The book seems to be in latin, no doubt some occult studies knowing her and it quickly loses your interest.

The next two days are spent for the most part in silence. The wagon jostles along, pulled by the two horses but when you wish to scout you can unfasten one and ride ahead. Amelia is more than capable of driving.

Her mood seems consistent, though you can tell as the days go by her previous anger seems to fade somewhat. Eventually only a trace of it remains, the rest of her silence you attribute to something else but you're not sure what. Oh well, women were impossible to read. She mostly only speaks when spoken to and then only as much as necessary. Though she's always referred to you as "Mr Browne" there's something even more formal about it than usual but she doesn't seem like she wants to discuss anything either; perfectly content to ignore you and pore over her book, which she reads twice over the course of your journey.

At night, you bunk in the wagon as usual. It's large enough that there's room for you both, though she stays as far from your bedroll as possible, or you have the option of sleeping underneath it too. When it rains she pulls a weather proof tarp over the top, forming a very claustrophobic tent of sorts but it keeps the rain off at least.

At last on the afternoon of the third day you reach a small town called Middle River, in Maryland. It's a tiny place with only the bare necessities; a train station (the most important thing there likely), a church, and a smattering of shops. Most importantly to you, there is a saloon and the tiniest inn you've ever seen. Amelia heads there to acquire lodging and soon plunks the key in your hand and informs you if you need her she'll be at the inn, then leaves without another word. It's not anger so much as it seems she's unsure of herself for some reason.

For you, the lure of the saloon is more of a draw. Amelia did not pack you any alcohol for the trip, and knowing her it was very much on purpose. You could use a good drink after the travel you've had, not to mention the grating of the woman's mood. As you enter the place you see it's quite small but busier than expected for a town this size. Perhaps there's nothing else to do but drink here. As you enter, several patrons look up in surprise and even perhaps suspicion. They clearly don't get many strangers. There's a long, tense silence as everyone stares at you, then the proprietor, a heavy set man in his fifties, breaks it. Pardon our stares sir, we don't get many...visitors? he arches a questioning brow.

Colin ignored the stares, much as he had ignored the pissy mood that Amelia seemed to be stuck in. The trip had been quite dry and he was ready to break that trend now. Drawing a few dollars from his wallet, Colin held them up to the barman. "I assume a visitor's money still works here?" He emphasized his point by placing it on the bar as he approached. He didn't order, however. Rather, he was more interested in what the barman thought Colin's money was worth.

Colin said nothing more, looking ever the part of a man simply looking for a drink. He had brooded, a thing he should not hold against Amelia for doing the same. He had slept under the wagon for the most part, save the occasional rain storm. His worry was that his actions and words had caused a rift between himself and Amelia that might never be patched. Instead he swirled the liquid in his glass and will his thoughts to leave him be.

He had been left alone with them too many time for his comfort to the trip and he was trying to drive the more dangerous and wrathful one from his mind. At this point, he would simply be content with a few hours of drunken stupor.

The barkeep's eyes move down to the money and widen. It's a lot of money to spend on drink and he probably needs it. He gestures for you to sit and gives you a generous glass of whiskey. I'll leave the bottle if you like. You look like you could use it. He puts it within your reach and goes about his business. No one seems really intent on talking to you, though plenty eyeball you as they mumble to each other. What's most concerting, however, is a particular fellow in the corner. He looks to be about forty with the deep tanned face and rough worn clothing of a farmer. He in particular watches you, draining cup after cup of what is probably the cheapest drink this place has to offer. He keeps grumbling something to his friend and they both look at you often though the farmer's face never leaves you, turning increasingly sour with every drink. As time goes by he starts to get aggressive and points to you drunkenly. Why are we just lettin him sit there? he slurs angrily, standing up. His friend tries to pull him back down but he pushes him away, stumbling toward you. Five people go missing and then this lout happens by? I'll bet you my last dollar he had somethin to do with it! He's closing in on you now, but the others are keeping him at bay. The barkeep apologizes profusely. So sorry sir! Andrew here isn't in his right mind. We've had a bit of...trouble of late. People like to find a scapegoat.

Colin slammed back his current glass and stood, motioning to the barman not to worry, as he squared up with the drunk. "Not too smart, are ya, boyo? Ain't much brains if you think you can stare me down and insult me without cost. How about we take this outside and you can find out the butcher's bill?", Colin asked in a menacing tone. He needed a good brawl to clear his mind, but he wanted to make sure he didn't cost the barman anything inside. No sense trying to find out what was going on if he had just caused a wreck of the place.

He real goal was more to help get the man outside. As ready as he was for a fight, there was no sport in beating a drunkard. The drunk was likely eager to follow if he thought he was going to get what he wanted. Colin gave a quick nod of his head and a wink to the drunk's friends. "Come on, lads. Help the man outside so we can get this over with."

OOC:Basically trying to lure the man outside with the promise of a fight and then let his friends take care of it. Colin has no real interest in fighting but is ready to act if the drunk gets away from his friends.

The drunkard is eager to take you up on your offer and stumbles outside after spitting at you, luckily his aim is not too good...

His friends try to deter him of course but he's determined, rambling on and on about how you must know something. When the both of you are out behind the establishment he immediately takes a swing at you in spite of his friend's efforts. You can tell that most of them are genuinely trying to stop him but others probably share his opinion, looking at you with great suspicion.

To your surprise his swing actually hits! It glances off your chin though and is so weak in comparison to what you're used to that it's almost laughable.

Colin took the blow on the chin and simply stood. He gave a hard glare, looking as if the blow had not even registered. He spoke to the man in a cold tone, much more threatening than what he had been using in the bar. "I've done nothing to you or yours, but if you lay hands on me again, you won't be getting up till the morning." He twisted his neck, causing a sickening cracking sound.

He looked to the friends trying to control the drunk. "Take him away and find me in the morning. I might be able to help with your problem."

11:30, Today: Colin Browne rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Intimidate Drunk.

The drunk looks terrified, and backs up so quickly that he stumbles and falls squarely on his rump before turning and scrabbling away. Even the other men look stunned and properly cowed. Under other circumstances it would amuse you that you could cause such fear just by taking a punch, but your mood is too sour to chuckle about it now.

All the men flee save one, a thin, middle aged fellow with a sinewy face that's seen far too much sun and not enough sleep. He alone is not intimidated but rather, intrigued. You've clearly seen a fight or two in your day he muses. He does not sound the least bit inebriated. You'll have to forgive those fools. Small town folk have even smaller minds. People have been going missing of late you see. Too many people. Your offer is kind but I doubt you can really help with that...or can you? he arches a curious brow. You can tell this man is made of sterner stuff than most and you'd wager a silver dollar he's seen plenty of horrors of his own. I'm Henry by the way he extends a weathered hand.

Colin returns a cocked eyebrow but reaches forward and takes the man's hands. "Colin," he says. Looking after the fleeing men but they had already fled. Turning his attention back to Henry, Colin sniffed. "Sounds like you know something more than people are simply vanishing. I'm a hunter of sorts. I can help with these sort of issues," he comments. His attempt to fish for more information was not subtle in anyway, but either this man knew more than he let on or was simply more observant. Either way, he had information that Colin was now interested in.

The firmness of the man's handshake implies he's stronger than he looks but as he moves you can see he's got quite a limp to hinder him too. And I'm afraid I don't have answers for you my friend other than I've seen this kind of thing before. he shakes his head. Back in the war, some thirty odd years ago He gives a dry, mirthless laugh. This state was a real mess back then. Couldn't make up its mind whether it was union or confederate. Caused a lot of problems too, I'll tell ya that much, but you're not interested in old war stories. You see, I was born and raised in this town. I remember just about everything whether I want to or not. I was in my twenties when this happened. Disappearances just like now. We thought at first it was soldiers from the other side, takin out their anger on whoever they could, or maybe just getting folk's wallets, never can tell with some people. Dozens were taken. Where, I never could find out. There was some dark joke that the takings only stopped because they ran out of people to take! And now, it's happenin again... he eyes you with sudden shrewdness. Tell me, Colin was it? Are you a superstitious sort of man?

Colin listened intently and when Henry directed his question at Colin, Colin shook his head. "Worse, Henry. I'm a God fearing man. I believe you. Young as i might be, I have some old war stories of my own to tell someday. I hope that day never comes. Some stories should stay untold. Tell me more, Henry, and I hope I will be able to help. God put me on this Earth to do just this."

I'm not surprised by any of that he gives a dry smile. I've been around enough soldiers to know the eyes of one, even if your war wasn't the traditional type, makes no difference. Now, this next part will seem pretty incredible. I haven't told anyone else about this because as you can see, they're paranoid enough already. A few years back I went to go visit my sister up north. Things were goin well enough til I went for a whiskey at the local tavern. To my complete shock I saw a man. Wilfred Muggins was his name. He was one of the folk that disappeared some thirty years ago. The crazy part is, he hadn't aged a day! he still looks stunned himself by the memory. At first I thought I was seein things, or going daft but I called out to him and he turned when I did. He recognized me, I could see it in his eyes, and then he ran like a bat outta hell. I never saw him again and some days I wonder if I didn't imagine the whole thing but I do know there are things on this earth we don't understand and I can't help but think it all means somethin

"Your not crazy, mate. That's for sure. You would be surprised by the number of crazy things this world has forgotten. They used to try and scare us as children with stories, then we grew up and forgot that the stories were real," he commented as he thought over the tale. He would have to do some more snooping and eventually bother Amelia with this. At least to tell her to continue if nothing else.

He clapped the man on the shoulder and pointed to the bar. "As a local, you can give me the history of your town. I have a bottle of whiskey still waiting for me and could use and tale and a friend to finish it. What do you say, Henry?"

OOC: Colin doesn't have any Knowledge skills that would come in handy here, but getting a history of the town might help Amelia make a guess at the true nature of things.

Henry looks pleased at your interest and takes you up on it, entering the bar with you and finding a quiet corner to converse. The rest of the patrons give you wary looks, but, seeing Henry has accepted you, they lapse into a comfortable silence, ignoring you. It helps that the drunkard has been sent home to sleep off his temper.

Henry is an excellent storyteller. He's clearly seen and done many things over his life and though he isn't a hunter that you can tell, you have a feeling he wouldn't be surprised at anything you have to say. His time in the war has clearly scarred him, both his crippled leg and his soul. Still, he has a grim sense of humor and a light in his eyes that makes you like him immediately.

In regard to anything relevant, there are a few cases in years past of a person or two showing up dead with their throats cut and this raises some concern with you. It certainly will help narrow things down. As of late though, the biggest issue is people going missing. All in all twelve in the last two months. No trace of them at all, just gone. At least for once it isn't children.

You know...talking about it with you has me thinking he frowns as he takes another long drink. Most of the disappearances take place within a two mile radius of each other. Not all mind you, but nine out of twelve probably means somethin. It's gettin late and I have a busy day in the mornin but if you like tomorrow night I can show you? Young eyes like yours might pick up somethin he shrugs.

Colin enjoyed the stories. It had been a long time since he had a friendly drinking partner and it always helped to listen to the stories of the older generations. The tales they told deserved to be remembered, for the most part. When the drinks were done and the stories all told. Colin finished his drink and nodded to Henry. "I'm staying at the inn. Might take a bit of rousing after tonight, but I'll be ready when you come by. Just let he front man know. As far as I can tell, I'm the only Irishman here!", Colin commented with a laugh. He stood a made to shake Henry's hand. "See you in the morning, old timer," he said with his trademark wry grin.

Colin left Henry and made his way back to his bed. He was just in the right state of mind to leave a note for Amelia about his plans for the morrow and whether or not she decided to join, she would know what he was doing.

Within two minutes of your leaving the note you get a quiet knock on your door. It is Amelia. Due to the late hour she's in her dressing gown, an elegant embroidered red muslin thing with full skirts and just enough bodice open to reveal the white lace of her nightgown. Leave it to Amelia to wear something like that in a small town like this. Her pale hair is in a braid, she probably wouldn't be caught dead with it loose, and her face is a bit hesitant but far from the icy prim expression you've become so used to lately.

How drunk are you? she waits a second to peer at you, trying to figure out your ability to listen. You are pretty tipsy honestly, though you've been inebriated enough times to be pretty functional in spite of it. She rushes on anyway with only the slightest look of disapproval. She must be getting used to you. Look, I heard about the disappearances too. The woman who showed me my room had a mouth that never stopped even to draw breath. I definitely think staying an extra day is a good idea. Now, looking at your note it seems you and this Henry fellow have probably got things pretty covered but the maid told me of a second location where people tend to disappear. I think perhaps I will investigate that while you go with Henry. I assume night will be the best time, considering that's when the disappearances happen. What do you think? Oh! And I need to find a graveyard. Minnie told me there's one a few miles outside of town. Perhaps you could help me in the morning if your head is up to it. We'll need to exhume a body. She talks in a rush of excitement. Any lingering resentments or frostiness completely gone from what your drunken mind can gather.

Colin simply stared at Amelia with his head slightly cocked as she went on her rant. When she was down, he remained silent for nearly a full minute. One of his eyes squinted as if he was trying to focus on her and his next statement had the curious tone of someone who was not sure if the information he was providing was correct. "I thought you were mad at me," Colin simply stated as he leaned in slightly to peer at her. He was drunk enough to ask the question, but not yet drunk enough be bolder. While she was talking to him, he might as well air the bad laundry and that likely wasn't going to be something he did without alcohol in his system. Besides, in this state, he wasn't sure if he should inflect his words to form a question or leave it a statement.

OOC: Colin will sleep off the hangover that is coming and generally relax while he has time.

During the initial silence Amelia looks comically unsure, as if wondering if you heard her, then she's completely taken aback at the bluntness of your question. For a long moment she stares back with wide blue eyes, and you think you see her eye the door for a second. Perhaps she thought herself safe with your inebriation.

Oh.... she sounds half strangled, squirming uncomfortably. That was...complicated. I don't think mad was the right word so much as...upset. I...just had a hard time reconciling myself to how you truly think of me. But then I cannot help my privileged upbringing anymore than you can your tragic one.  So long as we can work together I don't see a need to revisit the discussion do you? she shakes her head, quickly reasserting her usual society face; a faintly pleasant if overly formal expression. You know her well enough by now to recognize what it truly is. Armor.

She wasn't getting out of it that easy. "You damn well better believe we are coming back to this, lass. Whatever this is, it needs to be resolved. I can't have you all prissy with me now that I know about your da'. Seems like you have two bastard men in your life right now, so you best figure out which one you like more. I was dead serious before. I don't take threats or beating lightly. If your father comes after me for talking to you, you best let him know to kill me before he leaves. He won't survive another encounter with me. You know I mean it too," Colin said with a hard look. He kept it for a moment but it quickly faded.

"Look here, Amelia. I know you ain't seeing me. You see a hard-headed, younger, Irish version of your father. We are alike in many ways, I gather. Problem is, our paths can see each other but I ain't on the one that allows for bullying and beating women. I ain't the on the one that threatens friends and strangers because they disagree. I came to this country when I was a young lad. I know the brow beaters well enough to spot them. Growing up and the same when I was hunting holds; you never let them take advantage. If you do, it will always happen. Doesn't matter how you see me, doesn't matter how he sees me. All that matters is how you see yourself. Don't let him define you. I know I don't," he said and left the conversation in her hands.

Amelia listens with surprising irritation, her deep blue eyes narrowing and her full lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval. This has nothing to do with my father you drunken oaf! she snaps. You would fixate on that wouldn't you? I told you before, he's no concern of yours and I can and will handle him myself! She grips the heavy velvet folds of her glorious dressing gown with white knuckles though there is a flash of fear in her eyes at the mention of him, quickly replaced by her anger once more.

I'm not angry about that, I'm angry about that filth you said about ME!  You said I was just like all the other men of letters, that I sneer down at you from my gilded cage and that I'm so spoiled and privileged I couldn't possibly fathom what it's like to be you. And maybe you're right, I already TRIED to apologize, not that you seemed to notice, and why I do not know. It's not MY fault I was born to money. With a father like mine it's not a good trade off I assure you! What makes me the most FURIOUS with you is that you see me like all the other close minded snobs who look down at men like you when I had hoped our work together would at least have given me the benefit of the doubt! Do you know how many of the letters work with hunters directly like this? I could count them on one hand. I am NOT like those fools who only see you as soldiers to be used and disposed of. I'm right here with you, you idiot! Does that mean nothing!? She stamps her slippered foot at the last word for emphasis. You've never seen her so mad. But you're right, I don't know what it's like to be you and I never will. I do admit my advantages and I will never know what it's like to live as you did. That doesn't mean I am what you think me but since you're so determined to pigeon hole me, fine. Think what you want, I don't care anymore. I just want to get the work done. Her previous fire simmers down at her last statements, her usual composure trying to reassert itself and with fair success, save for the embers still glowing hot in her eyes.
And by the way you're nothing like my father. You may be a drunk half the time and a toad the other, but you're one of the finest men I've ever known.She admits grudgingly,
This message was last edited by the player at 14:31, Mon 19 Feb 2018.

Colin listens carefully but sits down heavily by the time Amelia has finished. "I've cocked this up nice and good," he mutters a little louder than he intended. Before long, Colin is rubbing his forehead with one hand hard. Suddenly he start to chuckle. It turned shortly into a true laugh and his hand came down. "God bless the fools of the world," he said and inhaled deeply. When he released the breath, he stood up and approached Amelia. Shooing her back towards her room, he spoke in a congenial tone that betrayed his nervousness. "Only one way to settle this so that we are both able to look at each other without anger again. Go get changed into something simple to go out in. We are getting a drink, maybe more than one, and having a right row of the issue. We are going to continue to air out our frustrations until there is nothing left. When that is done, we are going laugh until our sides hurt at how big of an idiot we both have been about this. No arguments."

His eyebrow cocked and he took a much more stern look. The intensity was lacking and didn't carry much weight behind it. He had run out of ideas by this point and they were going to sort it out the only way he knew how; by getting famously drunk and ripping each other's armor down until the heart of the matter was really exposed. When all was said and done, they will have beaten the issue into the ground and put it behind them. Colin knew that they had only really scratched the surface. Amelia had said her peace, but there was more. There always was. Plus, it seemed like Amelia could use a night of drinking to calm her nerves after they left the city.

She looks surprised at your words, and at mention of drinking her blue eyes go huge. Drink? I've never had a drink in my life! she gasps. Then her eyes narrow and her face sets. I suppose if it will set things to right....but I'm only having one! And if you tell anyone about this...well I'll do something really bad to you! she warns, unable to come up with a properly scary threat.

Soon she changes into the simplest thing she owns, which of course isn't very simple at all, and uncertainly follows you back to the bar. You're already pretty tipsy as it is so even though you lead her you're not exactly steady on your feet. You can tell she's uncertain though but follows you inside anyway. The barkeep looks surprised to see you back, and even more so at so fine a woman in his seedy establishment. He offers you whiskey which she rejects saying she can't stand the smell and if she's going to throw away a lifetime of morals, even if just for a night, she's going to make it something more refined. Spotting a bottle of green liquid behind the counter, she points to it and asks what it is. The barkeep, fighting a look of amusement, says, Absinthe my dear. It's nicknamed the green fairy. Lovely looking thing isn't it? It is! Alright, I shall have a small glass of that! she proclaims with false bravado. As he pours the drink she turns to you. Well, this whole thing was your idea. You start.

ooc: Go ahead and do your thing. Also, be sure to roll a fortitude save please to see how hammered you get.

Colin nodded after a moment and slammed a shot of rye whiskey down hard. "Guess that is fair. Where to begin though? You know I though you were an angel the first time I saw you? A true angel sent from heaven to watch over them children. But then you decided to shepherd me. Truth is, I'm little more than the dog most lettered men see us hunters as. I figured you were the same, a guiding hand to steer the fangs and beat the cur along the path when required. You did, at times, crack the whip, but more than that. You let me see light. I lost what I was before I met you. Hell, I threatened to kill a priest before I met you. I was a wild thing," Colin said and slugged another shot down.

"First I figured you were different was in that town. You rained down fire like a plague from the Old Testament upon that witch. You never did flinch in the face of a demon. My brave, Boston angel. I knew the truth of it when that bastard tried to gut you on the roof. You had trained a loyal dog. Fierce and protective. That's why I got so angry. When you defended your father, I thought to myself that the wool had been pulled over my eyes good and tight. I was a tool and that was that. When we came here, that is what I still thought. Not that you were angry at me for being the pig-headed lout that I am, but for still wanting to protect you from your father. From someone that outranked you as a Man of Letters. I thought you were angry your loyal attack dog was out for blood and should have heeled," he said and trailed off. Already having a few drinks, Colin was blinking a lot and rubbing his face, but still seemed coherent.

Amelia listens, completely stunned. Her drink untouched for now as she turns several shades of red at your compliments, and then a bit irritated at your assumptions. When all is done she simply gapes a moment, shakes her head and then mutters something about getting it over with. She then drinks her shot of absinthe and laughably her face twists into complete disgust, looking at the glass in awe. That is...revolting! she gasps. Green fairy my elbows! How do you drink this!? Her face twists again and she shudders, pushing the glass as far away as her arm will reach. Please tell me one drink is enough? I don't know if I could do that again...I will say though, you're completely wrong. About everything. I am no angel as I'm sure you've noticed, and I never saw you as a watchdog. It seems there are some assumptions made that need discounting, by both of us. she shakes her head. I have a deep, deep respect for hunters. My late fiance was a hunter, remember? I do not expect your obedience, you've always done what you wanted whether I thought it right or not Colin. The reason I want to keep you from my father is simply because if you give him a reason, he will kill you, or at the very least do something nearly as heinous. I only want to keep you safe. That is all. She looks down at her hand then, flexing her fingers uncertainly. My fingers tingle. Is that normal? she looks slightly concerned.

Colin chuckles as Amelia sputters over the absinthe. "You're supposed to pour it over sugar first, my dear. Makes it more palatable. As for the tingling, you've had barely enough to count as a drink. The tingle is likely something else," he said before trailing off and staring at the bottle of whiskey. It was a long moment later that Colin spoke up again.

"You know it's wrong, right? The way your da' thinks. He is a prime reason why hunters don't like men of letters. Too much posh. We can go back and forth as much as we want, but the simple truth is this, Amelia; if I stick around, either me or your da' will end up dead. We can't co-exist and I think you know that," he finished and took another drink, sipping it this time.

At your words of her tingling, she shakes her head. But I really do feel it! In my fingertips! she insists. She's sober as a priest on Sunday but she keeps rubbing her fingertips in wonder.

She puts her hands in her lap though at your next statement and locks eyes with you, unblinking and unflinching. Well that leaves two options. You can leave, if you want. Stay as far away from my mess of a family as you can, I wouldn't blame you for a moment. Or, you can stay and trust me to deal with it. I've long known the day would come when I'd have to take down my father. One way or another. It's why I learned my...skills in the first place. she says carefully. As a child, when he wasn't trying to tame me he was beating on my mother. She's so used to it now I think it's taken the fun out of it for him. I've hated him as long as I can recall. He forbid me to learn our...craft, but Victoria...well we've been friends since we were children. She's taught me much. I think I've found a path that will allow me victory, but it's a long one, and like all victories it comes at a price. Don't worry on me though Colin. I can handle a few bruises here and there and in spite of the fact that he's a terrible man, he's been a powerful tool against the types of things you and I must deal with. It would be foolish to take out the best weapon we have before the battle is done. When the time is right, when I'm stronger...well. As I've said, either way it's not your concern silly man she finishes with a sad little smile.