitor is gone Ciryl waits a couple minutes before banging on the door, "Hey, come on, how long am I going to be stuck in here? It's been hours!"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 21:22, Thu 09 Aug 2018.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 200):

Guard Tower

Ciryl gets no response other than a loud thud of something heavy being set against the door.

Duck Town

Whoever chooses to venture into town is met with the same scene of paranoia and alert as Ciryl.  Almost everyone is stopped at the gate and questioned, and every person from out of town is met with suspicious stares from a populace on edge.

"Hey!  I can hear you out there!" Ciryl bangs some more and attempts to see through a crack in the door or frame to see what the thud was.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 202):

Ciryl finds that the guards have tossed a large burlap sack of flower against the base of the door.  Though it would be possible to open it by throwing all of his weight into it, it would take time and effort and give the guards more than enough opportunity to intervene.

In reply to GM (msg # 203):

Brennan grumbles as he looks at the beefed-up security.

"I told you they'd be able to handle things themselves after we left, as we gave them ample warning..."

He frowns, trying to get a sense for how much daylight is left.

"Deev, how well do you remember the Master of the Guard's face?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 204):

"Well enough but why... " Deev trails off as he answers his own question and gets very nervous.

It is late morning, almost noon.

In reply to Deev (msg # 205):

"Excellent. Titus, do you still have the paladin's equipment? I still have the Inquisitor's. I have a terrible idea."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 206):

Unfortunately I don't think it will help you in the way you want, we had the equipment defaced, so we could use it in a more general sense. Remember?  Oh and the helmet, still has a big arrow hole punched through the face.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:22, Mon 13 Aug 2018.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 207):

Brennan sighs.

"Ok then. The direct approach it is."

He takes a sip from the chalice and sighs.

"Deev, become the Master of Arms or a Paladin. Whichever you're most comfortable with. We'll just walk through the gate, and make our way to the Inn to see if Ciryl left us anything."

"Titus, put on that damaged helmet. You're the reason we're going to be in such a damn hurry."

Brennan clads himself in pilfered Inquisitorial armor. When he slips the mask over his face, he looks over at Titus solemnly.

"Well? How do I look?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Mon 13 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 208):

...almost convincing.

Titus says with a smile.  He fidgets with the helmet a bit wipes off some smudges of dirt here and there; straightens up his outfit to square it with his shoulders.

He will then don the full paladin's armor and grabs a few supplies from the bartender to make a red paste that he uses to stain some of the areas with blood red.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 209):

While Brennan and Titus get dressed, Deev becomes a large but plain-looking man.

He has no armor to wear, however, but does take weapons from Titus.

In reply to Deev (msg # 210):

Titus gives Deev a shield painted in the fastbender colors, as well as the paladin's sword and a knife to wear at his belt.  Titus keeps the prince of swords at his side slings his knives over his shoulder.

You know... we're probably going to die like this right?  Shall I go find Burke and establish some backup for us?

Titus smiles fatalistically.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 211):

"I will make it to Losthelm. I have foreseen it," Brennan assures Titus. "We probably don't want to involve Burke while we look like this. Plus, I don't trust him. Come on."

He takes a deep breath and looks at the gate.

"It's time."

OOC: Pausing for any last-minute things folks want to do before we're arrested and summarily executed.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 212):

I noticed you never said anything about Deev, Ciryl or I in that last statement.

Titus laughs sardonically, and not bad natured as he preps his bracers, greaves and helmet.  He seems to thrive on this particular brand of stupidity.

So what is my role?  Look horrendously injured and get dragged into town? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 213):

"If any harm befalls you, I will follow you to whatever dream you find yourself in and drag you back out. This is not a matter of faith -- you've seen me do it."

"As for your role -- you were attacked, and you're barely able to keep your feet. We need to get you medical attention, and we'll hopefully get whisked away to some doctor who can declare the wound superficial and luckily deflected by the ruined helmet, and then we can thank him and be on our way to the Inn. Perhaps change clothes before that just to be safe."

He waits for Titus to bloody up his armor and proceeds toward the gate once everyone is ready.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 214):

Thusly clad, an Inquisitor, and two armed men who are not paladins march toward the main gates of DuckTown.

As expected, you are met at the gate by the increased guard, though they seem unsure how to address you, instead just holding up a hand to signal you to stop.

OOC: I'm not sure I understand what your plan is here so I'll let you react to the guards

"You could at least say something!" Ciryl shouts at the door again, "He said I was to wait, not that I had to be quiet. A man goes mad sitting in silence long enough."  He huffs at the door, "Do you have names at least?"

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 216):

Guard Tower

"Inquisitor says we can't talk to..." one guard starts before being shushed by his friend.

"...idiot..." mutters the friend.

Ciryl huffs again, "So that's how it is huh?  Fine.  Fine then, didn't say I can't talk to you then.  Didn't say you can't listen, right?  Look I don't know exactly what you know but I have had a long couple of days and I'm a bit stressed right?  I'm already losing track of time and I can't stop thinking on things so I want to ask if you might do me a favor.  See when I came to town there was a tavern near the gates, I treated a rash on the fellow who owns it my first night here.  It wasn't a common rash, the ointment I gave him I hadn't made before.  I was in a hurry when I left, I never got the chance to follow up with him.  If I'm to be stuck in here I'm just going to be dwelling on things anyway.  And if I made the ointment wrong well that's terrible, but it's less terrible than other things I could dwell on.  I'm sure it worked fine," Ciryl pauses thoughtfully, "Would be quite terrible if it didn't," he mutters before returning to his more earnest pleading voice, "At least someone could go check on him.  You could even have someone write down on a bit of parchment if he's alright, wouldn't have to say a word to me.  It'd set my mind at ease.  Please, I'm just asking for someone to ask the man how his rash is doing.  No side effects, or other symptoms.  Just to settle my mind.  Just a bit.  You wouldn't even have to leave your post, just call for someone out there to run along for you, please?  I'm only even here because I tried to help."

((10, 9, 8, 3, 3, 2, 2 & 1 empathy+negotiate))

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 218):

Guard Tower

None of the guards reply this time.  If Ciryl managed to convince one to check on the tavern owner, they don't acknowledge it.

In reply to GM (msg # 219):

Brennan glances at the guards and cocks his masked head to one side.

"Is there a problem?" he asks cooly. "I am expected, and this man is injured. If I am unduely delayed or if this man dies on your account, I shall not hesitate to recommend you personally be put to the Question. Your motivations may thus be suspect..."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 19:55, Tue 14 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 220):

DuckTown Gate

The guards stand aside without another word.

People in the streets part just as quickly.

In reply to GM (msg # 221):

Brennan heads into the city and tries to find a conveniently out-of-the-way outhouse in which he could perhaps change unnoticed.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 222):

DuckTown

As the townsfolk are actively avoiding Brennan, he finds it no difficulty to dodge into an unoccupied corner and change back into his regular clothes.

In reply to GM (msg # 223):

Once Brennan and the others have reverted to their normal look, he heads to the Inn and looks for some sign left behind from Ciryl. Upon finding none, he asks around to see if anybody's seen the limping merchant lately.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 224):

DuckTown

People's responses range from paranoid to testy, especially with "inquisitors about" as they are quick to tell Brennan, possibly to judge the southron reaction to such news.

After some probing, however, you are able to learn that a man with a cart of Ciryl's general description was seen near town square, spoke with the Inquisitor, and was then led away by guards.

Either nobody knows exactly where he is being held or they don't want to say.

In reply to GM (msg # 225):

Brennan thanks them and, having found nothing of value in the Inn, decides to join the throngs of people near the square. He is looking specifically for Ciryl's cart, on the assumption the guards would not have led that away if they arrested Ciryl.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 226):

Town Square

Brennan easily locates Ciryl's cart, but finds that approaching it might be a risk.

It is standing just outside the square proper, with a pair of guards standing beside it.

The Masters of Arms, Hunt, and Guilds are still in the square, ordering this or that lackey and guard about.

The Inquisitor is not to be seen.

In reply to GM (msg # 227):

Brennan looks over the square for a moment, then turns to Titus.

"You're the most convincing actor among us, I wager. I need you to rush up to the cart, act relieved that its owner is still in town, and tell the guards that you bought the most miraculous medicine from him the other day and desperately need to buy more. See if they tell us what became of Ciryl in their response...push until they do."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 228):

I had damn well better be. So you want me to play sick... thats... an unpleasant role.

Titus says sardonically to Brennan.  He takes a moment extricate himself from the crowd and dirties his face.  He selects a path from the alley nearest the cart and splashes some dirt in his eyes to make them red.  Splashes water on himself to put himself into a cold sweat.

When he detects a parting in the crowd he rushes forward, lurching, falling, crawling, lurching again towards the cart. He adopts the rough accent of Burk and Gheller from the slums.

He's still here... He's still here... he can help me.... help me ma... praise God... He's still here....

His breathing is ragged he looks possessed.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 229):

The guards notice Titus immediately, but don't react as quickly.

"Stop!" one of them finally decides to say.

"Outsider?" the other questions.  "You sick?  Stand back!"

They hold their spears at the ready toward Titus, more to keep distance than to threaten him.

In reply to GM (msg # 230):

When the put the spears to his face he looks at them pathetically, doubles over and wretches violently throwing up his breakfast onto the ground and falling to his knees coughing.

Please... he gave me medicine... it worked... I need more... he said I'd need another dose...

Where is he?

The last is delivered with desperation.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 231):

"Who?" the guards ask, looking at one another.

"The alchemist?" one adds.  "He's... uh he's not here!  Look... if you're sick you better take that away from here... to the Chapel maybe?  Or to the surgeons, they live 'round the corner.. . alchemist got escorted out of here a while back, he's talking with the Inquisitor in the Eastern guard tower, you don't want to get messed up in that no matter HOW sick you are."

The pair keep their weapons on Titus but take nervous half-steps back.

In reply to GM (msg # 232):

Brennan smiles at Titus's masterful performance, but is too far away to hear what they guards actually said to him. He waits for Titus to return and make his report.

"Bravo," he murmurs quietly.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 233):

When the guard says that he is with an inquisitor Titus blanches.

No... no... why?

He shakes his head.

Alchemist told me its not the catching sort.  Last parting kick in the teeth from my dad y'know.

Where you say the surgeon was again?

When the guards point it out Titus thanks them and lurches away.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 234):

After Titus has reported his findings, Brennan nods and begins to lead the group toward the indicated toward as discretely as possible.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 235):

Titus wipes the grime off of him and tries to wash himself off as best possible.

Playing sick is the worst.  Anyone have a flask to wash the taste out? 

He accepts a flask if one is proffered.

Titus will put on his chain maille and buckle his sword to his belt; since everyone in town is armed and armored it won't seem out of place.  He shuffles around his clothes to make it at least relatively discreet.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 236):

Being one of the tallest structures in DuckTown, the guard towers are easy to locate.

They are three stories tall and built of rough-hewn logs, with a single door and a covered platform at the top on which guards can be posted.

The Eastern tower has a small cleared area around its base, and at the edge of this and a few thatched cottages you stop to observe.  You are now more keen to the ever-present young boys that skitter and skulk about in the town, watching your every move from a distance.

The door of the guard tower is made of heavy oak, but has no lock that you can see.  Instead, a large burlap sack, likely full of flour or sand, has been placed against the door to jam it.

There are also three armed guards standing by.

In reply to GM (msg # 237):

Brennan's heart sinks a bit at the sight of 3 guards and the heavy sack of something blocking the door.

Don't they know that's a fire hazard? he scowls to himself.

"The guards all answer to the Master of Arms," he says quietly. "We could attempt to have 'him' give them an order to follow him somewhere else, then we could move the sack and rescue Ciryl."

Brennan lolls his head backward, looking up at the sky for a moment, then lets out a sigh.

"But that's only going to delay the inevitable. I told you the Inquisition knew who we are, who we travel with. This is probably a trap. And despite all my warnings, here we are in the midst of it."

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Ciyrl couldn't run even if he wanted to " he murmurs. "Neither can Titus, thanks to Jack's influence. Deev and I could soldier on for a time, but ultimately that's just wasted effort. The Chosen must band together. Must unite. I have foreseen it."

Brennan squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his hands into a fist, then opens them again.

"Keep the faith," he says at last, putting a hand on Titus and Deev's respective shoulders. He produces a well-worn journal from his cloak and hands it to Titus. After a moment's hesitation, he also unlatches the chalice from his belt, drinks from it , and gives this to Titus, too. "Keep these safe. I will want them back."

With that, he strides out into the light, produces a rod of amber, and holds it aloft.

"I received your invitation," he says aloud, marching directly up to the trio of guards though seemingly speaking only to himself. "And I'm here. Let's talk."

Brennan slides the amber rod back into his cloak as he comes to within speaking distance of the guards.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he says. He tosses back the hood of his cloak and gives them a broad smile. "My name is Brennan Otthild, and you'll find that I have a longstanding appointment to speak with the Inquisitor about the unruly fellow you've locked up in that tower. I am certain he will not want to be kept waiting."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 238):

What are our chances of ending this nonsense with the inquisition?  Also to be fair... I told you not to come back either.

He says with a wink.  He takes the proffered items and mentions as Brennan is disrobing

Let me borrow your bow... I've seen you use it enough I think I can help if need be.

When Brennan turns to go Titus grabs his shoulder

Whats your plan?  What do we do?

This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Mon 20 Aug 2018.

Ciryl's hand comes up to rest his palm across his face when he hears Brennan's voice outside, "I know I demanded we face our fears of the inquisition, but I didn't expect you to turn yourself in for an execution," he mutters.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 240):

About A Minute Ago

Brennan allows Titus to borrow his bow and quiver. When asked about a plan, he shrugs.

"My plan is to talk to them. It's better if you don't know more, given your...current relationships."

***

The Present

Brennan waits for some reaction from the guards.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 241):

Titus shakes his head and looks at his feet.

You weren't supposed to get caught up in this...

As Brennan goes forward to confront the inquisitor Titus grabs Deev by the shoulder

Best we stay out of sight for this.  Let's go. 

Once safely out of line of sight Titus surveys for a good vantage point to get a view on the guard tower.  Preferably up on a roof and out of sight of most.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 242):

The guards stand completely still, stafing st Brennan in utter surprise.

One makes a few official sounding coughing noises and is about to speak when he notices the large contingent of guards melt out of the nearby alleys and around piles of logs.

At the head of one cluster stands the Inquisitor.

"Come quietly, Brennan," the Inquisitor hisses.  It is neither query nor offer.

In reply to GM (msg # 243):

Titus watches with Deev from the shadows.

Shit.... they are expecting us.

He turns to Deev and puts a hand on his shoulder.

If they come for me I want you to run.  I'll leave you a purse with enough coin under a rock under the steps behind the inn.  Take it go and don't look back. 

Titus shakes his head feeling the weight of the cup by his side.  He holds it up looking at it.

I know enough stories to know that things like this are rarely a good idea...

He sets it to his side.

Lets see what happens.  I feel like we are playing exactly into their hands. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 244):

"That's why I'm here," Brennan says, either unphased by the show of force or trying hard to appear so. "You've got what you want, and I'll go where you lead. But let the merchant go -- I barely know him, and he doesn't agree with me anyway."

"That's because sometimes you're wrong!" Ciryl shouts from the other side of the door, having been peeking through the cracks in the door since overcoming his exasperation with Brennan's choice of course.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 246):

Brennan is neither searched nor hassled, but the Inquisitor ignores Brennan's request, instead gesturing for him to follow the guards.  These swarm around Brennan and guide him, albeit nonviolently for the nonce, away north along the wall.

The Inquisitor takes up the rear with a trio of guards flanking him.

In reply to GM (msg # 247):

Titus will follow behind at a safe distance.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 248):

Brennan follows the guards to wherever they lead, unless he happens to see a big burning stake or gallows in the distance toward which they are heading, in which case he will become less agreeable.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 249):

The guards guide Brennan slowly, with frequent looks back at the Inquisitor as if they were uncertain of their destination.

The group moves north along the wall, ending up not all too far from where the party first encountered Jack.  Built into the wall is another storehouse of rough logs and having only one low door and no windows.

The guards gesture for Brennan to enter, but they do not follow.

Inside Brennan finds many small wooden kegs stacked floor to ceiling and a few burlap sacks filled with flour.

There is enough space for maybe three men sitting or crouching, so when the Inquisitor follows and sits in the doorway, there is no avoiding physical intimacy.

The Inquisitor sits cross-legged, blocking the exit and silhouetted by the only source of light in the dark storehouse.

For a moment the white armor is silent.

"You must percieve that, as you are alive, there is yet chance for redemption.  I ask no confession, we know your sins.  However, if you join with us, here and now, there may be a path for you in this dream."

Titus watches from a safe distance, observing the contingent of guards milling about but unable to see the sacks of flour from his hiding spot.

In reply to GM (msg # 250):

Brennan observes the man's demeanor carefully, his expression neutral.

"So that's it, is it? You need my help."

He looks at the Inquisitor's mask where the eyes should be, his gaze never faltering.

"I seem to recall that forgiveness and redemption were deemed impossible back when you expelled me from the Academy," he says at last. "And I have a perfect memory, so I am quite confident that my recollection of that particular conversation is accurate."

"I'm at your disposal, but first I must ask: what has changed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Sat 25 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 251):

The Inquisitor's tone has no inflection whatsoever.

"We do not need anything, but we try never to waste a potential resource.

You misunderstand the meaning of redemption.  It is not forgiveness, it is a chance to continue operating in this dream and do some good for a change."

In reply to GM (msg # 252):

Brennan lets the slight go and nods quietly.

"What would you have me do?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 253):

"You will contribute to our mission: cleansing the taint of Hell from this dream."

The Inquisitor straightens up slightly.

"First, you will tell me what you know of the demon living here.  Second, you will accompany me back to a citadel for further questioning."

In reply to GM (msg # 254):

He looks around the room for a moment, sighs, then launches into his tale.

"The demon calls himself Springheel Jack. He seems to have some power of smoke and fire, and can conjure and manipulate gold coins. He can travel miles in minutes, fast enough that he overcame an entire day's travel in just a few short hours. He's only active at night, though I'm not certain if he is weakened in daylight or simply dislikes it."

"The demon makes bargains in the common tongue, speaks it comfortably. He has been here a long time, and is not bound by a circle or to a summoner. I've already dealt with some of his cultists, but there are others -- primarily, a priest who is master of the town's urchin boys. These are his spies, while the various brutes of the slums serve as hired muscle."

"The young girls here serve as 'lamplighters' -- I know not the source of this tradition, but the urchins scout this group out for promising virgins and arrange to have them taken away. They do not appear to be taken unwillingly from their homes, which suggests drugs or trickery is involved."

"I do not know the location of the primary stronghold of the cultists. But they take the virgins they capture somewhere and sacrifice them to Jack. He seems to burn them from the inside out, and he claims to consume their soul in this way. The truth of this, I cannot verify."

"You've been watching us for a while. No doubt you saw how we exorcised the demon plaguing Eastwatch and the coven of witches before that. I tell you, as a man with some experience banishing demons to the Dream of Hell, that Springheel Jack is by far the most powerful foe I have seen. I was hoping you and your allies would have the power to banish him, for I fear that I do not."

He scowls slightly.

"If we had such power, you can be sure Jack would already be gone. He's a blight upon these people, and an obstacle for-"

Brennan trails off and doesn't finish that statement. Instead, he changes topics.

"What of my companions? Will they be coming back to the citadel, too, or shall they be free to resume their lives in my absence?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:49, Thu 30 Aug 2018.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 255):

The Inquisitor listens without comment or even moving.

"This is useful information, you may have saved many from damnation in telling me this.  The Inquisition is aware of Springheel Jack.  We can now begin to purge him.

Your friends will not be permitted to attend you to the citadel.  They will be questioned.  Those without sin need have no fear."

In reply to GM (msg # 256):

"None are beyond sin," Brennan says flatly. "Nor so far gone as to be beyond redemption."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 257):

The Inquisitor pauses for a moment.

"If it puts your... heart... at ease, we seek only to purge the influence of the demon, any further judgement is left to the King."

He sits motionless.

"If you are ready, we can leave at once.  Jack has dwelt here for some time, other Inquisitors are on their way to deal with him"

In reply to GM (msg # 258):

"I am ready to depart," Brennan says. He rises to go, following the Inquisitor's lead.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 259):

The Inquisitor rises and backs out of the small building, leading Brennan back into the company of several armed guards.

As he does so, Brennan notices that his armor is subtly different from the set Brennan took: it has an additional leather tube of some kind in the back of the helmet, made of the same white leather.

"It would demonstrate trust if you would turn over the confiscated equipment you possess, and tell your friends Titus, Deev, and Ciryl to cooperate, wherever they are.

You have a horse, we will need it."

In reply to GM (msg # 260):

"I have no means of communicating with them while I'm in your custody," Brennan replies.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 261):

"And the equipment?"

In reply to GM (msg # 262):

"They should have it with them."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 263):

The Inquisitor looks around for a moment, then turns back to Brennan.

"If you have a means of recovering the stolen equipment from them, I suspect you would prefer that to my means of finding and recovering it.

As of yet, your companions have not hindered my mission to purge the demonic influences here.  Continuing to transport stolen materials would change that."

In reply to GM (msg # 264):

"If I have a means..." Brennan blinks, confused. "Obviously, I could go ask them for it. But not with you and your escort holding my hand. They would suspect a trick or a trap."

He sighs.

"Look, I've come with you willingly. You want to build trust? That goes both ways. I'll meet you at the gate with my allies, my equipment, YOUR equipment, and my horse. 30 degrees of the sun should be enough time. What do you say?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 265):

The Inquisitor signals for the guards to follow him.

"You will not be followed, but you will not be permitted to leave alone."

The cadre move off, leaving Brennan beside the town wall.

In reply to GM (msg # 266):

Brennan makes sure he really won't be followed, then heads back toward the tower where Ciryl has been imprisoned. He walks straight up to the door and addresses the guard equally directly.

"I need to speak with the prisoner. Inquisitor's orders. He is not likely to be pleased with any delays."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 267):

The guards look at one another, then back at Brennan.

"Were told not to let anyone see the prisoner until... well we can't say.  Were told not to even trust an Inquisitor."

The men look nervous, the kind of look one has when faced with a dangerous person you might have to kill.

In reply to GM (msg # 268):

Brennan shrugs.

"Fine by me. I'll just tell the Inquisitor I can't collect the things he wanted. What's your name? I'll need to be clear on whose fault that is."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 269):

The guards give Brennan their names, but don't budge.

"Might be a test?" one whispers to the others when they don't think Brennan can hear.

"Or he wanted to talk to me on the inquisitor's orders, and the Inquisitor couldn't be bothered to mention it to you two since there's a bloody demon about," Ciryl comments from behind the door.

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 271):

Titus sees Brennan strike off on his own from his interrogation with the inquisitors and go to Ciryl's prison.

Sonuva bitch made it out... not home free yet, but its a start...  Deev this is either really good, or really bad.  Not much middle ground.  Do you have any idea how to get out of this bind?

He looks at his arm tracing the sigils therein.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 272):

"Suit yourselves," Brennan shrugs, making a show of jotting down the guard's names on parchment. "Your families live nearby, right? I'll need their addresses, as well."

When the guards look confused, he clears his throat.

"They deserve to know about your noble sacrifice. This prisoner's harboring a rare and fast-acting plague, you see."

He shows the guards his syringe.

"I need to take a sample of his blood to work out a cure. Something you'd both benefit from, if the man's been shouting or coughing at all while you've been standing here. It spreads from the breath. But I'm not going to fight you over it. Really, healthier for me to stay far away, and explain that I just COULDN'T get that sample due to the diligence of you fine guards."

He shakes his head slowly.

"People will die, of course, but...I suppose that's life, isn't it?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 273):

One of the guards locks his eyes on the syringe in Brennan's hand, his mouth opening and closing without sound.

"Aye..." the more talkative guard replies, attempting to rein in his companions, "an we're not to enter the tower either... and I'll remind you that it were an Inquisitor told us not to open the door for anyone but him."

He turns to Brennan.

"If this is a test, you'll find we're loyal to the Masters as any men.  If this is some sort of mistake, you'll have to take it up with them."

In reply to GM (msg # 274):

Brennan sees that he won't be getting anywhere, shrugs, and puts the syringe away.

"Fair enough. I'll report back and see what they want me to do."

He returns to the inn where he's met his compatriots in the past and waits to see if Titus et al show up.

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 275):

Nothing impedes Brennan as he leave Ciryl and returns to the tavern.

There, presumably, he meets up with Titus and Deev.

In reply to GM (msg # 276):

"So...we have a bit of a problem," Brennan says to Titus and Deev once they've situated themselves in a quiet alcove of the tavern. "The Inquisitor wants the stolen equipment returned, and to take me to the Citadel."

He shivers slightly.

"I would, of course, prefer to go to Losthelm. But there are eyes everywhere, and Cyril's still locked in the damn tower. I was able to secure 2 hours to collect my things and my bearings, but after that it will be difficult to delay any longer."

He looks over at Titus.

"So I'm going to need to create a reason for the Inquisitor to stay. And that reason's going to involve Springheel Jack. Where is he?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 277):

Titus looks down at the table sadly.

Fuck that. 

He says impassioned about the Citadel.  He looks at his arms for a moment, clenching his fist as if trying will Jack to him.

Jack doesn't come out during the day, he's only ever been seen at night. 

He looks at Brennan.

We'll see if I can take your place.  If they remove me I believe Jack will drag me back.  There's only the two of us.  Perhaps we can truly make them allies in this?

Would it be possible to bring them in on this?  Go to them for... help? 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 278):

"The Inquisitor suggested they had a plan for taking care of Jack, but he didn't elaborate and seems to be in a hurry to leave," Brennan says with a frown.

"I'll need some help disguising myself if you intend to take my place and let Jack drag you away again. That's actually a rather cunning plan. No offense intended."

He looks down at the table.

"So I slip out of the town while you go with the Inquisitor, and then Jack brings you back, and then the Inquisition MUST deal with Jack if they are to get 'me' to the Citadel. Clever."

"What I don't understand, though, is how you intend to escape once Jack is well and truly gone. If it comes to a fight, he may expect you to do battle on his behalf. And in any case, I don't know how to spring Cyril from his jail cell."

Brennan blinks and looks over at Deev.

"Wait...yes I do. Can you assume Cyril's form well enough to fake his limp?"

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 279):

Titus runs a hand through his hair.

When Brennan compliments his plain he sneers with no true malice

I get one every now and then.  You and I are similar enough in build that I can do with with makeup and garb.  Ciryl... I need illusions for that, and they have been... unreliable of late, and I feel, bone tired.

Though there is a downside to my plan, we glow different colors, can they see it or not?  That may render everything moot. 

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 280):

"Honestly? I'm no longer certain," Brennan says after a long pause. "I was so certain that they could, but the Inquisitor didn't seem to know what I was talking about. If it turns out they can, at least this will confirm it. And Jack will still retrieve you nonetheless."

He smiles slightly.

"What I need is the illusion that Cyril's cell is EMPTY, affecting only the guards who bother to look once they see Deev's version walking around. They open the door, leave it open while they search, the real Cyril hobbles out and we hurry him out. Somehow. That part of the plan still needs refinement. There are barrels nearby, right?"

Brennan winces.

"He's going to HATE this plan..."