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."