In reply to GM (msg # 144):

Brennan blinks.

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

He shrugs.

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

Here he pauses to gauge her reaction.

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

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 145):

She looks puzzled.

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

She smiles suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 147):

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

In reply to GM (msg # 148):

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

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 149):

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


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


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

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

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

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

Brennan looks gravely concerned at this point.

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

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

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

He clears his throat.

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

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

Brennan lowers his voice slightly.

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

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

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

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

He offers an assuring smile.

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

Brennan says the next bit more softly than the rest.

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

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 150):


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He coughs again, sinking back into his chair.

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

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

In reply to GM (msg # 151):

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

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

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 152):

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

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

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

His tone turns serious.

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

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 153):


The Governor leans back into his chair.

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

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

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

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

In reply to GM (msg # 154):

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

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

He frowns as he considers the book.

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

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

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

He glances over at the governor.

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

Brennan nods thoughtfully.

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

He smiles slightly.

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

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 155):

The Governor's assistant wobbles her head.

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

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

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

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

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

"Certainly as eu say, Lord Govnor."

In reply to GM (msg # 156):

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

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

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

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

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

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 158):

The Governor frowns at Ciryl.

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

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

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

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

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 160):

The Governor bristles again.

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

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

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

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

In reply to Ciryl Fontaine (msg # 162):

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

In reply to GM (msg # 163):

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

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

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 164):

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do eu have a plan fur investigation?"

In reply to GM (msg # 165):

Titus nudges Brennan in the ribs.

You see... sterner stuff than appears.

He says in an aside.

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

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 166):

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

In reply to GM (msg # 167):

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

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

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

In reply to GM (msg # 167):

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

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