The High Justicar is as good as his word, if not better.  He provides neither map nor directions to the home of Feldon the mason, but instead sends Kallana to act as a guide, the very same knight who had fetched the adventurers from their tavern earlier that morning.

She leads the group through the now crowded streets, and it soon becomes clear that she is both well known around the city, and popular with its residents.  Before long there is a crowd of small children around her, calling her name.  She stops at a baker's shop, and when she emerges, a few minutes later, it is with a cloth bag of cinnamon rolls, which she proceeds to distribute to her small admirers as they walk, breaking the sweet buns into pieces so that they go further.

Colwyn laughs, "Is we gettin' any of that?"

"Only if there are any left when we reach Feldon's home.  Morning Ana!" this latter directed to an elderly flower seller, who waves cheerfully in Aarnr's direction in response.  Kallana says quietly, "Poor thing is as blind as a one eyed mole, though she will never admit it."

"It's lookin' like yer's bein' well known round 'ere." Colwyn comments as a man sitting outside a shop (which judging by the giant shoe hanging above the door, is probably a cobbler's) calls out a cheery greeting to Kallana.

Kallana nods, "I lived all my life on this side of the city, at least until I became a Justicar in my sixteenth year.  My mother died when I was born, and my father when I was about three or four, and I pretty much lived as a beggar on the streets after that.  Everybody knows me, and I know them."

"Oh, right, poor kid done good.  I's been 'earin' as 'ow that can be 'appenin'."  A sage nod from the rogue, and then, "See, I were bein' the same.  Livin' in the street all me life.  Only I were never so lucky as you ter be took in by some bunch of bleedin' 'oly knights."

It almost sounds like a challenge, or an insult, but the rogue is grinning, and Kallana just laughs, and makes an odd hand gesture.  It's probably a coincidence, but Colwyn's grin fades, and he looks away, his face turning red.

For his part, Aarnr is peering moodily at the giant shoes hanging above the doors of a number of establishments in this street, and trying to calculate how many giants have been slain in these parts.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:01, Thu 19 May 2016.

Possibly a coincidence, Eilieen figures.  But Colwyn actually looks embarrassed about something.  Perhaps the hand gesture holds meaning?  Sadly, what it could be the priestess has no idea, but shelves the idea for later querying the clever rogue.  He HAD mentioned something about 'cant'...

"Pretty flowers," she states, stopping to purchase one from the elderly woman.  If she can only buy in bulk, she pays for that and still only takes one - something best for sliding into her hair.  For a moment the priestess juggles spear and flower, then finally gives up, handing her spear off to Colwyn.  "Take this, and try not to stab yourself," she states with a small smile to take any sting from the words.

Flower-in-hair, she reclaims her walking stick/weapon.

"So...how far to this mason?"

OOC - Purchasing a flower.  Something fuschia, if possible, pink if not.  If Eilieen can only buy bunches, she pays for one but only takes a single flower from it.

Much as he does not like to admit it openly, Arkan enjoys the bustle of the streets, especially after the gloom of the crypts and the undead. Kallana is also fine company, with what is turning out to be a rather surprisingly interesting and humble past.

He notes with interest the gesture she makes and Colwyn's subsequent reaction, but does not say anything about it for now, though does file the intriguing tidbit aside in his mind.

"It must have been quite the jump, from urchin to Justicar, and many hours spent  training in the yard. Warrior orders usually do not take in anyone not talented in the arts of war." Arkan said to Kallana casually as they stopped to let Eileen make a purchase.

"That suits you rather well Eileen," he says with a smile to the priestess as she slid the flower into her hair.

"I was always getting into fights when I was younger.  Usually to keep some smaller kid from getting into one.  And when I wasn't fighting I was hanging around the Hall, hoping to run errands for the Justicars.  They saw me fighting to protect a younger kid often enough that they thought I'd make a good Justicar, I suppose." explains Kallana.

Behind her, Ozzy is scribbling notes on a sheet of parchment, doubtless composing an epic song based upon her life.

The woman stops walking.  "This is the place."

The house looks old, and the stone walls are wreathed in ivy,  There are numerous windows, mostly small, with thick, yellowish glass.  The small garden that lays before the structure is unkempt, and somewhat overgrown.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:37, Fri 27 May 2016.

Kallana, Eilieen muses, seems to 'walk the walk', as Colwyn once put it.  And has, all of her life.  They could do worse than her as an escort.  She perks up slightly when Arkan offers approbation for her flower.  "Why thank you, Sir Arkan," the priestess replies, appreciating the compliment.  "My pallor is somewhat...irksome, and I find a bit of colour often serves to brighten it up."

It also reminds her of...well, if not BETTER days, then cleaner ones.

She studies the home Kallana indicates with some distaste.  "Well.  No green thumb here...or too much of one," Zadastha's priestess notes.  "Though I do like the walls and the ivy."  She makes a face.  "Hopefully the colour of the glass isn't due to pipe smoking...."

Marching up to the door, the priestess makes to knock, but pauses.  Unkempt...the wood is probably filthy.  Shifting her spear around, she taps gently on the door with the butt end of the weapon.  "Hello?"

Arkan notes the overgrown garden with a frown; it gives the appearance that no-one is living in the house at present, or has been for a while.

Perhaps that is supposed to be intentional, or perhaps not and the house is indeed vacant.

They would find soon enough though, as Eileen knocks on the door with the butt end of her spear. As she does so Arkan glances about at the windows, thinking how easy it would be for someone with hostile intent to snipe at them with bows and crossbows...or worse.

---

Spot: 14

After a short wait, there is no reply to Eilieen's knock.  Apart, that is, from a rustling in the ivy on the wall above the door, which is followed by a loud cawing as a pair of jackdaws emerge from the tangled foliage and noisily explode into flight...

Aarnr gives the ill-omened fowl a glare and lambasts them as they take off.  "Black feath'r'd puttocks!" he declares, "Puny ill-breeding maggot-pies!"

And still there is no response from the interior of the house.

Colwyn nods at Bilfro, "I could be gettin' it open, easy enough."  The rogue indicates the lock, "That's bein' a cheap bit of work.  I's bein' surprised as the bloody birds 'adn't opened it."

"Go right ahead Colwyn, the longer we wait the more chance anyone inside has to prepare for us, or give us the slip." Arkan says gesturing at the door, while drawing the black glove on a hand tighter with his other one, and then clenching and unclenching the hand absently; an old habit that comes about stronger when he is either nervous, or preparing for conflict.

This assumes that their target is indeed guilty, of-course, an assumption that does hold a lot of weight. Still, if they are indeed wrong the Order of the Justicars ought to be able to smooth things over, given no one innocent gets murdered or the like.

Thinking of something Arkan glances at Kallana and asks her quickly in a low voice, "Lady Kallana, does this house have a back door? If so one of us should move there to keep watch, in case our target tries to run for it."

Kallana shakes her head, "I have no idea.  I have never seen the back of it."

Colwyn, meanwhile, needs no more encouragement.  He steps forward and kneels before the door, opening up his rolled up bundle of tools.  Peering at the lock, he suddenly curses.  "Nadgers"  Bloody nadgers!  It's bein' a insult, that's what it's bein'.  A bloody insult ter me an' ter all me mates."

Reaching out, he lays a hand on the latch, turns it, and the door creaks loudly as it swings open.

"What sort of stupid bugger's 'avin' a lock an' not bein' usin' it?  'e must be 'avin' pixies in 'is attic."

"Do you think so?"  A look of almost childish delight suffuses Bilfro's features, as he tilts his head back to gaze in the direction of the roof.  Then a thought strikes him, though not quite with the force of a crossbow quarrel.  "Or perhaps yon thieving avians broke in, just as you said they might."

Colwyn, meanwhile, is looking into the interior of the house.

"Well, I's tellin' yer now.  If it were bein' them there birds, then they's deservin' their reppertation fer bein' robbers.  There ain't bein' so much as a stick of furniture left."

Beyond the rogue, inside the house, the entry hall is entirely empty.  No furniture, no rugs, no tapestries or paintings, and not so much as a single knick-knack...

Eilieen sucks in a breath.  The interior looks dangerous.  For her.  Cobwebs, dust...ugh.  "Well.  Nothing to do but enter, then."  She pats Colwyn on the shoulder.  "Well done with the lock...but Colwyn, I am absolutely certain you would have managed had they actually used it."  There's true amusement in her voice, but no mockery.

"'Nadgers' indeed," the priestess laughs, drawing up her hood (cobwebs, dust) before padding across the threshold.  "Nothing here...that we can see.  Perhaps searching might yield some clue."  A thought crosses her mind.  "Either that, or the people hired gave an untruth regarding their home, and this place has been deserted for a long, long time."

"That was...anti climatic." Arkan murmmers, glancing into the gloom beyond the open door. It seems his earlier suspicions might be true, their target had fled the coop.
Or perhaps not been here in some time.

Cautiously he steps across the threshold, following behind Eileen, a hand resting lightly on the hilt of the massive blade across his back.

He glances around quickly, trying to gauge if there is enough space inside for him to draw and wield his blade with ease, if needed.

Eilieen is probably pleasantly surprised by the almost complete lack of dust and cobwebs in the house.

Looking about, Kallana seems more mystified.  "Three weeks ago I was here, delivering a message from the High Justicar.  The rooms were filled with furniture, and there were servants.  Hells... I could even smell dinner cooking while I was here."

"So wait... this 'ere Feldon were livin' 'ere, an' now 'e's bein' gone, in no bleedin' time?"

"That does appear to be the case.  Unless he's just moved all the furniture to a different room."

"Is yer bein' sure yer's 'avin' the right place?"

"Almost like they knew something bad was coming, hm?" Erista suggests.  "I suppose it won't hurt to have a look around in case they dropped something or missed something little, anyway.  And we can talk to the neighbors, find out when he left.  Doesn't look like it's been more than a day or two, really.  Maybe he even said something like how nice the weather'll be in Such And Such, could give us an idea what road to look down, if we want to try," she suggests.

She starts walking deeper into the house, looking about for anything dropped or missed, or otherwise more interesting than a lack of dust.

Off goes the hood, Eilieen peering about her in bemusement.  Unlike Erista, she finds the lack of dust very interesting (pleasantly surprising, in fact!).  "So they were here, then," she muses.  "As Erista notes, this would indicate the entire group was party to the summoning."

She paces into the house after her diminutive (in frame, not spirit!) friend.  Erista can look for clues; Eilieen knows she would be hopeless at such things.  Instead, she considers possibilities.  "Arkan, might everything have been moved out of here with sorcery?"  The priestess taps her finger against her lip, deep in thought.  "I strongly doubt a priest of the vile demon-god would carry the divine power to empty a home, but I suppose..."

OOC - Going to try a Religion Roll, why not?  :)  Not like I have any other useful skills for this situation...Edit: 18, might as well have taken 10.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:09, Thu 02 June 2016.

"Sorc'ry'd be doin' it I's reckonin'" Colwyn gives his expert opinion, "Or a gang of 'efty lads, with a cart.  In the middle of the night maybe."

As they move through the house, a pattern emerges...  All of the rooms on the ground floor are devoid of furniture, and are clean.  The upper storey is a different story though.  There the rooms are still empty, but there are thick layers of dust coating the floors, and dirt-laden cobwebs festoon the ceilings.

Strangely though, the only spiders to be seen appear to be dead.  All of them.

Colwyn casts an expert eye over the dust.  "'alf a year.  No bugger's cleaned up 'ere fer 'alf a year.  See, there's bein' a good layer of dust, an' nuthin's been disturbin' it.  Least ways not 'til Aarnr were jus' walkin' in there."

"I'd be likin' ter know what's been killin' all them there spiders.  Don't look like as it were bein' some bugger's shoe."

Using his knife the rogue scoops up a dead, but otherwise intact arachnid.

"I...don't really know." Arkan replies to Eileen after a long moment of reflection to her question. He nods though at Colwyn's response. "Indeed, it could be either, though most likely the latter. Sorcery is far to draining and dangerous to waste on moving nonessential items, like furniture."

As they explore the upper story Arkan gazes at the dust and dead spiders with some concern, a look of regret and frustration passing over his usually impassive features.

"This is not good. It appears obvious the ground floor was indeed inhabited until recently, as Lady Kallana has told us already. That can only mean our quarry has escaped, either after being forewarned or simply as a precautionary measure before the attack." He speaks softly, gazing at the dead arachnid impaled upon Colwyn's dagger wondering what the rogue might be looking for.

Does he think the dead spiders are some type of a clue?

"'e were livin' 'ere fer a bit.  That bein' right Kallana?"

The Justicar confirms it.  "The High Justicar, and other ranking members, dealt with Feldon here for more than two months before my visit."

"See, " Colwyn continues, "I's reckonin' as 'ow 'e were livin' 'ere all quiet like.  This is lookin' like a nice bit of town.  They got gardens, an' walls.  So Feldon's livin' 'ere, but 'e keeps 'is 'ead down, see?.  An' no bugger's seein' 'im.  An' if they's seein' the 'igh Justicar comin' ter visit, well... they's like as not thinkin' that the Justicars is lookin' ter get themselfs a 'ouse."

"What makes you say that?"

"On account of 'ow Feldon was only cleanin' the rooms what yer boss would be seein'.  Downstairs is clean.  Upstairs is lookin' like the dirty end of the stick."

Accepting Arkan's explanation with a nod and a thanks, Eilieen continues into the house, following along behind their sharp-eyed rogue.  Once they arrive at the upper floor, the hood goes up post-haste and she keeps her gloved hand over her mouth and nose.  Even when talking.

Speaking of which....

"Colwyn's thoughts make sense.  The spiders died from unholy power, I suspect," she murmurs through her fingers.  "Theories.  They wanted this house.  They took it.  Either the unholy emanations of their worship slew the small things of this house, or they, themselves, summoned the power to kill whatever lay within it before taking it.  Possibly a family, even.  If they were here for two months, who lived here before?"

A terrible thought.

"Half a year."  She closes her eyes, struggling to put things into place.  "They waited.  They must have known, or hoped, that your Justicars would need work done on the crypts.  And so they came, they made a name for themselves as stoneworkers, and waited.  Kallana, WHY did your order wish for the work to be done?  And for how long has this been discussed?"

Indeed the giant shoes are impressive, though given what he knows of shopkeeps, Aarnr naturally assumes the hedgepigs stole them.  A giant's head, on the other hand would leave no doubt.

Flowers are a concern, as they are either poison or attract a variety of unpleasant and invariably stinging or biting insects ... but the priest allows it does, somehow, seem to improve Eilieen's demeanour.  Perhaps she'll let him kill a few of the churlish masons after all.

The lack of those same masons, bedecked in black robes and chanting foul imprecations to their evil god comes as somewhat as a surprise to Aarnr, and he sees little point climbing the stairs ...

"The toad-knockers will be hiding below," he states, confidently.  "Those who breathe the dust of the grave shun the light for the dark places."

Kallana looks around the filthy room.  There is no furniture up here either, apart from a few broken items, thick with dust.  "We... we were expanding the crypt because we were running out of space to inter those of us who gave their lives in service to the Order.  The High Justicar decided that we should have a larger chapel down there too.  He spoke hopefully of recruiting more members, swelling our ranks, and said that the chapel would not be sufficient for services for so many.  He has been talking of this for years, and not just to the Order - he often attempted to raise money."

"Finally, this year, we could afford to at least extend the chapel."

And then a happier thought strikes, and she smiles at Eilieen.

"I don't think anybody was living here before these vile cultists.  At least not for some time.  There is no furniture up here, and I don't believe they would go to the trouble of removing it, not covered in dust as it would have been.  They found an empty house that suited their purpose, and just furnished the lower floor, for as long as they needed to."

Colwyn snaps his fingers, "That's soundin' right ter me.  It's bein' makin' more sense 'an killin' a 'ouse full of folk an' p'rhaps attractin' 'ttention."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ozzy backs Aarnr.  "It doesn't look like they were ever up here.  We should go back downstairs, like Aarnr said."

Sounds like doing it the hard way to Aarnr.  Easier to pick a house and kill everyone in it than go hammering on door after door, smashing your way into any that go unanswered in a long and tedious search for one that is lacking in furniture but has no shortage of dust and cobwebs.

Grinning fiercely, the priest leads the charge back downstairs and, assuming the place is lacking in obvious subterranean staircases or trapdoors, proceeds to search carefully (mainly by stamping his feet) for hidden portals.

"Froggin' puttocks," Aarnr mutters as the clouds of dust rise.

"Better news, that," Eilieen murmurs, "but it does not explain the spiders.  Perhaps old age?  I know little of such creatures."  She takes a moment to say a brief prayer beneath her breath; never one to adore arachnids, Eilieen can yet feel pity for them if they died due to Orcus' influence.

Nothing natural should suffer that fate.

"It seems you were being watched, Kallana," she continues as they treck downstairs (she watches Aarnr with a dubious eye, knowing full well his planstendencies*).  "They waited a long time, until you decided to make the changes.  They had advance warning, and were able to establish themselves.  This...indicates there is a presence in this city of Orcus' people, but not a strong one.  They could only watch, not attempt to take what they wished by force."

* Eilieen also knows full well that Aarnr doesn't 'plan', per se.

Arkan follows the others downstairs slowly, listening to the others and thinking a few things over in his mind.

"It is doubtful they would still be here, hiding out; anyone still here would likely have left before the attack. But I suppose they may have left more clues as to their next move," he says, looking at Aarnr as he stomped around trying to find a secret entrance.

Looking at Kallana he adds, "Perhaps it might be a good idea to ask about at the gates if anyone left town in a hurry recently, and which direction they went in?"

Erista giggles a little as Aarnr starts his subtle search.

Aarnr and Ozzy start their search, stirring up what little dust there is to be found on the lower floor.

Kallana, meanwhile, agrees with Arkan.  "I think you're right.  Feldon would have left as soon as he was sure this scheme was going to work.  The longer he stayed here after his people started working, the greater the likelihood that he would be visited by a group of Justicars."

Nonetheless, her right hand remains close to the hilt of her sword, just in case.

As Aarnr leads the search of the lower floor, there is an increasingly noticeable (and not altogether pleasant) smell, which grows stronger as they move nearer the back of the structure.

Finally the priest stands before a closed door which has several dozen flies crawling about on it.  While Aarnr barely notices the almost overwhelming stench, Kallana gags, and raises her left hand to pinch her nose.

"Ye think something died in there ?" Aarnr asks Kallana in a low rumble, lips stretching wide in manic grin.  It is difficult to tell whether the priest is delighted at the prospect or a bit put out that he's too late to claim the credit.

Eagerly he pushes the door open (or will give it a good kicking down should it prove to be locked) ...

Standing just behind Kallana Arkan wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Well, it appears we have found something after all," he mutters, waiting for Aarnr to open the door and steeling himself for whatever they would see.

He moved a little to the side, in order to make room to draw his sword in case it was needed. The door likely had only a rotting corpse or two, but it never hurt to be careful.

The door opens, sending up a cloud of flies and releasing an even stronger stench from the room behind it.  Kallana groans and turns away, heaving.

Beyond the door, the room looks to be a kitchen.  At least it contains a large stove, and a sturdy table with a stone slab top.  There is a second door, closed, which appears to lead out into a garden at the back of the house, at least that's what can be seen from the window near it.  A third door stands open, giving access to a larder.

And there are more flies swarming everywhere.  Hundreds of them.

The most likely reason for the presence of the flies is, of course, the body laying on the floor close to the table.  The parts of it that aren't covered by expensive-looking clothes are infested with maggots,  The cause of death also appears to be fairly obvious - the man has a ragged gash running across his throat from ear to ear, and his green velvet tunic is stained with dried blood.

Kallana's stomach finally gives up its desperate struggle, an she vomits on the floor outside the kitchen.

Wiping at her mouth with a corner of her cloak she points at the body and says, weakly, "That's Feldon.  He often wore that tunic."

The stench...the vile flies everywhere...Eilieen hides within her cloak hood, but it's to no avail; Kallana loses her breakfast, that sound and acrid smell joins the horror of the room, and Zadastha's priestess must perforce retreat lest she fall victim to the same malady.  "Goddess," she chokes, stumbling into the 'safer' hallway and moving some distance down it.  "Feldon might have been innocent," the priestess manages to croak out, covering her face again with the edge of her hood.

It doesn't help.

"Unless there is a basement, or Feldon has a letter upon him -" this said with the obvious intent of going nowhere near the body, herself "- we would be best following Arkan's idea of seeking word at the gates.  Far from here."  Turning away, she continues.  "If there is a room below, we should search.  For why would not these followers of Orcus create another circle ahead of time, this one to transport themselves?  It seems easier than fleeing afoot."

"Ech."  Erista holds her arm up to her face, pressing up under her nose to block out most, if not nearly enough, of the smell.  She doesn't look eager to wade into the cloud of flies and maggots, but she doesn't immediately back away, either.  "This looks like a good time to turn things over to the guards, doesn't it?" she suggests.

Aarnr might also find the foetid stench a tad unpleasant, but for the moment he has more important things on his mind.  "I thought ye said we weren't allowed to kill the puttock ?" he complains crossly to Eilieen's retreating back.

The priest approaches the deceased Feldon for a closer look, hoping to determine how long he's been dead.

"When's the last time ye saw the ... him ?" Aarnr asks Kallana.

"As I said, " Kallana manages to gasp, "I was here three weeks ago.  He was quite alive and well then."

Colwyn, a scarf wrapped around his mouth and nose, skirts around the room and opens a window to let some fresh air in (or to release the stink into the wild).  While he's there, he shoves his head out and takes a deep breath of cleaner air, before turning to address the room.  "So 'e were bein' killed maybe three weeks since?"

The priest shakes his head, "A week, ten days at most."  He seems inordinately proud of himself dealing with such big numbers, though is less certain of the implications.

Safe in the hallway - more or less - Eilieen calls out "When did the work start in earnest, Kallana?  Did the workers change at any time?  Feldon might be quite innocent - it's possible these people merely lurked about, waiting to see who would be hired for the work, then took advantage of that."

Waving away a few flies, she studies the corpse.  "To poor Feldon's detriment."

Standing outside the room with the rotting corpse Arkan covers his nose with a black gloved hand, peering at the scene in distaste. The flies bother him more than the body, their buzzing and swarming over the body grotesque and vile.

And the smell...Arkan's instincts scream to burn the room and the corpse with an Old Kingdom fire spell, the runes even flaming into life in his mind's eye, but then smothers the urge ruthlessly.

"Perhaps, or perhaps he was a loose end slaughtered when his assigned task was completed. Not an uncommon way certain cults and the like deal with lower ranking members," he states in reply to Eilieen's observations, his voice sounding somewhat muted behind the gloved hand.

"Although if Aarnr is correct and this occurred around a week ago, there might have been someone here to activate the portal from this end. Such magicks are not my forte so I cannot be sure." 

"Ye are froggin' right," the look that Aarnr bestows upon Arkan is probably more congratulatory than predatory.  "We must seek the other end of the bat-fowling portal."

So saying, the priest resumes the stomping about that proved so effective at locating dead bodies, in the certain knowledge that sooner or later he'll uncover a hidden way down to the basement where sufficient evidence may be found to ... well, probably a bit late to wreak dire revenge upon Felton, but there may be others in desperate need of being chopped into little pieces to atone for their crimes.

"Or maybe 'e were bein' part of the same gang, an' the others was bein' a bunch of greedy, backstabbin' buggers what was turnin' on 'im fer a extra bit of loot."  Colwyn nods his head, clearly confident that this scenario is common enough to be the most likely one.

Kallana, meanwhile, fields questions as best she can.

"I'm not sure.  I believe that the majority of the labourer's Feldom hired, right from the start of the work, came from Derindin.  Feldon apparently told somebody that they were cheaper than local workers.  If he later changed them, I never heard about it."

"The work started a little over three months ago, and they were still working in the crypt yesterday.  If I remember correctly, Feldon kept the same workers for all of that time."

Derinden.  Aarnr has some inkling that this is another of the gudgeon's cities ... and from the sound of it a place infested with foul worshippers of the demon lord of undeath and ripe for being razed to the ground in a bloody conflagration.

"We must set out immediately," the priest can barely contain his enthusiasm. "We will need oil and tinderboxes," the latter being one of the few achievements of civilisation that a son of the fens can really appreciate.  Trying to light a funeral pyre with two sticks in a rain storm does wonders for one's perspective.

"If'n I's 'memberin' me maps, we's 'avin' ter pass through Derindin on the road ter Rappan Athuk.  Reckon as 'ow we'll be 'avin' plenty of chance ter sack the place." Colwyn says, with a grin that fades quickly as a stray gust of wind carries a new hint of rot and decay to his nostrils.  "Maybe as we can be burnin' this 'ouse down, jus' ter get our 'and in, so ter speak.  It's like as not the only way ter be gettin' rid of the stink."

Ozzy looks up, "Might be better not to burn Derindin until after we've passed it.  From what I heard, it's built on a lot of bridges over a gully.  If we burn the place before we pass, then we'll destroy the road across the gully, and we'll have to go out of our way to move on to the Dungeon of Graves."

"So no burning," Eilieen notes.  "Thank you, Oswald.  But if the town is on our way, certainly we can pay it a small...visit."  Something unpleasant glitters in her smile, mostly hidden beneath her hood.  "Chat up some people.  Poke around.  Find a hidden temple to Orcus.  Cleanse it.  That sort of thing."

Oooo, yesssss.

"Thank you, Kallana, this has been most instructive," she continues, still from the (relative) safety of the corridor outside of the room.

Kallana looks about, "Can we leave now?  I want to report this to the High Justicar, and we should also inform the City Watch - it may have been the result of a falling-out between criminal cultists, but it is still a murder.  The Watch will want to look into it, and have the means to obtain more information."

His expression sour, Ozzy responds, "I don't care if they class it as murder or not, I just hope they don't bury the body on holy ground.  They should just find a marsh somewhere, and dump him there."

Arkan nods at Kallana, as he digests all the information. He has no knowledge of this town Derindin, but it sounds like they will be paying it a visit soon.

"Yes, we should be off and away. If they were still working in the crypts yesterday, the guards at the gate may even have seen them leave. We could learn something useful on our way out of the city and towards Derindin." He says, flexing a gloved hand absently as he speaks.

Eilieen allows Arkan to take the lead speaking with Kallana, though she shoots a quick glance at Oswald.  "I would be more than happy to vacate this place, immediately," she adds, hurrying toward the door.  Once out of the stench, the priestess slows.

"But I feel we should do something for Feldon's body.  Perhaps the Justicars can take care of that."  Her lips thin.  "It's possible he was quite innocent of everything - nothing but a dupe.  If so, can we take the chance?  Isn't it worth erring on the side of compassion?"

Colwyn laughs, as he follows Eilieen outside, "If 'e were bein' innocent, then why'd 'e be lyin' ter the Justicars 'bout this 'ere bein' 'is 'ouse?  Yer seen the rooms upstairs.  No bugger's been livin' there fer months, so why were 'e bringin' the Justicars 'ere ter talk 'bout workin' in the crypt?"

Sighing, Kallana agrees with the rogue, "I'm afraid he's right.  The High Justicar was under the impression that Feldon lived here, an impression that Feldon apparently fostered, and made no effort to dispel."

Outside the garden, the group look about for a patrol.  Sadly there is no sign of one.

Then Kallana suggests, "We are near to the East Gate.  There will be guards there, and they may have seen the labourers leaving.  Shall we head there, or shall we go to the Guard House, near the middle of town to speak to Lord Herrin, their commander?"

Aarnr scowls.

Not that anyone is likely to notice for his normal expression is one of barely contained rage and incipient violence.  But after being denied the chance to kill cultists, save for some vague hope that they might be found in yet another of these decadent havens where civilised folk cluster together in a disgusting and most likely unsanitary fashion, he is now faced with the prospect of talking to not one, but two lots of guards.  And like as not his companions' favoured method of interrogation will not involve blades at the throat, cutting bits off, or other such means of encouragement.

And while it's the priest's god-given duty to rid the world of guardsmen, along with other hell-hated creatures such as undead, arcanists (whatever those hedge-pigs are¹) and lawyers, he's fairly sure his friends will not share his views on such matters.

Oh, the burden imposed upon him by his grandmother's spirit to be nice is a heavy one indeed.

The scowl becomes a sulk.  It is perhaps the best anyone can hope for.


¹ a person professing special secret knowledge concerning ceramics, especially concerning the making of porcelain (from http://www.dictionary.com/browse/arcanist)

Eilieen sighs.  "Perhaps he was guilty.  Perhaps he knew of the connection to Orcus."  Her lips make a small smile.  "Perhaps he merely took money from people who needed someone to stand as their spokesman, someone who would not carry with them the vile aura of one who has become a servant of Orcus.  Perhaps his only guilt is in not asking enough questions, or taking money when he knew his benefactor was up to no good."

She shakes her head.  "For myself, I will not condemn a man to the Abyss for that, nor would I risk his soul for the possibility I am wrong.  But it is not my decision to make."

Pausing a moment, Eilieen casts a worried glance at Aarnr.  Bowbe's priest looks...well...it's hard to judge, but much like a young child whose candy has been stolen from them.  Disappointment?  Frustration?  Hard to say.

"I say the East gate, first.  We are near there, and if we discovered signs of our quarry's passage, we can move to grab our gear and go, hot in pursuit!"  Eilieen lets her voice rise.  "Perhaps then we can run them down upon the road!"

She shoots a quick look at Aarnr out of the corner of her eye, seeking some sign of interest.

Eilieen's words do improve Aarnr's spirits somewhat, as Bowbe's priest hopes that perhaps he might be the one to decide to condemn the puttock of a mason to the Abyss if she's not going to do it herself ...

... even the mention of the east gate does not dampen his new-found enthusiasm, though in fairness that might be because he misunderstands the priestesses reasoning to mean that it is those slovenly lackeys of despots and thieves (ie the guards) that might flee and thus become targets for his ire.

Aarnr nods, smiling.

Shortly afterwards, the group stand before the East Gate, which is currently opem, as throngs of people pass through it (both entering and leaving the city) under the watchful gaze of the ever-vigilant guardians of the city.  A second group of guards are near the gate too, taking a brief pause to drink water from a fountain with steel cups chained to it.

Kallana points to one of the guards at the gate.  "Kaed there is the commander of the gate watch.  If anybody can answer questions about who has passed out of the city of late, it would be him."  The man in question looks to be about the same age as the recently departed Sir Galdean, but clean-shaven, and his face is covered by a tracery of old scars.

"Tell him you are under my guidance, and he should help you well enough.  If he knows where his next cinnamon roll is coming from."

"Meanwhile, I shall speak to yonder patrol about Feldon, and his death."

She gives a nod, indicating the men around the fountain...

Nodding at Kallana's instructions, Arkan strode forward towards the guards at the gate, making straight for Kaed, gesturing at the others the join him; together they might be able to dig out the maximum amount of information from the guards they could.

"Good day commander Kaed, I am Arkan. I and my companions are under the guidance of Justicar Kallana." He said by way of introduction as he stood with folded arms in front of the grizzled vet, pausing to let his words sink in.

"We seek news of any recent departures from this gate, anyone who might have left in a hurry. Especially anyone from a group of stonemasons who were working on the temple of Muir for the past weeks." Arkan added, gesturing towards the open gate and adding a note of urgency in his voice.

Kaed scratches at his cheek, "Aye, I thought I saw Kallana with you.  I don't know about masons, as such, but give me a moment lad."  He disappears into the gate tower, and is actually gone for about three moments and a heartbeat.  When he returns he is bearing a large, leather bound ledger.

"Yesterday, an hour or so before we closed the gate at dusk." he indicates an entry in the ledger, "Eight men in a group went out along East Road.  The watch leader warned them about bandits on the road, it being so close to nightfall and all.  It says here that one of them said they would worry about the bandits if they met them, but they needed to leave right away, because they had to be back in Derindin before Waneday next week."

"Might they be the one's you want?"

Near the drinking fountain, Kallana can be seen talking to the patrol leader.  The man is waving his arm towards the north end of the city, but the Justicar shakes her head, and points in the direction of the house where Feldon's body, presumably, still lies.

Gazing at the entry in the journal with a furrowed brow, Arkan clenches and un-clenches a gloved hand, finally nodding at Kaed.

"Thank you for that information Commander. Did you notice any armaments on them, weapons, armor and the like, and if so, did any carry large warhammers of a sinister style? And did any appear unarmed or carry simple staves perhaps?" He queried Kaed, recalling the earlier battle against the cultist with the nasty and oversized hammer and wondering if this group was led by any such.

Working the portal would also take knowledge of sorcery, and given his own knowledge about matters arcane, Arkan knows most who study the Art, dark or otherwise, typically are not given to arts of a more martial nature for any number of reasons, be it mere arrogance, not having the raw physical talent to stand and fight another face to face or simply not having the time to master two completely different disciplines.

"Another thing if you would Commander, were these men mounted or did they journey on foot?" he added another question, hoping against hope the latter was true; if so they might yet be able to catch them.

Ardens eyes narrow.  The guardsmen seem to be going out of their way to be helpful, which suggests that they are lying through their teeth and trying to send the party off on a wild pheasant chase.  Though he'll grudgingly allow they did mention the chance of meeting bandits, which always cheers the priest up.

Perhaps it is Arkan's clever questioning that has the bladders at a disadvantage ? Though they be untrustworthy pignuts, Aarnr decides to suffer them to live a little longer.  He knows where they may be found should their words prove false.

Eilieen remains silent, figuring that Arkan will do better without well-meaning (or not, in Arkan's case) leaping in to muddy up the waters of information.  Instead, she starts working through their next movement: returning to the (close) inn and regaining their equipment to pursue the enemies with all haste.

"Derindin," she murmurs.  "Good.  We know where they are headed, and we are ready to give chase."

"Aye.  We was 'avin' ter be goin' there any'ow." Colwyn confirms cheerfully. "I's reckonin' as 'ow we's bein' lucky they wasn't 'eaded fer Reme or Fair'ill, those bein' where we was comin' from."

"This way we can be goin' after them, an' still be goin' the way we's wantin' ter go."

Shaking his head, Kaed says, "I didn't see them myself.  This entry was written by somebody on the late shift.  But there's no mention of wagons or horses, so it's fairly certain, I'd say, that they were on foot.  Even so, they have a sixteen or seventeen hour start on you.  And there's nothing to say that they didn't pick up horses somewhere outside the city."

Kallana rejoins the group, with news of her own, "That house was not Feldon's home.  Word is that he bought it almost a year ago, after the previous owners died of old age.  He'd been repairing it since then, planning to sell it for a profit."

"I'm seeing Feldon less as worshipper of evil, and more as 'unethical but duped'," Eilieen murmurs.  "I cannot give instruction, of course, but I would advise a proper burial."  She shrugs.  "It is better to be safe than sorry, and a man's soul is at stake."

One eyebrow rises at Colwyn's cheer.  "Well, if you are so pleased," Eilieen continues, "best we be on our way in pursuit!  Sixteen or seventeen hours is a great lead, but not insurmountable.  Perhaps we may yet catch them on the trail.  If not, we shall find them in Derindin."

Her fingertips itch at the thought.

"We should leave as soon as possible," the priestess muses.  "My thanks, commander, my deepest thanks.  Your information has proven of great import to the cause of righteousness."

Again, Aarnr has no complaint ... though since the priest sees burial as a unclean thing, that's entirely suitable for a pawn of evil, whether willing or deceived.  Besides which, further argument would only delay the pursuit.

And for another thing ...

"We will take the cart," Aarnr avows.  While he's quite prepared to run all the way to the next pit of evil, he doubts his companions would survive and they too deserve to mete out vengeance upon the tardy-gaited masons.  Nor would he shame his blood-brother whose legs though doughty are short.  Besides which, if they get hungry they can always chop the cart up for firewood and slaughter the beasts.

Nodding in agreement with his companions Arkan says, "Indeed there is nothing to it then than going after them immediately. A seventeen hour or so head-start is quite a bit, we must not give them time to receive word of what transpired here; it may cause them to scatter into smaller groups and then we will never catch them all."

Scratching his chin he glances at Kallana and inclining his head to the garrison at the gate says to her in a low voice, "Lady Kallana, could the Order perhaps spare any mounts they may have stabled here, so that we might catch up to them faster?"

Even Aarnr is impressed by the boldness of Arkan's request.  While unlikely that anyone is going to give them one, let alone several of such rare and valuable beasts, he applauds his companion's audacity.

Laughing, Colwyn shakes his head, unconvinced by the idea of Feldon's innocence.  "Even if this were bein' a 'ouse what he was ownin', it's not bein' 'is 'ouse, is it?  The one were he were livin'."

"So why were 'e lettin' the Justicars think it were?  Kallana were sayin' as 'ow she were smellin' food cookin', an all.  An' she were seein' servants.  I's reckonin' as 'ow 'e were knowin' what were 'appenin', so 'e were runnin' it from that empty 'ouse, so's he could just be movin' out when 'e were sure it were bein' done with."

The rogue shrugs, and chuckles nervously.  "It's 'ow I'd be doin' it.  If'n, yer know, I were bein' a filthy demon worshipin' cultist.  Like what I isn't bein'."

Kallana gives him a hard stare, and then replies to Arkan.

"The Order doesn't own any horses, apart from a couple of old, spavined nags that we sometimes use for hauling a wagon.  Justicars provide their own mounts, weapons, and armour.  It's part of their commitment to Muir, and to the Order."

"Valid points, Colwyn, but still there is doubt in my mind," Eilieen returns.  "Yet the decision is not up to me.  It is in the hands of those in this city...and we will soon not be here, ourselves."

With the question of the horses solved - 'No.' - Eilieen nods decisively.  "We should leave now, then."  She pauses.  "Now.  Then.  Rather, just now.  To leave."  Her eyes narrow.  "I go to gather my belongings," Zadastha's priestess notes.

Aarnr can't follow the tortuous trail of Colwyn's logic, but it appears the gist is that Feldon was himself a filthy demon worshiper and the rogue probably isn't.  The lack of gift-horses is disappointing, but not unexpected.

"Oxen. Cart." the priest repeats in agreement with Eilieen, though he waits for someone else to make the first move as he's not sure where in this sheep-biting city of fools that he's left them.

Arkan cannot help but nod at Colwyn's logic, and gives Eileen an apologetic look as he says, "I must agree with Colwyn, I believe the mason was in league with the cultists. Why they killed him is a mystery that we can only guess at for now, but perhaps interrogating one or two of these vile scum shall bring their reasons to light."

Being used to traveling light as it were since beginning his journey to these lands across the sea, Arkan has all his belongings upon his person including spare changes of clothing as well as rations in his handy travel bag, snugly strapped to his belt along with the tools of his trade.

Thus Arkan simply stands next to Kallana as the others ready themselves for the coming chase.