A carnival air presided in the city of Lepidstadt. A carnival air that sat like a gaudy layer of frosting over a rotting blood pudding. A porcelain facade of joviality layered over a dark mob mentality, a hidden thirst for blood under the civilized veneer of the bustling city.

The Beast of Lepidstadt had been caught at last.

A creature of nightmare, the terror of Vieland, progenitor of a thousand tall tales, secretly blamed for every mishap and mysterious disappearance in the area for years. And now captured, in all its horror, after a savage attack on the University of Lepidstadt.

Ostensibly the crowds had gathered for the trial of the century. But everyone knew the foregone conclusion. What verdict could there be but 'Guilty'? In truth the crowds had gathered, filling the inns, for one reason: to watch the beast burn.

Already a great frame of sticks and kindling was being erected in the square outside the courthouse.

And yet, not all were convinced of the beast's guilt. For every ten tales of the beasts savagery one rumor was whispered that it had emerged from the night to save a man from an overturned cart, or return a child lost in the woods, or pull a drowner from a rushing stream. These were of course dismissed as nonsense in most minds.

But they were enough to plant the seed of doubt in one mind at least, Judge Embreth Daramid, who sat the high seat of justice in Lepidstadt and was presiding over the trial of the beast itself. Such was her love of justice that even the dreaded Beast would receive a fair trial. No mob justice would prevail in her city.

And to that end she had called to her home six souls, six adventurers, six to which she would commission an impossible task: to investigate the crimes of the beast and prove conclusively its guilt...or innocence.

---

The judge's home was a large townhouse in the center of Lepidstadt, several blocks from the courthouse and the jail. It was finely appointed but not ostentatious, with dark wood paneling and finely woven carpets, intricately carved trimming and spacious ceilings. The walls were a gallery of fine art, a collection that would make any museum keeper green with envy. The furnishings were masterfully crafted in the simple, austere style of the last century.

A plump maid led the last of our heroes into a small sitting room with a polite curtsy.

"The Judge will see you shortly."

SCG sits on a rug in front of the fireplace servicing his boots.  The heavy steel shield still strapped across his back, a magnificient longsword, longbow and a cold iron morningstar decked out nearby.


The only thing that draws any attention to him is a wooden carved holy symbol of Abadar around his neck.

He thought his friends were not far behind and he hums a tune off key and off kilter, that would surely know he is no bard and not used to just sitting about.

Every now and again he glances through his dark hair and towards the front door.....

Beside one very comfortable-looking settee loomed an older fellow, weathered and grim, exhibiting all of the dignity and welcoming social graces of a haunted gargoyle in a children's nursery.  Whether the hunch was congenital or the result of a generation's worth of hard manual labour was a matter for speculation, but even with the stoop his inhumanly broad shoulders stood at eye level for the average man.

Here and there light glanced off metal peeking out from the leather of his greatcoat, its internal plates visible as the result of sartorial misadventure, but polished nonetheless.  In fact, despite the discolouration of his aged shirt and the holes in his breeches, stitched shut with an overengineering of thread, he gave an impression of being scrubbed up for the occasion.  Both scalp and lantern-jaw were freshly-shaved, and anyone passing near caught a strong whiff of soap and Lepidstadt Leather Liniment from his person.  Massive hob-nailed boots were polished to as much of a sheen as their ancient scuffing would allow, and even his fingernails were tidily trimmed (the odd fresh nick implying that they'd been attended to with something better suited to carving than cuticles).

One hand's crude manicure tapped an arrhythmic beat against a bulging coat-sleeve as he stood, arms crossed, systematically scowling at the furniture and artwork whilst avoiding eye-contact with any other arrivals.  Occasionally the restless hand would divert to test the smoothness of his chin, or fiddle with the fastening of one of the pouches strapped across his chest, or check his coat pockets. Each time those fingers moved the tentacles tattooed thereon seemed to writhe insidiously, making any other markings on his body appear positively benign by comparison.

Garland removed his purple hooded travelers cloak and hung it on the nearby coat rack before he sat down by the fire. Clothed in a jet black breastplate that was made of the finest steel and the skill of an expert smith. He wore his holy symbol openly on his right shoulder that hung by a chain and from his belt anyone could see the crossbow and bolts as well as a heavy mace.

He removed his gauntlets and set them aside before holding out his dexterous hands, hands that had seen much blood over the years but also saved many lives. He stood there warming them next to Constantine and speaks softly "This beats the rainy nights on the road and the ghosts of an old prison trying to kill us."

Shade perched on a single chair, one close to a wall with a clear view of the door.  The three men already here were tall, strong, and most were well-armed, which could betoken a degree of wealth or high rank.  But the stooped man looked like he'd been plucked from a job of hard labor and scrubbed up, while the man with the longsword had plopped himself down on the carpet to tend his own boots with no hesitation.  It seemed that whoever the judge had asked to come were not just skilled, but practical too.

Shade was small and thin, looking barely out of adolescence, and her feet dangled slightly above the floor as she sat.  Her hair was light brown and looked as if it had been hacked off at irregular intervals to keep it out of her face.  A slim scarf and a strand of beads tied it up out of her way.  Her clothing was second-hand but sound and clean and fairly sturdy, with no stains and any rips or weaknesses neatly mended, a simple tunic, vest, and divided skirt in sensible grays and tans.  Her boots were particularly fine, tall and blue and close-fitting, and fine ivory kid gloves covered her hands.  Her dark eyes seemed large in her thin face, and she watched the others like an owl, occasionally flicking from one to the other.  A black cat with golden orange eyes rode upon her shoulder, occasionally switching to her lap for more tributes of petting.  The little jewelry Shade wore was simple and inexpensive, but also close-fitting rather than dangling; nothing that might get snagged while moving in a crowd... or glint too brightly in dim light to give one away.

The priest of Pharasma... or warrior of Pharasma, whoever he might be, seemed to be the richest one in the room.  But spoke to the sitting warrior as if they were friends.  So, not one to stand on protocol overly much, which boded well.

"Be better with some mulled crabapple cider from Lindy's stall, if'n we'd had to wait outside," Shade offers, her and the cat tilting their heads at the same time, inviting a response.  "'Tis a far sight cozier in here, though, considering the mood out there."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:28, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

“We came out the better for the experience and some of those spirits are now at peace.”

SCG extends a hand to his friend as he prepares to hop up.
“It appears we should introduce ourselves to the man and the girl.”

Rising to his feet he extends a hand to the man....
“Sir Constantine Godalming a Paladin of redemption.”

He waits to see if the girl and cat approach him...he muses that both seem skittish and shy creatures
This message was last edited by the player at 13:27, Tue 05 Nov 2019.

After a brief wait and another arrival or two another maid, younger than the other, bowed into the room with a curtsy.

"The judge will...see you now." She began smoothly but blanched when she straightened and spotted Vadim and Constantine. The latter looked more than presentable, but half orcs were a rare sight on the streets of Lepidstadt. And the former's rough and tumble appearance, even as oiled and polished as he was, looked decidedly out of place in the fine appointments of the judge's sitting room. Never the less the young maid bowed politely and motioned for them to follow her.

She led them to the upper floor of the townhouse, down a short corridor, to a thick walnut door. She rapped softly and then pushed it open, bowing again and motioning for the small group of adventurers to precede her.

The room was a high-ceilinged study with the same dark paneling and a wide window that looked down onto the street. It was modestly spacious, although the rows of bookshelves holding thick tomes of law and leather case files made it seem more crowded than it was. A heavy desk covered with meticulously organized documents dominated the rear half of the room, and behind the desk sat the austere figure of Judge Embreth Daramid.

She was a tall, wiry woman with a stern face, lined by age and care, white hair swept up in a severe bun, the heavy robes of her office shrouding her like armor. She looked formidable despite her age, with piercing eyes that sparkled with intelligence and a quirked mouth that could have shown amusement or calculation.

She rose politely, nodding to each guest.

"Shade. Mister Karamazov." She greeted them warmly. Neither of their acquaintances with the judge had begun on a high note. But in the end they had proved both their trustworthiness and their competence.

Her tone was more neutral with the others, polite and professional.

"You must be Professor Lorrimor's associates. Welcome. I was saddened to hear of his passing. Please, sit." She motioned to a semicircle of comfortable ladderback chairs in front of her desk and took her seat as well.

"Emmeline, please bring tea for our guests." She said over their heads to the maid still hoovering in the doorway.

"Unless you would prefer something stronger?" She asked, although something in her tone said that she wouldn't approve of that so early in the morning.

Darcon was silent as entered the room, just as he had been in the waiting area of the townhouse, studying the others invited to meet with the judge. He wondered again the circumstances that had led them here, their fame and actions in Ravengro no doubt preceding them and leading them to be chosen for this investigation.

"Tea will be fine my lady," he replied softly, taking a seat on one of the chairs and directing a small smile towards Judge Embreth, though his eyes did not contain any mirth. "I appreciate your consolations, no doubt you were too busy with affairs here to attend the Professor's funeral."

"Yes your honor we are all friends of the professor, and we are still seeking the one who murder him, a horrible business.  His daughter though is safe and coming along in her own right, perhaps she will one day be a scholar as well."

SCG nods at the person bringing in the tea, hoping that the cups are not delicate or small.

He sips the tea as slowly as he can muster....

The maid's announcement had forestalled any response to Sir Constantine's introduction, and the man called Karmazov had followed along in silence.  When addressed by the judge a light flush ruddied Karamazov's neck and cheeks, and the man put a hand to his imaginary hat-brim.

"Your Honour," he managed thickly, before stepping aside to allow her to address the others.  A practiced spiral gesture with one hand, half benediction, half ward, was evoked when Daramid expressed her condolences over the Professor's passing;  the same motion had been made in the sitting room at mention of ghosts.  Taking in the view from the judge's window as he waited for the others to take their pick of the seats, he adjusted the iron band at his throat;  somewhere between a gorget and a slave-collar, this was a much more utilitarian version of the decorative neck protections which had been all the rage amongst the upper classes a few seasons ago.

Gingerly he eased himself into one of the last chairs, after waiting stiffly for Embreth to be seated;  Judge Daramid's suggestion of "something stronger" elicited a quick glance of interest, but the man remained silent as he waited for the tea to be served.  When it came, he took cream and three sugars.

Shade had been waiting to see how the half-orc responded to Sir Constantine's greeting, but the arrival of others and Emmeline had forestalled her observations.  She hopped down from the chair, her cat on her shoulder, and walked into the office to find another single chair to perch upon.  She rubbed her right hand a little as she did, as if feeling the completed marking underneath her glove.  Her last encounter with the judge had changed her life, and she owed the lady a great debt.  When the judge arrived and greeted them, she stood and bowed back in polite deference.  "Your Honor," she says, waiting for the judge to sit down before retaking her seat.  When tea was offered, she accepted with sugar and cream, with more cream in a saucer for her cat.

Now she knew the name of the half-orc, Karamazov, but not yet the names of the newcomers other than the paladin.  And friends with a professor, so that meant they had been lucky enough to know a true scholar; these people had money and expensive training.  But had to be lacking in some skills, elsewise the Judge would not have sent for Shade and Karamazov.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:28, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

Garland seemed somewhat distracted even as the maids had lead him to the judge. He paid the servants little mind as he was a representative of Pharasma's clergy and wished to be seen as no different then anyone else. Upon entering the room he couldnt help but stop and look at her bookshelves, noting the various tomes.

As the discussion began Garland looked back and poured himself a cup of tea before sitting down and speaking softly, though clearly "I thank  you for your hospitality my lady. Petros was my best friend and I know he rests peacefully yet still watches over us. Perhaps when there is time we might get to know one another better. Any friend of Petros' is someone I wish to call a friend of my own. I am sure we could have many interesting discussions surrounding Ustalav law and religious law." he said before bringing the tea cup to his lips, sipping it slowly before praising the maids for their tea.

More quickly than he intended he drained the hot tea from the cup and smiled at the girl who refilled it.

“For us recently a man possessed had committed murders but the angry spirit had possessed him to do so.  Thus the man walks free amongst his neighbors and the spirit has passed into the void.  Many a mans crimes might be hung upon this beast as well.”

The tea service held a fat silver teapot but only four cups, so Emmeline was accompanied by the elder maid, whose name was Millicent, with another tray for spare cups and finger sandwiches. They poured briskly and then bowed out as Judge Daramid thanked them.

"I am sure we could have many interesting discussions surrounding Ustalav law and religious law." Garland said.

Judge Daramid nodded, her hands steepled over her desk. Her piercing gaze swept over the assembled adventurers.

"Indeed, it is to discuss a matter of the law that I've called the two of you here, and I can't help but think of it as providence that the three of you should arrive at just this moment." She nodded first towards Shade and Vadim, then towards Garland, Constantine and Darcon.

"As you are no doubt aware there was an incident at Lepidstadt University three nights ago. A break in. The culprit was apprehended at the scene.

And, as I'm also sure you're aware, the culprit was no mere vandal. It...he was none other than the fabled Beast of Lepidstadt."

She paused to let her words sink in.

"Many a mans crimes might be hung upon this beast as well.” Sir Constantine mused.

Judge Daramid pointed at him, finger bouncing in agreement.

"Exactly, you have hit the heart of the matter precisely. Is the creature unnatural? Undoubtedly. Is it guilty of the break in? Almost certainly. But these alone are not crimes sufficient to warrant an execution."

She pushed herself up and paced slowly to the window, hands clasped behind her back. It offered a fine view of the courthouse, and the pyre that was being erected there.

"No, this trial is a sham. The people here, they have simply pinned all of their fears on the creature. They want to punish it, not because it's guilty, but because they fear it. If the Beast is truly guilty it will face justice for its crimes. But the case is so sensational...no investigation has been launched to determine it's actual guilt.

I will not see the law in the city that I love so misused."

She turned back to our heroes fiercely.

"This is why I have called you here. I have called you because you know justice, you know what it is to stand on that bench and have judgement passed on you. I have called you here because you faced terror and dealt with it rationally, compassionately. I have called you to see with eyes unclouded by fear.

Will you aid me in this charge? To seek justice for the Beast of Lepidstadt?"

“Your honor, I am not known here and have no legal authority here.  Perhaps if you can affix your hand and seal to a writ of continuing mandamus to force all public entities to forebare from hindering and to actively assisting in our investigation, That should suffice for us to investigate fully.”

SCG sips a bit more tea

“Also speaking directly with the creature may aid us.”

“Finally an order to the disposition of the accused, in case he must be transferred to Harrowstone prison.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:13, Wed 06 Nov 2019.

Similarly to Constantine's, Karamazov's tea was gone in two mouthfuls.  At the judge's question, he set the teacup gently on the floor.  Heavy iron links rattled together in one of the pouches and the man produced a thick chain, which he slipped over his head.  "So it is official Court business, then," he observed flatly, centering the oblong seal of Lepidstadt against his chest.  Antiquated as it was, the digits inscribed beneath the coat of arms indicated that the bearer was one of a number of official agents of the courts.

"I hear that the gaol is full with poor folk falsely accused, of this Beast's crimes, they say.  And it is said by some that the Beast he has worked evil since before you or I were born, your Honour." Heavy brows knit together as he laboured on in his thick Varisian accent, "There is fire, there is murder, there is disappearing of the children. One proven crime hangs a man, but how many proofs of innocence to clear him of being the monster people believe him to be?  What of these other crimes they say this Beast has done?  It will grow old and wither in the dock before they all have been aswered."

Karamazov groped for the cup by his boot.  When he wrapped his palm protectively around the porcelain, the tattoo on the back of his hand showed a brand likely familiar to those of an ecclesiastic bent;  clearly-marked scarification in the symbol of Rovagug.  Enthusiasts might even have recognised the tentacled monstrosity disappearing up his sleeve as one of Rovagug's titanic spawn: Chemnosit, the Monarch Worm.

Garland nearly chokes on his tea as Constantine mentions sending a prisoner to Harrowstone and he coughs several times before looking at his friend with a look of complete doubt and confusion as if he couldnt believe what he heard. The prison may have been in another county and outside the juristiction of the judge but the very thought of sending anyone there struck a cord of anger in him. "Harrowstone? Have you gone mad? After what the three of us went through? The building itself is collapsing from lack of maintenance and remains little more then a ruin. There is no staff to see to the well being of prisoners and the safety of Ravengro's people. While Father Grimburrow and myself managed to put to rest many of the spirits that haunted the cells the psychic taint left behind by the prisoners in the fire will remain for years if not decades. Much like any wound you can care for it but it will take time to heal on its own. As one of the clerics that oversaw its cleansing I will never agree to opening its halls until the psychic resonance has disapated and the prisoners can be housed safely and securely with programs made to rehibilitate them.  As a culture and a society we must evolve but we can only do so by learning from the mistakes made in the past. Harrowstone was one such mistake! Let it serve a purpose as a leason that the pursuit of justice without the temperance of wisdom can lead to even greater atrocities."

He sat back as he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he was still on edge from the suggestion. "As I see it Judge Daramid is taking the same approach I suggest. Justice, tempered by wisdom. As a healer and a scholar it is my role to heal the bodies and souls of the wounded and to discover the truth of our world. I will leave the judgements to Pharasma but I have no qualms on discovering the facts of this case. I would only ask a slight reprieve as myself, Darcon, and Constantine have one last duty to Petros. It was his wish we delievered something to his colleagues in the university, I would see his final wish of us done before this investigation."

Legal terms being thrown around thick and fast by the knight, Karamazov being revealed as an officer of the court, and a priest not wanting to send someone to prison because he thought it was too dangerous?  What a thoroughly curious and strange crew the judge had collected to seek out the truth about the Beast!

"I will help, Judge, of course I will," Shade said, quickly on the heels of the priest's long speech.  The stories about the Beast were legion, but stories, as she had reason to know, could be twisted, spun, and canted to the angle of the storyteller.  There were plenty of beasts who roamed the streets of Lepidstadt, and she had been neighbors with some of them.  She had been...

Shade rubbed her right hand again, and petted down the length of Nook's sleek back, prompting a purr.

"What has this Beast said about himself?  What was he doing in the university?  And... was what he was looking for in the university related to this Petros person you three know?" Shade asks, the last comment with a side-eye at Sir Constantine, Darcon, and Garland.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:29, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

Constantine throws Garland a fierce grin...
“No nothing stronger than tea for my friend.  I meant legal authority to move the prisoner even away should a change of venue be necessary for justice to prevail.  Also I have not heard yet a crime beyond redemption nor deserving of capital punishments.”

His grin fades away
“A pyre first burning hast already been gathered outside.  And if I must haul a beast all the way to Absolom to ensure a fair hearing; I will do so!”

He smiles at the judge
“With the proper authority of course.”
This message was last edited by the player at 18:01, Thu 07 Nov 2019.

From outside the room, everyone hears the quick steps of boots on the floor heading towards the study, and a man's voice echoing down the hallway, "No need, Milly my dear, I know where the bloody study is."

Mild protests are heard as a great commotion is heard as the door opens, and a young half-elf appears in the doorway. Dressed in a somewhat garish, certainly by the standards of the judge's study, outfit of green trousers, and a purple cloak around the young man. The most noteable feature is the mandolin slung across his back.

"Greetings! I apologise for being late. It's crazy out there. Didya know they've started a fire! I nearly fell in running across the... I mean The Beast, caught and all! Now, it leads a man to wonder whether the "Beast Creeps into Town" becomes more popular or less under the circumstances. If only I was a better songwriter, I could make a fortune, I'm sure..."

The man notices the look on the judge's face at his ramblings. He stands up straight, pulling down his shirt more formally, as if scolded directly by her look. The rest of the party observer that it appears as if the young man dressed himself in a hasty manner earlier this fine day.

Regardless, the man's tone of voice changes, becoming very formal, "My apologies for the outburst and informality, Judge Daramid. The greetings of friendship from my patriarch and his line to you, as always. My services, such as they are, are yours to direct."

He turns and bows formally to the others in the room, "My name is Jonah Raische. My late father, Maester Jonah Raische, and the judge were good friends."

He finds a comfortable seat, pulls out an apple, polishing it a little before replying, "Please continue where you left off and don't mind me, I will catch up fairly quickly."

Judge Daramid listened as Constantine and Garland discussed extradition as a possible solution but shook her head when it was suggested.

"No, I fear that moving the Beast before the trial would be impossible. There are three justices presiding over the case: myself, Judge Kasp Aldaar, and Chief Justice Ambrose Khard. Chief Justice Khard is a good man, if somewhat rigid in his interpretation of the law. He will see that justice is done whatever the circumstances. Judge Aldaar is a good man as well but the sensation of this trial is too great a boon for his political ambitions. His term as city justice ends in six months and, with the trial fresh in everyone's minds, it is all but certain that he will win the election for the city council seat. He will surely block any attempt at extradition and see that the Beast is tried here in the city.

Furthermore, I'm not convinced that the creature is innocent. I am only determined that it should receive a fair trial, free from prejudice and sensationalist, superstitious nonsense."

Next she addressed herself to Vadim.

"You are correct, it would be a wholly impossible endeavor to try the beast for every rumor, every mishap, every crime attributed to it over the years. The formal charges for the trial involve the beast's four most recent crimes.

First is the Morast Murders last year. The Beast is accused of killing nine people in Morast, a small hamlet in the center of the Dippelmere swamp south of the city.

Second is the Children of Hergstag. Seven months ago there were a series of murders in Hergstag, on the edge of the swamp. Six children were killed over a period of several weeks.

Third is the Karb Isle Sanctuary. Four months ago the asylum on Karb Isle burned to the ground, resulting in the deaths of the administrative staff and all of the patients. The Beast is accused of setting the fire.

Fourth is the break-in at the university three days ago. Since the beast was apprehended in the act it is almost certain that it will be convicted of this crime, but this is not a capital offense.

The Beast's public defender, Barrister Gustave Kaple, will be able to provide you with all of the details of these alleged crimes. He...will need your help." She said.

She turned to Shade next.

"You will find the beast in..." She began, but was interrupted by Jonah's arrival.

He bustled in and introduced himself with Millicent hot on his heels, red faced and puffing under her white cap.

"Your honor, he just came up! I tried to tell him that..." She burst out but Judge Daramid gave her an understanding wave.

"You did well. He was invited, after all." She turned her attention to Jonah, her brow drawing down threateningly. "I knew your father well and he always spoke highly of your abilities. Your ability to sway a crowd and ferret out rumors could prove invaluable to this case. But mark my words, young man, I will brook no disrespect to my staff."

Millicent was much too professional to stick her tongue out at Jonah, but when she busied herself clearing away the teacups and sandwiches she pointedly kept the hours devours out of his reach and marched past him with her nose in the air and a pointed sniff.

"As I was saying. The Beast is being held in the jail, across the square from the courthouse. Barrister Kaple is there with him and can give you all of the details that you might require about the case.

Act quickly. The trial has already commenced, preliminary evidence has been delivered, and the hearing concerning the Morast Murders is to be held tomorrow."

Darcon had been listening quietly while sipping his tea, his face shrouded inside his hood and his thoughts a mystery. He glanced up at the sudden interruption and the arrival of the brazenly dressed young half-elf, and took note of the mandolin strung across his back.

The instrument and the Judge's words to him indicated the half-elf was a bard of some repute, likely someone with a strong pull on the local crowds. Darcon wondered if that meant the Judge intended to surreptitiously sway the public towards whatever outcome of this case she wanted, regardless of whether it was the truth or not.

He took another sip of his tea and finally spoke, "Well if the first trial is to be tomorrow that leaves us with very little time to investigate, I would have preferred to visit the places these murders occurred and see the scenes of the crime with mine own eyes. Still, I suppose we should make talking to this 'Beast' one of our first priorities."

Setting down his cup he glanced at Judge Daramid then gestured towards the short woman with the cat and said, "The lady has a point, what was such a murderous creature doing inside a library? Who apprehended it and how exactly did they manage to capture this dangerous individual without killing him or being killed in turn?"

Darcon was not sure if the 'Beast' had a connection to the Professor, the young woman must be mistaken. Still, as they did have a good reason to visit the university anyway as Garland had just informed the Judge, they could investigate the Beasts appearance and subsequent capture with the librarians and hopefully get more insight there.

"Not to sound greedy, but this is quite the sensitive dilemma to unravel, with possibly deadly repercussions. Surely there must be some remuneration you are offering for our troubles, no?" Darcon added, glancing at the Judge with a small smile.

Shade looked sideways at Darcon, mildly appalled at the question of payment. Were it any other person, nearly any other situation, Shade wouldn't have hesitated; she charged for her services because to not do that was to not eat.  But this was the Judge...  Nook stretched and dug his claws into her, and she reminded herself that not everyone had her history with justice in the city.  When the loud musician burst in, rambling and bright in his colors, she gave him a sideways glance and let him ramble himself back to silence before going back to the matter at hand.

"Short time indeed.  But it does strike me a little odd that a beast out of the forests and swamps who could smash up a town would then carefully abduct children over many weeks, then burn down a building instead breaking it and going after the people inside, and then... get caught breaking in to a place in the city and be caught without slaughter?  Put all together, sounds pretty funny, doesn't it?  Sounds like a lot of stories mushed together like mud dollies, like old Mad Maudie when she gets to the fifth cup of ale and starts running her myths together, don't you think?  Let's go talk to the Beast hisself, as I don't think we have time to rush out to the hamlet at back, even if there'd be a lot there," Shade says thoughtfully.

At the intrusion Karamazov had half-risen, one hand gripping the top rung of his chair's laddered back, eyes shifting back and forth between the minstrel and Her Honour during the exchange.  Less subtly than the dark-haired urchin, he glared outright at the hooded stranger at the mention of payment.  Porcelain chattered as he surrendered his teacup to the maid, rising the rest of the way to his feet on stiff knees as she bustled past.

"Lawyer Kaple will have the papers - the briefs, yes?  I think many of these questions are for him and not for Judge Daramid.  We perhaps should not take up too much more of her time.  It is, I think, not so far if we must go to Morast if we start soon."  Gnarled and sinewy like a winter vine, his hand groped for the chain at his throat.  "But there is one thing..."

"Your Honour, when last I went to the Courts I was told that my seal is no longer..." Karamazov clutched the plate tightly, "...Recognised.  The clerks say that I am not registered, that I must ask you for some new authority, and that there is paperwork and a fee.  Is this so?  Am I expired?"  He squinted around the room at the others.

"Do we all need a mark or papers from your office for this business?"

Garland looks at the judge listening carefully and nodding in agreement about questioning the beast first. He would have prefered to work from the most recent events and then backwards in time to evaluate and interview witnesses for the more recent crimes when the situation was still fresh but it seemed luck was not on their side.

"Is there any way to delay the trial for tommorrow, based on the collection of new evidence and interview of new witnesses? If possible I would like to get some horses and head to Morast to find the scene of the murders and question the people. However Im unsure if we could arrive, investigate, and return with accurate evidence with only a day."

“Please send the writ over across the way.  Your honor when are the first rumors and then credible reports of the beast?”


SCG mind wanders perhaps a Lycan creature or one prone to rages; but the one year timeframe seems important to establishing innocence...
He is ready to view the beast itself and see whom it is...
This message was last edited by the player at 13:06, Fri 08 Nov 2019.

"Yes, yes, Barrister Kaple will be able to provide you with all of the details of the case, and you will be able to question the Beast as well.

You must move swiftly. I can attempt to delay the proceedings, but I have no doubt that Judge Aldaar will press to move things along as expediently as possible. His political influence is considerable and I have no doubt that he can leverage the general excitement in the city into a lobby to keep the trial on track despite my best efforts.

The hearing concerning the Morast charges is tomorrow, with hearings for subsequent charges on the following days." Judge Daramid said.

She glanced at the ornate water clock against the far wall.

"With swift horses you could be in Morast by, perhaps, noon. I will delay the hearing by an additional day if I can."

She nodded to Darcon and Vadim.

"An apt question. In fact your services to the court must be remunerated in order for your investigation to be legal."

The judge rose and crossed to a book stand that held a thick tome, its pages worn and oft perused. It was the grand manual of Ustalavian laws and legal codes. Judge Daramid carefully marked her place and closed the book.

"I will swear any who wish it as temporary deputies to the county of Vieland for the duration of this case. Be warned, I will require that you swear the deputies oath, to uphold the laws of the county, to appear when summoned by the appropriate justices, to render all aid to the swift and ready defense of the law in Lepidstadt.

Any who do not wish to swear will still be called upon as witness investigators in court, although I will still take a dim view if you commit any crimes or immoral acts during this investigation.

A deputies salary is five gold pieces every fortnight, a witness's appearance fee differs based on their expertise and the circumstances of the case. However, due to the extreme time constraints and the nature of the trial I will promise one hundred platinum coins to each of you that assists the investigation as either a witness, investigator, or deputy of the law."

Jonah raises his eyebrows and whistles at the amount of 100 platinum coins.

“Maybe I’ve been in the wrong profession all this time… I eh… um… have a… well, I guess it’s an obvious question that maybe I’m just missing on. Can the Beast, um.. speak?”

Jonah looks around the room.

“Look, I’m all for looking the thing over, and figuring out what we can. But do you have any idea what we’re walking into here? I mean, some man-wolf thing, or just some really unnaturally ugly hairy dude with bad manners and a thirst for violence?”

He pauses looking around the room, pacing a bit,  grabbing one of the hors’doevres that Milly had moved out of his way. He tosses it deftly between his fingers.

“How long has The Beast been a story around here? I mean, I know that Jonah and me’ve been singing songs and telling tales about the creature, as long as I can remember. I mean are we talking the last 20 years, or does it go back generations.”

Jonah pops the food into his mouth, pulls the mandolin into his fingers, plucking and tuning it gently.

“And when you say immoral acts… You mean?”

Darcon nodded his satisfaction of the sum and approval of the Judge's hasty preparations for them. "It will be cutting it close but I believe we can make it; we can split up if needed to save time," he said to the others.

"I want to start off by visiting this 'beast' first and talking to Barrister Kaple, after that we can visit the Library and Morast to investigate the crime scene and talk to any witnesses," the mage added, standing up to indicate he was ready to get started.

Weathered crow's feet sank into deep furrows at the corners of narrowed eyes;  Karamazov scrutinised the judge, his eyes searching her face directly for the first time since he entered the room.

"One hundred generals is a great deal of money," he observed deliberately, as though suspicious of even his own words. "Enough for an old servant of the city to retire, perhaps." He lapsed back into silence.

"You know I will swear this oath again."  Whatever phrenic wheels they were that had been turning behind his brow had reached their conclusion.  Karamazov approached the book of laws, ordinarily heavy footfalls muted by thick pile as he crossed the rug.  He looked to the window and the faint sounds of the city in preparation without.  "Already I am not well-loved, so I lose nothing swimming against the tide." 

SCG shakes his head and makes a mental note to henceforth carry the appropriate writs upon his person to save time and effort in time sensitive matters.  Hopefully the judge will issue his writ if not the defense or prosecution are viable alternatives.

“Let us go and see this great hulking and horrible beast.”

Never split the party!!!

Shade didn't move when the Judge offered them the force of the law behind their actions.  She had an idea of what might need to be done, and some of it was best done without the law looming too closely.  Not that she would cause the Judge any trouble, but it was best to not beholden herself to an oath she couldn't be certain of upholding.

"Let's go talk t' the Beast, then.  If you want to ride out to Morast after we learn what we can, you'd have to tie me to a saddle; I ain't never been on a horse in m'life," Shade says with a shrug.

“Fear not young Shade the horses are gentle and trained for riding, it is mostly balance and not being too rigid nor too limp. The stirrups support you as if you are standing on the ground.  I too am no expert in riding.”

SCG continues to be curious about the nature of the beast

Garland nods in agreement with Darcon before he sets the cup down and stands, though he looks at the judge once more. "May I ask your assistance in securing some steeds while we question the prisoner? It will save us some time while we investigate."

Shade her mouth shut with some effort at Darcon's question.  This was Judge Daramid and he was asking an important official of the city if she could help him get horses like she was a merchant or broker?  His tone wasn't disrespectful, but to her the question was the height of audacity. Certainly between the six of them they had the money and local knowledge to get horses within the hour without having to ask an important city official to do their scutwork!  Just asking a reliable messenger would get the job done without them losing any of their questioning time.

"We c'n get horses easy enough, Your Honor," she says quickly, giving Darcon a sideways glance.  "No need to worry about it."

Attention as much on the tiny sandwiches as on the judge's preparations, the big man hunched by the book where he expected to be sworn in.  Thumb-polishing the steel fastenings on his chest while he waited, Shade's commentary seemed to divert his focus.

"I have a cart, but usually it is me who draws.  I have no time to be troubled with horses, nor they with me, " his face cragged wryly, then his shoulders gave a lop-sided shrug that caused the plates in his coat to clank together.   Quietly, so as not to intrude on Judge Daramid's concentration, he leaned toward the diminutive urchin.

"If you find a horse to pull, that will be faster.  Otherwise I will take you, but we are longer on the road.  To go past the Yard after the gaol, I think, will not be so much more time."

Jonah chimes in, "I know I just got here, but I'd rather see/talk to The Beast first. Practically, I think it would better influence how we would look at Morast. And personally, I'd be better able to tell tales of the Beast having seen him for myself."

The judge quickly and efficiently had our heroes approach the stand and place their left hands on the codex one by one, raising their right and repeating after her the oath of a deputy of Lepidstadt. After the deputies had been sworn in she produced silver plated tin badges from a case behind her desk, palm sized shields with the tower and bramble, and pinned them to every breast except Vadim's. She paused in front of him to perform a quick inspection of his seal to verify that it was still in order and then moved on with a curt nod and a brief, bracing hand on his shoulder.

She nodded her assent when Shade answered Garland's question.

"You have my support in my capacity as justice of the peace, or rather I should say that you have the support of the Lepidstadt judicial system insofar as you uphold your oaths to the city. I have set you on the path to this investigation, but as presiding justice I must remain impartial on all further matters.

Apart from your retainer I cannot offer more assistance than would be legally due any agent of the court. Barrister Kaple will be your liaison in further matters related to the case."

Time being pressing, Judge Daramid bid a polite farewell to everyone except Jonah, who she pulled aside as he was leaving.

"What I meant, young man, is that you are not to step beyond the boundaries of the law during your investigation. Your father set great store by you, and I have high expectations."

Then, with her brief message delivered, she dismissed him curtly.

---

Shade knew of several stables where our heroes could rent horses or charter a carriage to any of the small hamlets surrounding the city. With transportation easily handled our heroes moved directly to the courthouse down the street from the Judge's home.

It was a large, squat building dominated by an enormous clock tower with spindly, rusty hands. Three stories, build of dark stone, and clearly designed as a fortification, the courthouse presided over a wide square surrounded by offices and shops. In the center of the square a large pyre was being formed, and in the center of the pyre the massive wooden figure of a man was beginning to take shape. It was clear that the onlooking crowd looked forward with relish to the conclusion of the trial.

Presented badges granted swift access, and a grim faced guard directed the party to the prison in the basement where Barrister Kaple was conferring with his "client".

Our heroes were led down a rough stone staircase and into the small prison beneath the courthouse. The scene inside was pandemonium.

Six guards shifted nervously, standing as far as possible from the cell at the far side of the chamber. The rattling of chains and the sounds of shouting echoed over the stone walls. The first sight was Barrister Gustav Kaple, standing with his feet planted wide, shouting up at a much taller guard captain and jabbing him in the breastplate to emphasize his words.

"And fu-furthermore c-c-captain...I e-expect you to k-k-keep your men in line! I won't t-tolerate them t-t-tormenting the b-b-b-be...the c-c-crea...my c-client while I am as-s-signed to defend it!"

While he may cut an impressive figure in his black barrister's robes and his huge court wig, his stutter made him nearly unintelligible and he looked rather pathetic shouting up at a guard captain who was clearly only humoring him as a matter of protocol.

But the truly terror inspiring sight was behind the pair.

A towering abomination twice the height of a man sat in a massive iron chair, bound with no less than a dozen sets of manacles. It was a grotesque patchwork of flesh and bone, beast and man, bound by wire stitching pulled so tight it looked as if it might burst apart at the seams. Its mouth was twisted into a permanent, grizzly sneer and a shock of lank, dark hair clung to its clammy scalp. Despite its grotesque appearance the creature slumped in its chair despondently, its rictus expression staring vacantly at the floor.

SCG looks over the creature and the guards and knows there is no way this specimen was captured.

He strode up to near the prisoner.
“I beg your pardon, I am Sir Constantine and my friends and I are looking to solve some local crimes can you tell me or even write who created and or can control you? It seems to me that person or people should be in here, not a fine traveling companion such as yourself.”

Diplomacy
Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 14 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy


SCG is very alarmed that the trial just might destroy the evidence of the crime and obstruct the justice being sought

Assuming no response from the prisoner
SCG approaches the defense
“I am almost completely certain that this falls under property law and the owner has strict liability for all actions of the ...”

SCG hesitates
“I refuse to call him that, perhaps one day he will tell me his name he reminds me of a character from a story I read; Solomon Grundy....”

“I have to agree that no one should be subjecting any prisoner to torture or torment, including dehumanizing comments.”

SCG turns towards the guards and captain he glares at them as if they are about to be smited
“Anyone who does, regardless of rank or affiliation will answer to me!”
Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  Intimidate.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:55, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

Jonah teases being reluctant about giving his oath, but does it with a quick wink, taking his badge from the Judge.

When he arrives she hows his newly provided badge to those standing around the creature, prepared to deal with them if necessary. He pulls his mandolin from behind his back and sits down upon the ground and begins to play a gentle soothing song, to get the creatures attention, but not to antagonize it in any way.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:11, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

Garland took in the scene and approached the cell with no fear, nearly shoving both his holy symbol and the badge of office in the faces of any guards that got in his way before simply saying. "Official business. Move."

Having seen Constantine address others and be to stringent with the ideas of law for his taste Garland approaches and bows respectfully to the prisoner. Garland would treat him as his own man until he knew different. "Hello, my name is Garland Van Burke. Would you tell me your name or how you wish to be addressed?" he says simply, hoping to extend an olive branch to the prisoner.

Embreth's hand on the man's shoulder had produced a noticeable effect;  Karamazov's chin came up and, insofar as was possible, his posture straightened.  In that moment years fell away from his face and a glimmer of something -- pride, perhaps, or dignity? -- set behind his eyes.

By the time they were back on the street he had subsided into his original mien, keeping pace with the others in a rolling amble.  Aside from introducing himself as 'Vadim', he had very little to say on the walk to the courthouse.

Once in sight of the prisoner Vadim stopped short, ignorant to whatever had been passing between the guards, their captain, or the Counsel for the Defence.  He pushed forward with the priest, taking hold of a worn cell bar in one hand whilst gritting his teeth against the urge to gawp outright in front of everyone.  Perhaps it was his imagination, but an undercurrent of embalming fluid seemed to lurk beneath the smells of lye and desperation which always permeated the lockup.  In a moment of professional indignation, Vadim wondered if any of the parts had been pilfered from his own carefully-tended graveyard.  Pavel the mortician would doubtless have some choice words to say about such treatment of his carefully-prepared corpses.

Simultaneously monstrous and pathetic as it was, Vadim felt ill in the pit of his stomach.  The other side of those bars was a cold and fearful place, especially as an outsider, and there was something about that broken pose which tugged uncomfortably at other memories.  He looked away.

"We come from Judge Daramid to be investigators for the case," he touched his invisible hat-brim at Kaple and did his best to salute the Captain.  "You will give the lists of the witnesses and evidences and victims for the trial tomorrow to..."  Vadim's blunt finger wavered across the group with which he arrived.

"...This man."  Opportunistically he jabbed in the direction of the articulate and, if not entirely confirmed as noble, then at least very clean and scholarly-looking Darcon.  Suddenly aware that he had been drumming his fingers on the cell in counterpoint to Jonah's melody, Vadim forced his hand into his pocket and shot the half-elf a dark look.  This seemed hardly the time nor place for music, however cleverly played.

"Dolgar... Dolgren... What is his name?"  Vadim looked from the Captain to any of the guard whose attention he could attract, which didn't seem to be many.  "The one who makes the wanted posters, he is still with the watch?  You will fetch him also, to make a picture."


OOC: Edited for clarity of finger-pointing.  Also, relying on authority of office and recollection of procedure rather than social aptitude (which is thin on the ground in Vadim's yard...):
20:31, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Profession (Bailiff).
This message was last edited by the player at 10:07, Tue 12 Nov 2019.

Shade did not swear upon the book, but only nodded solemnly at the Judge before heading out to secure transport.  A swift carriage would be economical enough considering the stakes, even without the retainer they were being promised.  In the normal course of things she preferred payment first, even half, as her clients were often desperate, poor, or sometimes just stingy, but for this she would set aside that personal rule.

As they drew closer to the prison, she eyed the crowd with wariness.  It would take a minor miracle, which she and her fellow investigators were supposed to provide, to prevent the city from administering justice at the end of a torch themselves.  She hoped the guards feared riots more than they feared the Beast, because riots is what they would get if this wasn't handled right.

As they entered the prison, she shuddered a little, knowing that only the grace of the Judge had spared her the spartan cells and spare treatment of hardened guards.  Laboring amongst the city's poor and injured with her magic strangled hadn't been any more pleasant, but it had provided her the means of salvation.

Salvation that was not forthcoming for this creature.  A mixed-up mountain of a thing, caught in the act... of breaking in to a university.  Four crimes he was accused of now: wholesale slaughter, slow kidnappings, arson leading to death, and a fruitless burglary.  It was wrong, entirely wrong.  A creature that size, with strength to match?  Why start with horrible slaughter and then slowly lessen his crimes?  Violent brutes, in her experience, didn't go from bad to less-bad, it was bad to bad, or bad to worse.

Shade saw the others barge in and start throwing around orders, Sir Constantine with a fine show of using his height to make the others pause, Garland by simply assuming no one was going to stop him and issuing orders to that effect, and Vadim clearly bringing close knowledge of the city to bear.  She smiled with her head down in approval.

After all, someone had to bring order to this rabble, and it might as well be those whom Judge Daramid trusted.

Jonah started playing music, which gave her pause, but this Beast didn't seem to need soothing, subdued as he was.  Perhaps the bard hoped a drop of kindness in this insanity might sway him to talk to them more freely.

Shade stood behind the tall men who were otherwise occupied with the Beast and her shouting companions and did a little adjustment.  Quickly she loosened her belt and let it drop, took a plain gray shawl and tied it about her waist like an apron.  She altered her carriage to someone footsore and weary, and knelt enough to smudge a little grime and wipe most of it off again, like road dirt from a long voyage hastily wiped away.  Then she pressed her hands into the scarf upon her head, her face altering, hair lengthening, height drawing upward, scarf itself changing, until a fresh-faced farm wench with tear-stained cheeks and a maiden's hair pulled back in a traveler's bonnet stood there.

She quickly stepped forward and whispered to Jonah, "It's Shade. I'm being 'Sharla Sheaf'; my sister's child was one of the ones the Beast kidnapped, and if he asks I'm here to ask him why he did it.  Or else I'll ask myself if he doesn't.  Make sure I don't get thrown out."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:23, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

As the others entered with aplomb, Darcon descended the staircase quietly behind them, taking the situation in before speaking. He glanced long and hard at the beast, before
withdrawing an object from a belt pouch and holding it surreptitiously to his forehead and murmuring something unintelligible.

Pocketing the object again Darcon walked slowly towards the barrister (trying not to stare at the ridiculous looking wig) and introduced himself. Before he could say much else Vadim had already spoken and with a raised brow Darcon said, "Ah yes, ofcourse. You can give me the list of any witnesses you may have spoken to, and any statements you received."

The mage's voice a bit distant though, as his main focus remained on the creature as his companions attempted to communicate to it.

---

Standard Action: Cast Detect Thoughts. Duration Concentration/up to 4 minutes)

Note: Darcon will keep the Beast inside the area of the spell at all times while also trying to keep the Barrister and the Captian in its cone of effect (though the beast takes priority)

The guard captain dispatched one of his men to find the sketch artist, and Barrister Kaple's worried face broke into an expression equal parts relief and disbelief when Vadim let him know that the judge had sent them to assist him with the case

"O-of course, I c-can't tell you how glad I am of your assistance. Our time is short so we'll ha-have to prioritize our investigation. We should focus on the Morast af-fair first since the hearing is tomorrow. If you'll follow me to..." He began, but was interrupted as Garland and Constantine moved forwards to question the creature.

"Oy! Stay away from there! Don't talk with it!" The guard captain barked, his chest puffed up. He was quickly disabused of any notions he had of keeping our heroes from their investigation. Instantly silver badges were shoved in his face with angry adventurers behind them. Kaple was shouting over the background noise that he and his investigative team had every right to confer with his client. At Garland's cold "Official business. Move." he backed off to glower with the rest of his men.

The commotion didn't seem to faze the Beast at all. It remained slumped in its iron chair, not struggling against the heavy chains encircling it, starring despondently at the floor between its massive feet. It didn't answer their queries, only grunting and turning its horrifying face away when directly addressed.

And then something odd happened. At the first sonorous chords of Jonah's song its head rose slowly, sweeping back and forth over the room as if searching for the source of the sound. Its small eyes focused on the bard. The stretched snarl on its face grew wider, more horrible, taut flesh pulling out and down to show its broken teeth. And it began to gently sway to the tune, chains rattling as they dragged.

"...who created and or can control you?"

"Would you tell me your name or how you wish to be addressed?"

At some gentle prodding the Beast spoke, a low, rumbling sound like boulders rolling down a mountain.

"Dun got no name. Dun need one. Am...me. See?"

Behind the crowd at the cell doors Darcon cast his spell. As he finished the guard captain's attention snapped to him and his chest puffed up with pompous, bureaucratic self importance. He stomped forward.

"Oy! Stop that at once! I'll have none of that in my courthouse." He planted himself in front of Darcon, gauntleted fists on hips.

---

Shade, you're able to disguise and enter without any trouble.

Darcon, you concentrate for one round and detect the presence of thoughts in the area.

“Take ease Captain. We are new in town, what protocol is being broken?”

SCG puts himself between the two men.

Garland looked back at the captain with a raised eyebrow. However he focuses on the beast instead. "My companions and I have been asked to find the truth of the case you will be standing trial for. My only concern is the truth, I preside no judgement in this case so I ask that you be honest. Do you understand the charges you will be standing trial for and could you tell me your account of each of them? "

When the Beast had spoken, so too had Vadim made an utterance.  Hob-nails clattered backwards and a curse cut the air, hissed in hushed tones yet still colourful enough to singe the ear-hairs of those who overheard.

"Beg pardon," he ducked an apology at the nearby farming goodwife, sucking air and shaking his head in disbelief.  Vadim Karamazov had been wrong on many occasions over the years and was as used to being so as any man could be, but this he could not have imagined. And, to boot, mayhap the musician was more than just brightly-wrapped privilege along for the ride. Instinctively Vadim's left hand made a sign against evil, though directed at nothing in particular.

Thrown as he was Vadim paid no heed to the Captain's quibble with the scholarly fellow, whoever Her Honour's out-of-towner expert was.  Embreth lingered fresh in Karamazov's memory, and he tapped Kaple's black robe at the shoulder.

"Judge Daramid will have both our guts for garters if she finds this defendant's statements are not written down from the very beginning."

With that foretelling dispensed Vadim shuffled toward the cell and inched his way along the bars, looming behind Garland and any others as required in the process of getting the best possible look over the creature.  Curiosity or vocational fascination eventually overwhelmed his caution and better judgement.

"What are the regulations to go inside?"

Jonah continues to play, music that keeps The Beast swaying his head moving at peace.

Jonah whispers to Shade, "I can't believe it worked."

Jonah strums and hums along to the song, distracting the creature from Darcon's spell. He plays softer now, so that the creature can hear him over the plucking of strings. When he speaks he speaks in an even rhythmic tone, along with the melody of the song so it becomes more conversational than interrogative. "So, do you like music?... Anyone ever play music like this for you before?... Children like singing and playing music... I know that I love watching children dance and play... I often want to join them, and we could make music together... Have you ever felt that way?... Watching children playing in town?... Wanting to play with them..."

He looks down at his fingers, as he plays not looking at The Beast, but glancing up with his eyes, not moving his head, every so often to better understand the emotions of the creature.

"What protocol?! How about extrajudicial use of divination in my jail. How about violating me and my men's privacy. I'll not have your investigation here in my precinct flashing around your fancy magics. I'll throw you out on the street." The guard captain said, planting his fists on his hips and facing down Darcon and Constantine. He tried to look stern but couldn't hide the officious glee that he got from using his authority as a club. He nodded to his men, who quickly moved to flank Darcon, although nobody took any overtly hostile actions.

Behind them the knot of adventurers at the cell bars drew closer to hear the creature's rumbling words.

"Do you understand the charges you will be standing trial for and could you tell me your account of each of them?" Garland asked.

The Beast didn't react much to his words, seeming not to comprehend, but nodded at his last question.

"I kin count. One...two...three...four...five...six..." It rumbled.

Jonah broke in over the guttural, metronomal count.

"Do you like music?..."
"Have you ever felt that way?..."
"Wanting to play with them..."

The Beast continued to sway, calmed by the music wafting through the cell. At Vadim's suggestion barrister Kaple fumbled in his robes for a leather bound notebook and a quill and began furiously transcribing the exchange.

"Big'ns 're scared 'a me. They chase me. Hate me. Little'ns 're scared too. Most 'o the time." The Beast rumbled.

One of the guardsmen looked to the captain for instructions, found him still blustering at Darcon and Constantine, and rapidly shook his head in answer to Vadim's query.

"I...I wouldn't go in there if I were you. Any time anyone goes near the creature it goes berserk. I'll..." He glanced at Vadim's seal. "I'll let you in if you want, but if that creature breaks free there'll be hell to pay."

---

Darcon, if you continue concentrating you detect 13 thinking minds in the range of the spell. That accounts for your five party members, the six guards, barrister Kaple, and the beast. The guards all have 9 int, Kaple has 12 int, the Beast has 7 int.

Vadim, from where you are you can't take 20 but as it's positioned in front of the bars so as to be easily visible to the watching guards you can get a pretty good look at it. With a Profession: Mortician check you can tell that it's stitched together from a variety of creatures, both human and non-human, but it's tough to tell exactly what types.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:19, Wed 13 Nov 2019.

“You and your men are free to wait just outside, we are more than capable of questioning and receiving answers to questions.  It is of great importance to ascertain if he can aid in his own defense and if he understands right and wrong.  Likewise the barrister has confidential information that we need as well.”


SCG faces off against the captain knowing that it is probably true the prisoner gets upset when they approach
“We will ask questions of you and your if it becomes necessary.”

Please continue to play the music; we know that this place should not be one of torment.  Perhaps a music box could be here and kept playing by a guard when it runs down.”

Jonah nodded his head with the music.

"Yes, I've been chased myself too... Some don't like my music... Some don't like my ears... Makes me angry, sometimes... Do you get angry at the ones who chase you?... It's understandable, we all get angry sometimes..."

He looks around at the others, wondering what their thoughts were about what they were getting from The Beast.

Jonah nods at Vadim and looks down at his mandolin, indicating that he will keep playing if he goes inside the bars.

Darcon raised both hands, one of which clutched his staff while the other was clenched, and gave the captain a non threatening smile. "My apologies captain, but I, along with my companions, am here on authority of the Court." The mage opened his left hand and revealed the badge given to him by the Judge, flashing it in front of the captains face.

"Any spells cast are in service to the Court in order to provide a resolution to the horrific crimes that have taken place. That said, since it bothers you I shall avoid casting any magics in your presence without your consent," he added with another (fake) smile. "Now if you will excuse me I would like to get on with the court's work."

Looking past the captain Darcon stared at the beast and asked, "Creature, were you responsible for the murders in Morast and in Hergstag? Did you burn down the asylum on Karb Isle?"

---

Darcon will keep concentrating on the spell

Catching Jonah's nod,  Vadim responded with a ponderous shake of the head.  The stooped man's stomach growled, deep and long, and he frowned in irritation.  He never knew how to eat tiny food without making a mess;  he'd had no wish to be the one to get crumbs all over the judge's foreign rug, but now he regretted foregoing the delicate fare.  If its words so far were any indication then getting answers from the Beast would be like chipping away at a granite headstone, and at this rate they'd be here well past lunchtime.

"No, I am not here to make troubles worse," Karamazov muttered at the guardsman.  Grimacing, he massaged his temples before running a broad tattooed hand over his bald head.  That was, they'd miss lunch if the Captain didn't throw them out first.

"Chancellor, please," Vadim loomed up beside the senior guard officer, addressing Darcon with the only scholarly title he could think of, "The Captain has charge of the prison.  If you are using Arts he says are unlawful, I also must ask you to stop."  Thumbing open the catch on one of the pouches across his chest, he produced a pair of manacles.

"If the Captain orders you siezed or to leave the courthouse and I do as he says, there may be a struggle and there will no doubt be much, much paperwork.  Then you will not like to work with me."  He looked up at the dungeon ceiling in the direction of the courtyard and the pyre they had passed on the way.

"If I defend you and crack skulls of the Captain's guards, then Judge Daramid will put me in the big wooden man outside to burn, and there will also be much paperwork.  Then I think I will not like woorking with you."  In his restless hand, the manacle bracelets clinked together.

"Both ways we will not see Kaple's evidences today or Morast this afternoon.  Captain is a good man, we do as he says.  There are many times we will be back this week, maybe with papers.  Time for magics later, unless we are slow today and trial goes poorly tomorrow.  Then no magic will make the difference, and I think we will not get paid."

---

OOC: Convincing or not, Darcon might get some mileage out of his spell while Vadim makes his speech.

SCG nods at Vadim seeing the sense in forestalling and considering the captains objections in a respectful manner rather than leaping to obey potentially unlawful orders....

“The judge is just across the street, perhaps she could help you to better inform us of the task ahead of us.  If one of you can request her assistance.  It was her though that sent us here to obtain what information is available and she did not warn of restrictions .”
This message was last edited by the player at 17:15, Thu 14 Nov 2019.

As Darcon breaks the law in front of the guard, Garland asks questions the Beast doesn't seem to understand, Sir Constantine throws his weight around in various ways, and Vadim tries to be a backwards voice of reason, only Jonah's music and soft questions seem to bring any real reaction out of the Beast.

And the Beast is why they're here.  He seems childlike or simple, but from his massive appearance and the guards' assessment that he would get violent if one approaches, Shade didn't intend to get within reach.  He wasn't trying to get away now, but Shade truly doubted that the prison could hold the Beast if he wanted to get away.

She steps out from behind Jonah and moves to his side, dropping her questions into a lull.

"You said that adults hate you and most children do.  My sister lived at Hergstag, where those children went missing and were found dead."  'Sharla's' head goes down and her voice becomes thick and choked with sadness.  "Did those children come to see you and talk to you?  Or did you go to them?"

The guard captain continued to bluster and posture, and the rest of his guards hoovered outside the circle clustered at the entrance to the cell. The Beast seemed pacified at the moment by Jonah's music, but was still having difficulty understanding what was being asked of it.

"Do you get angry...? ...we all get angry sometimes." Jonah prompted.

The Beast didn't answer, but shook its head sharply. Perhaps in denial, perhaps in dis conformation.

"Did those children come to see you and talk to you?  Or did you go to them?" Shade asked.

The Beast grunted and gnashed its terrible teeth.

"Just little'ns. Not all. Only Eller. Just Eller."

It began to rock back and forth, its grimace widening, and a great, deep sound like hiccoughing laughter jerked its shoulders up and down. "Har, har, har, har," Each jarring exhalation was like a convulsion.

Darcon stepped up, concentrating on his magic as he asked his questions. The captain and his guard's thoughts were as apparent as the looks on their faces, they considered the Beast guilty and were only concerned that it would escape before punishment could be meted out. Kaple's mind was similarly split, he too thought that the beast was guilty but had an iron determination to carry out his duty and defend it to the best of his abilities. The creature's thoughts were hazy, difficult to codify, more instinctual than definite. It was ruled by fear and discomfort, but layered over an almost overwhelming sea of sorrow and loneliness.

"Creature, were you responsible for the murders in Morast and in Hergstag? Did you burn down the asylum on Karb Isle?" He asked.

The Beast's gaze slowly shifted to the mage.

"I didn't do it. I didn't do it! I DIDN'T DO IT! I DIDN'T DO IT!" The Beast's words began a low, wrenching denial and escalated in pitch until it was bellowing, roaring, specks of saliva spraying from stretched lips. It wrenched its body back and forth, struggling against the thick chains that held it. The iron of the chair creaked and groaned but held firm as the creature continued to rave, roaring and bellowing. Darcon could only watch in horror as the Beast's mind blackened, every thought subsumed under a roiling wave of all-consuming rage.

"That is it. The six of you, get out of here, NOW! Get everyone in here!" The guard captain shouted, first at our heroes, and then to his men. Already the sounds of booted feet came thundering down the stairs as the rest of the courthouse guards spilled into the room. The captain started barking orders and they fanned out, ready to restrain the creature should it slip its bonds.

"Oh dear, perhaps Captain Walton is right. Please, follow me." Barrister Kaple said, clearly frightened. He quickly lead the group up the stairs, the din fading behind them, and ushered them into a cramped office on the second floor of the courthouse.

SCG watches the prisoner as everyone heads up stairs.

“Well defender Kaple it seems clear that he is pleading not guilty to the charges and secondly we need to find his friend Eller.”

“What evidence and witnesses are there?”

In the confusion of the Beast's rage and the subsequent shuffling of everyone before the group is led outside, Shade resumes her own appearance.  Once away from the worst of the din, she shakes her head.

"That's a couple bits we didn't have 'afore.  Honeycakes instead of vinegar, being as I doubt the Beast has had much honey.  Leastwise we've got a name.  The name Eller show up in anything else you already know?" Shade says, directing the last question towards Kaple with a raised eyebrow.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:33, Fri 15 Nov 2019.

Garland leaves at the behest of the others though he assures the captain he will be back for further questioning at a later time. Once they get outside he takes a moment to lean back against the wall and listens to the others while thinking. Whispering the words "Eller...Eller...have I heard that name before? or something like it?" as he cocentrates on his vast knowledge of Ustalav


17:28, Today: Garland Van Burke rolled 28 using 1d20+8.  knowledge local check.

It was no mean feat for a man with a hunch and wearing a neck-guard to stretch his upper vertebrae, but Vadim managed to extract a series of impressive cracks from both sides of his neck as he followed the others up the stairs. Usually his involvement in matters of law extended not much further than 'Bailiff, put up the defendant' or, occasionally, physically dragging someone before the courts.  Still, he tried to walk himself through the process as he remembered it being described.

"First, we hear about Morast," he said, mostly to himself, where he waited by an overloaded bookshelf.  "We find the reasons why they say it was this Beast.  Then we find proof that these reasons are true or not true."  At Shade's reappearance Vadim raised an eyebrow, but asked no questions.

"We do not go chasing the first name we hear like hounds after the hare."

“Nay but I believe we should hear the bits and pieces of the prosecutions case.  At least the first one, so we still have time to visit the scene of the crime and retrieve evidence.”

He offers a seat to shade and finds a wall to lean against....

“A place this size probably has more than a few usual suspects and gangs that we may also meet along the way.”

"Eller...Eller, there certainly isn't an Eller on the witness list for any of the four incidents. I'll go back through the submitted discoveries and try to find anything more." Kaple said.

His office seemed smaller than it was due to the clutter of folios and scroll cases spilling off of the shelves that lined the walls. The docket of any public defender was always busy, but all secondary concerns had been dropped in favor of the trial of the century.

"While I'm doing research on this Eller, you can begin your investigation of Morast."

He retrieved the leather folder and laid it open on his desk, carefully moving an ink blotter and a stack of parchments to make room.

"The key testimony at the discovery hearing was the head of the village council, Elder Lazne. His statement is here." Kaple pushed the parchment forward.

Upon reading the statement it was clear why Judge Daramid had called on our heroes for a more thorough investigation. The key points were there, but the testimony had very little detail.

According to the account the Beast of Lepidstadt had haunted the swamps around Morast for several weeks, abducting and murdering lone citizens. Eventually the town banded together and laid a trap for the Beast, which fled into the swamp. The townsfolk gave chase and hounded the creature until it was attacked by a blood caiman. Thinking the Beast dead, they gave up pursuit and returned to the village. Only when it was captured at the university did they learn that it had survived, and Elder Lazne had come to give his testimony.

Further details about the attacks, the nature of the trap and the pursuit, or the Beast's supposed death in the swamp were missing from the account. The prosecution had simply asked if Lazne was certain the assailant was the Beast, which he confirmed.

The file also had details on the nine murders in the weeks leading up to the chase. Each had disappeared when alone and in or near the swamp. All nine had vanished, leaving behind no body, but signs of bloody struggle had been found at several of the disappearance sites.

---

You can use Knowledge: Nobility, Profession: Bailiff, or similar skills to peruse and decipher legal documents, understand court and legal proceedings, present evidence, etc.

You can approximate these sorts of things using Knowledge: Local or in some cases Diplomacy, but with a higher DC.

Garland, you don't know of anyone named Eller connected to the case and are confident enough in your knowledge of local affairs that you would, if there were one to know. The only Eller that you know in Lepdistadt is Eller Underhill, a glassblower who owns a shop int he city.

Eller Underhill? he says a moment later as he thinks more. "That is the only name I can think of. Perhaps upon our return from Morast we should question her. I would also like to question the beast again with less distractions and better tactics. I suggest one questioner to approach him and ask open ended, non-accusatory, questions about the case. It is our role to seek the truth of this case, not to pass judgement."

“Peace friend Garland; I have dealt with monstrous humanoids enough to suspect the name may be Ellen or Ella or Ellie or a similar sounding name; the soft sound being replaced with the hard r.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:58, Fri 15 Nov 2019.

Jonah is practically out of breath with exhilaration, "Well, it's obviously true that the   The Beast has the mind of a child... in his belly..." he says with a grin at the end.

"Sorry, wrong crowd. It's just the first thing that came in my head. But that's a joke for the late night crowd at The Rusty Unicorn when this is all over."

He continues, "Seriously, the way The Beast reacted, it's one of two things. He's either being accused of something he knows he didn't do. Or, he's being accused of something he doesn't want to accept that he did. I've seen enough reactions from drunks to know that."

"And you heard him," Jonah pauses and drops his voice, making it sound like a decent performative version of how The Beast sounds, "Just little'ns. Not all. Only Eller."

"This 'Eller' is a child. Probably one who lives in Morast. Let's just hope he or she isn't on the missing list."

Shade glances sideways at Sir Constantine when he pulls out a chair for her.  She scootched it a few inches over to get a better angle, but then gave him a nod as she sat down, Nook hopping on her lap.

"Eller might not even be in Morast; I was asking the Beast about Hergstag when I put the question t' him," she points out.  She looks over the legal briefs, but that was never her expertise.  She'd actually made her living avoiding such things.  "I know that's not what we were after first, but when I heard how he was talkin' and then swayin' to Jonah's music I thought I'd ask about the children, seeing as he talks like a child hisself."

When she gets the information about the murdered townsfolk and scanty information, she shakes her head.  "If it t'were one or two, I'd wonder if some of them wanted t' run away and faked their deaths, what with no bodies and all.  Kill a rat or some beast and spray the blood around and it's, 'Oh woe, she's dead and we'll never find her bones' while instead the smart lady is off elsewhere.  But nine's a fair big conspiracy."

Darcon was still reeling from the mental chaos he had felt within the beast, and he stumbled to sit in a chair close to the others while refocusing his thoughts.

"I sensed fear and sorrow, and loneliness most of all," he said finally. "I do not believe it was the mind of a crazed killer, though the rage and darkness I felt when the beast went berserk, well that would more resemble the mind of a bloodthirsty murderer," the mage added with a wry smile.

Darcon glanced at Kaple and spoke with the barrister, "I agree, Morast must be our priority, a village mob giving it chase should mean plenty of eyewitnesses in the village for us to question. Is this Elder Lazne here to speak at the trial?"

Leaning forward Darcon added, "Another thing Barrister, do you know why the beast was at the library, of all places, and how it was captured there? We intend to investigate the library later, but this has been bothering me, it might help interpret the actions of the creature if we know what it was doing there."

"Hmph.  I thought I recognised you,"  Vadim grunted when Jonah mentioned the Unicorn, polishing a pair of battered spectacles with the cloth in which they'd been wrapped, then readjusting his coat over the bandolier of pockets.  After some fiddling about bending the arms back towards some semblance of true he put them on and took his turn, peering nearsightedly down at the folio of papers after another sidelong glance at Shade.

"So,"  sheets of parchment rustled as he flipped over each one, laboriously reading each word,  "Only blood and mess.  No bodies there or ever found.  No one sees these missing ones be harmed or taken."  Karmazov leaned close over the table, squinting and occupying a good deal of Kaple's personal space.

"This man Lazne says, 'I have come to tell you that I am sure I see, with all my friends, this Beast running away when we try to catch it.'  The Beast says, 'I did not hurt anyone.'"  Vadim turned over the last page, checking that there was nothing underneath, and began again from the top.  "Beast has no history at court and is never proved to have harmed any person before."

"You are not needing help with this, I think.  Why will any judge not throw out this case?  As easily could you or I have done these things."  This last was directed at the tall half-orc, Sir Constantine.  Vadim snorted, following the lines of script with a cracked nail, "Or Lazne and his friends, even."

The ageing labourer worked through Kaple's papers again, even more slowly.  Although Vadim had little enough experience as an active part of the prosecution or defence, he had stood by at attention in enough cases even testified as a witness on occasion.  It seemed to him that even on a good day one of the judges would likely make a junior barrister cry before tossing them out as wasting the court's time.

---

Looking for the kinds of key points which would make the prosecution's case carry water.

12:18, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  Profession (Bailiff).
12:19, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  Knowledge (Local).

“Fear and loneliness are perhaps the worst prison.  The fits of rage are like a barbarian so possibly he can gain control.   The other hints are people taken at the waters edge and then he is attacked by a blood camin.  Surely it stands to reason these people may have just as easily been eaten.”


“I agree the last crime likely will give us the most information as it is certain he was there.”


SCG suspects that the prisoner, was more than capable of avoiding the blood camin and had understood that the people were blaming him for the killings, and thus he lead the pursuing men to the actual culprit.  Rather than aiding him and recognizing their folly they had left him to die......this is the way the civilized races treat the monsterous and yet never see the truth....it is no wonder redeemer paladins are so rare...
This message was last edited by the player at 23:49, Sat 16 Nov 2019.

"Hmmm, I have the incident report from the break-in at the university here as well." Kaple said, handing the folio over to Darcon.

The incident at the university, much more recent and handled by the very professional city watch and university guards, was much better documented than the sparse information on the Morast affair.

Barrister Kaple shook his head sadly at Vadim's question.

"That, my friend, is the whole crux of the issue. Anyone else accused of these crimes wouldn't be held past the preliminary hearings. But the Beast has haunted the nightmares of the Lepidstadt people for nearly thirty years. Any time a horrible crime is committed people suspect the Beast, every disappearance, every unexplained phenomenon. And then, after all of that, to have the creature c-caught at last...the cry to convict is deafening.

The key to this case isn't the evidence or the circumstances. It's the fear. They would convict it just for living, if Judge Daramid had not forced this trial. No, if we are to do our duty we must counteract fear with f-facts, with evidence, with reason.

Go to Morast. Gather what evidence you can, and I pray that we can do our duty at tomorrow's hearing."

Darcon accepted the folio with a curt nod of appreciation, and immediately began to peruse it. The mage stroked his chin thoughtfully as he read the report, his cowl shrouding his features and any emotion that might have passed over them.

Finally, when Kaple finished talking Darcon looked up at his companions and said, "Yes, I believe we should head to Morast to continue the investigation, it will be a hard ride but if we leave immediately we should have time enough to make the effort worthwhile."

Inserting the report back into the folio he glanced at Karple from underneath his hood with a thin smile and remarked, "In the meantime my good barrister, perhaps you can use the time to put aside your own preconceptions about this creature and try to give it a fair trial. The beast's fate is sealed already if even its defendant in the trial thinks it to be guilty and is only going through the motions."

---

Knowledge Checks to determine anything that Darcon might recall about the missing statue.
History/Religion/Arcana: 10/21/29

Jonah eventually gets a look at the documents, "Wait a minute. The Beast, the creature we just met, burst into a library using brute strength, then casually walked through the hallways destroying nothing until it came to the antiques department, and THEN when on a rampage?"

"He might have done it, but certainly someone else told him what to destroy. Heh. He was left holding the bag, for sure! Regardless of any other crimes he might have committed."

He pauses a moment, "And not for nothing. But we should be worried about what was taken and what was destroyed. I have plenty of tales, some of them real, that began with a statue being stolen and raising the spirit of Old Ezrika Gammet, a witch who swore vengeance on the town that burned her alive." he finishes with a dramatic tone in his voice.

"It works much better in front of a fireplace or campfire. Now that Jonah has passed on, I can even do the puppet show for the kids!"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:07, Mon 18 Nov 2019.

"How does this 'blood kaye-man' look?"  Showing no interest in the university brief, Vadim carefully re-folded his glasses and wrapped them back in the cloth.

"Perhaps we ask Beast if it has seen one of these creatures.  If it says yes, then maybe it has been to the swamp near Morast.  Maybe this part of the elder's story is true.  Maybe Beast took those people."  He tucked the spectacles away under his coat.

"If not, maybe Beast can say it does not know this creature in court, and this shows it was not the one seen by villagers."  Mountainous shoulders shrugged.

"Either way, if Beast has broken doors and items in university, then it will go to jail and have a debt to the city.  If Beast has taken and killed nine people, it will lose head.  Also, nine people are lost and never found.  That is more important.  So, yes, we go." 

Nodding respectfully to Kaple, Vadim did his best to ease out of the room without upsetting any of the piles of books, papers, or other clutter.  Best to wait outside where he had room to breathe whilst the others finished up with the barrister.

“Agreed we have no more time to wait the journey there and back again but also time to seek clues and answers.”

He shakes the barristers hand
“Can the scene at the library remain preserved in the meantime?”

"This whole things stinks like yesterday's fish," Shade opines.  "Morast has got people going missing left right and center yet still sending people out to fish and having people dragged from their homes, and the Beast breaks into the museum and doesn't touch nothing but one area.  T'first could be just people too poor to move and too hungry to stop fishing and too suspicious o'strangers to go ask for help, but the second for certain sounds like someone's holding the Beast's leash.  So does the fire.  The deaths in Morast and Hergstag... maybe someone wanted those people and kids for something.  Black magic, sacrifice, stories around here are stiff with old legends about that, well afore the Beast was ever around."

When Jonah mentions Old Ezrika Gammet, Shade smiles a little, and it's not a pleasant expression.  "Stories like Old Ezrika are good ways to scare people into doing what you want.  Good scary story, little sleight of hand, touch of magic, the right kind of lies, and you've got some who'd give you all their worldly goods just t' be free of a curse that's been made up.  Be easier if you got a genuine Beast to back up yer claims, eh?"

Shade hops out of her chair when Sir Constantine talks about the journey.  "Let's get going to t' Morast if they can do what the Sir said."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:33, Wed 20 Nov 2019.

Kaple's demeanor iced somewhat as he accepted the case file back from Darcon and tucked it back into place.

"I'm sure we'll all do our best to let reason, and not passion, rule our investigation." He said. He also assured Constantine that the library at the university was cordoned off as a crime scene, and would likely remain so until the conclusion of the trial.

---

Our heroes left the courthouse a little after noon and made their way to the edge of the city to a stable that Shade knew. It was a rather busy place, with the many visitors filling the city also filling the ques for its services. One of their more popular options was a carriage tour of historic Lepidstadt with stops at the city's various landmarks.

A coin pressed into the palm of an hostler that Shade knew moved them ahead of a disgruntled family who wanted to take a trip to see the Spiral Cromlech, and before long the group was bouncing along the road north of the city.

They traveled north and crossed the river at the small village of Helge's Ferry, doubled back along the Moutray River until they reached the sparse dirt track to Morast, and trundled down that increasingly sparse road until the village itself came into view. The ground grew softer and marshier, with small bridges and piers of rotten wooden pilings often bridging the frequent streams and bogs.

The journey took a little over an hour all told.

Morast was a small hamlet spread over three of the more solid islands in the marsh. Many of the homes were built on pilings over the water and most of the buildings were connected by a series of wooden sidewalks. It wasn't hard to see why so many disappearances had occurred 'at swamp's edge', that description could fit almost the whole landmass of the town. The insular villagers noted the arrival of the carriage with interest and the driver, a tight lipped, heavy shouldered man with the heavy brow of some orc blood, seemed content to sit atop his perch and read the Lepidstadt Gazette that had been tucked under his seat during the drive.

---

Darcon, while you feel you have an excellent grasp of artifacts like the missing statuette, the brief description in the missing inventory document isn't enough to give you much information about it. If you were able to recover and examine it you would be able to make another check.

Darcon knows quite a bit about blood caimans and can answer Vadim's questions. Caimans are closely related to alligators and crocodiles but are typically smaller. The blood caimans of Dipplemere swamp, on the other hand, can sometimes grow to twice the height of a man and are very territorial. They are shy of human habitation however, so attacks or even sightings are rare unless their territory is encroached upon. The swampers of Morast in particular are expert in hunting these beasts, the exotic hides and scales of which are a profitable export for the little town. They get their name from a crest of red scales that covers the head and runs down their backs and along their tails.

Shade also has some information about Morast itself. The village is small, comprising some sixty or seventy people, most of whom make their living as fishermen in the swamp. They are famous for their legendary constitutions, rarely taking sick and living long and healthy lives. Local rumor has it that they have mingled with strange swamp creatures or made dark bargains, leading to their health and strange appearances. Shade knows enough of local affairs to cut through the rumors--the town's well is situated over a natural mineral spring, and that coupled with a healthy diet of fish and an active lifestyle is responsible for the villager's reputation for good health.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:36, Tue 19 Nov 2019.

“When we arrived i purchased a batch of potions and not really knowing what is needed i thought right now might be a good time to share those based upon need.”

Light (2); enlarge person; feather step, grease, hide from undead; refine improvised weapon; sanctify corpse (2); sanctuary (2); touch of the sea

“Vadim do you have the ability to see in total darkness or can magically create light?”  If not i have a couple of oils of light for emergencies.”

“Darcon, Shade, Jonah I obtained some sanctuary potions that might keep you safe while we are in battle.  I also got sanctify corpse so no one killed by undead comes back as some nasty creature.”

SCG holds out potions to see who may need what....
Any takers?

Caught off-guard by Sir Constantine's question, Vadim paled a little and cleared his throat, thrusting his typically fidgety left hand inside his coat pocket.  Awkwardly, his other hand sought something concealed within an inner pocket.

"I have light, yes."  An ancient, battered Wayfinder was produced for inspection.  Along with the usual ring for hanging on a cord or hook, this device was stitched to a broad leather band, buckled at one end and notched at the other.  At some point in its life the buckle had been replaced with a bent coffin-nail, but retained its functionality.  Vadim rapped the glass once, twice, and the needle inside lazily began to drift toward North.

"I have Gravemaster's Compass.  It can light the way."  He put the device away and picked up one of the vials very delicately, the draught indicated as able to increase a man's size.

"It is a long time since I have used such things.  You are expecting much trouble in Morast?  From beasts or townsfolk?"  Vadim put the vial back, nodding, then seemed to change his mind.  "I will take this, maybe.  It is good to be prepared."

"Still, I do not think I will be much use to you on this trip.  We only go to ask questions;  there are no bodies buried and all these things happened months ago.  So, nothing to see."  The seat creaked as he shifted his bulk into a more comfortable position, producing a well-worn deck of waxed paper cards.  "Anyone here plays Dead Queen?"

Happy to play cards with any takers but otherwise content to watch the countryside pass and listen to conversation, Vadim whiled away the first portion of trip.  As the surrounding terrain became more swamp-like, however, Vadim sat up and grew tense.

"I did not like this talk of great lizards," he explained, watching the water until they disembarked and, furtively, thereafter.  When he realised that the village was built over the swamp itself, Vadim's large hand tapped Sir Constantine's elbow.

"Maybe I take the swimming magic also."

---

OOC: Vadim will take the potions of Enlarge Person and Touch of the Sea, deferring to anyone else who claims them.

"I'll take one of the light ones.  And sanctuary.  If something decides to bite, I'd rather it not be me," Shade says, taking one of each with a nod of gratitude.  "Nice of you t'get these.  Thanks."

While in the carriage, she takes up Vadim on his offer to play Dead Queen.  "Been a while since I played for no coin," she says with a half-smile.

As they look over the town of Morast, the nine deaths make a great deal more sense.  If the Beast had been using the water or swamp as cover, there was no place to hide, not if they wanted to keep plying their trade and eating.  It wasn't like the folks were going to up and leave so easily, not when they wrested their living from the swamp in conditions some soft-handed folk would find repugnant.

She gazed at the villagers, and glanced back at the others.  There was no way to make a subtle entrance, and their time was short.  All that remained was to give a good impression.  Shade looked over the people, trying to find the headman or headwoman to address as to not upset the pecking order in the village.

"Good fishing to you all!  These folk and I are from the city, gathering evidence about the Beast so the trial goes how it's supposed to," she says, spreading her hands in a gesture of openness and waiting for the others to get official.

The swampers of Morast were an odd bunch, it was easy to see why the cityfolk's suspicions could paint them in a less than flattering light. They were a gangly lot, with a lot of knobbly elbows and long fingers, and their faces favored wide set eyes and wide mouths that gave them the slightest amphibian look. Shade knew this to be nothing more sinister than a strong family resemblance, more than half of the villagers were siblings, cousins, in-laws, or other relatives of either the Cohn or Fisher families, but they did present a rather queer crowd.

A group of six strange adventurers arriving by carriage was odd enough to draw quizzical looks from people working outdoors or resting on porches, but not enough to cause general stir. Shade's pronouncement was, however. Even in the small communities surrounding Lepidstadt the trial of the Beast was the most captivating story in years.

Curiosity was strong enough to overcome that famous Ustalavian insularity and distrust of strangers, and a small crowd of towns folk circled around to get a view of the big-city investigators. One of the goodwives sent a small boy dressed in suspenders, waders, and nothing else running off to find the village elder.

'Elder' proved to be something of a mis-characterization as Corder Lazne strode through the crowd. He had more black than grey in his hair, a stoutly built man on the close side of middle-aged, with broad shoulders and the weathered skin of an outdoorsman. He always seemed to have a wad of swamp-weed tucked between lip and gum which he rolled slowly while thinking and often punctuated his sentences by spitting out a stream of foul smelling weed-juice onto the ground.

"What're yew furriners doin' here?" He said, his tone suspicious and unfriendly, and spat.

"Ahm not scheduled ta' speak my piece until the hearin' tomorrer."

SCG takes a cue from the man himself
“True that!  what we wanted was to see everywhere something happened or at least as near as possible A guide I can pay him to show us the places.”

SCG reaches for his pouch

Whether the croaking and other sounds of life amongst the weeds and reeds and dangling shrouds of moss came from frogs or birds or insects, Vadim could not guess.  By the look of the villagers they were more inclined to cause outsiders to disappear than any of their own folk, but those lost travellers would be so gone as to never be linked to this community.

"It is true." Vadim angled the iron city seal so that Lazne could see. "Judge sent us to check facts, make sure you are not gone too long tomorrow with complications."

"We know you are busy," Vadim gestured at some nearby boats, laden with some kind of wicker pots that might have been designed for catching crabs or fish or whatever it was that was worth eating in these murky waters.  "So we do our work, we pay for time, we go, and you go back to your work."

His piece said he gives Lazne a nod, one working man to another, and steps back to scan the treeline and watch the ripples.

---

20:31, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 14 using 1d20-2.  Aid Another - Diplomacy.
Not sure if Constantine's move is a Diplomacy check exactly, but I'm assuming someone more adept than Vadim is going to try to get things off on the right foot.  If so... have a +2!

"Not much left ter see any more. We chased the cursed Beast last year and thought it dead all this time, til we heard about it turning up in the city." Lazne said in unfriendly tones. He clearly hadn't warmed to our heroes, despite their involvement with the case.

"Like I told 'em at the deposishun, that damn thing must 've been lurking in the swamp and snatchin' villagers when he saw one of us off alone or vulnerable. When he snatched old Aran Fisher it was the last straw, and all the men in the village set a trap. We chased it into the swamp and saw it attacked by a caiman, big one too. We all thought it was dead."

“It sure would help us if you can at least walk us through where the trap was set and describe where the chase went through and ended up?  Not to mention the Fisher home and the boat that was found.”

SCG smiles at the man and shrugs easily
“A fair price for your time.”
Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 24 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy
This message was last edited by the player at 19:36, Thu 21 Nov 2019.

Shade was privately impressed that the knight had offered coin so readily; at least he seemed to understand the realities of those living on the smaller margins, where even a few hours' work lost could mean empty bellies or worse.  And Vadim too, had her admiration for the same.  But all of them were outsiders, city folk, and they didn't belong in this world of swamp and water and mud.

"Elder Lazne, we're also making sure we know how the Beast survived.  If he's tough enough to have survived the blood caimen, we want to make sure whatever fate he has in store will be enough for him," Shade says.

Never one for being in close proximity to others for any length of time, Darcon had suffered through the carriage ride in hooded silence, and was relieved when they finally arrived at the ramshackle village.

The relief quickly dispersed however, when he saw the sorry, gangly and 'fishy' lot that made up the villagers. Still, he pursed his mouth and remained behind the others, letting them do the talking for now while he observed. The mage did not think they would get any easy answers from here though, or any real answers at all. Sir Constantine seemed to have the right of it though, those were the places they needed to visit.

"So you did see the beast when you chased it correct, even if you never saw its corpse? And did you see it any time before the time you chased it into the swamp, say around the time of the first murders?" Darcon finally spoke, staring at Lazne from underneath his hood.

"Were any remains of the missing villagers ever found?" the mage added, as that had been something that had been bothering him since he read the report on the Morast murders.

Constantine's confidence and easy manner seemed to put Lazne at ease and his hunched, defensive posture relaxed somewhat.

“It sure would help us if you can at least walk us through where the trap was set and describe where the chase went through and ended up?  Not to mention the Fisher home and the boat that was found.” He asked.

"Elder Lazne, we're also making sure we know how the Beast survived.  If he's tough enough to have survived the blood caimen, we want to make sure whatever fate he has in store will be enough for him," Shade added.

She seemed to have struck the correct cord and Elder Lazne nodded in avid agreement.

"Aye. It wuddn't do to have the beast survive again, now matter how miraculously.

Poor Bertille's home and Duncan's boat have been repaired and set to rights for nearly a year now, not much to see there any longer. Ah kin tell you about the night we chased the Beast away for good though.

When Dowd disappeared we didn't think too much of it, young men do run off sometimes, but as the weeks passed it wuz more and more obvious that something was snatching villagers. And everyone knows that the only creature capable of that sort of thing is the Beast. Everyone was scared, and when old Aran went off into the swamps on his own to look for his grandkids it was the last straw. We holed up in the village, everyone hiding, and everyone looking out every which-a-way for the Beast.

That very night it came a-shamblin' and a-creepin' into the village. We leapt out all at once, torches wavin' and bill-hooks at the ready. Someone fetched it a good one with a fishing spear and the cur turned and ran into the swamp. We took to the boats and chased it all the way to the Boneyard. Well, the thought of it desecrating our burial place was enough to put a fire under us but before we could surround the island a massive caiman, biggest I ever seen, splashed out of the water and took hold of the Beast. Dragged it under and started the death roll.

We backed oars and got out 'a there just as fast as we could, and with the Beast's blood tainting the place we ain't been back there to this day."

Elder Lazne spat a wad of swamp-juice for emphasis.

"So you did see the beast when you chased it correct, even if you never saw its corpse? And did you see it any time before the time you chased it into the swamp, say around the time of the first murders? Were any remains of the missing villagers ever found?" Darcon asked.

Elder Lazne shook his head sadly.

"No, we never did find any 'o them missin' folks. Beast musta' eaten 'em whole. Nobody saw the creature before that night, but we knew that only the Beast of Lepidstadt could be wicked and cruel enough to kidnap so many villagers. It was black as pitch but the glimpses that we caught by torch light will haunt me til my dying day. It was at least seven feet tall, all patchwork and grotesque, hairy and blubbery and scaley by turns." Lazne shuddered.

SCG takes it all in...quietly he wonders about the whole encounter as described those details will be important for the trial itself...
Did what he saw look like the sketch? Would a fishing spear wound still be visible?  Does he bleed? If so is it red?

Finally he says simply
“Obviously we need to go to that boneyard.  We can take flowers for the graves if you would like to also take the opportunity to honor your ancestors.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:14, Fri 22 Nov 2019.

Jonah looks the man over, and smiles a beaming smile, “What a charming tale, sir. As a singer of songs, and a teller of tales, I can tell you that your harrowing exploits make a tremendous story. In fact, I am planning on writing a ballad about the Beast and his capture. I believe that your tale will find it’s way into that song, and your bravery will live on for ages, like a true hero.”

He pauses, smiling at the man and his travelling companions, hoping he isn’t laying it on too thick.

“When researching parts of the song, the name Eller or Ellen or something like that came from our accounts from the Beast himself. You wouldn’t know of anyone who has that name around here. We want to hear all tales of bravery and courage against this foul creature. To make the song more authentic, you know.”

With this, Jonah pulls his instrument from behind his back, and plucks a few strings. “Now, I just need something that rhymes with Morast.”

OOC: Just in case Diplomacy is needed for an intrusive question: 17:04, Today: Jonah Raische rolled 18 using 1d20+11.  Diplomacy Roll.

Queitly enough so that the words wouldn't carry to the nearby womenfolk and children, Vadim cursed not quite under his breath.

"Nine dead by attack and unburied, and the graveyard unclean," he muttered, shaking his head. "I should have brought tools." His left hand made a habitual warding movement, a quick spiral, and Vadim shot Garland a meaningful look.

"How many new moons since you last tended to your dead?"  The rolled-up woodcut prints of the Beast in his pocket quite forgotten in the moment, Vadim shuffled in again and spoke to Lazne in low tones.  "Which gods does your village follow?  You thank those gods that none of your dead have come back looking for you. I am not here to tell you your business when you have had loss and dark times, but your burial ground must be set to rights before the thirteenth moon."

"For you we can do this, if you wish," he scratched his chin and shrugged his lop-sided shrug. "But, your traditions, your dead, your choice."

"Either way," Vadim addressed the others, nodding agreement with Sir Constantine, "We should go quickly. I do not wish to be among unquiet graves near dark."  Then he faltered, realising that he had trampled in on Jonah's exchange with the head man.

"Also, yes, this one is very good with his telling of stories.  'Ella', was it, the name?"

Shade nodded earnestly at Elder Lazne's story, but was very curious about a few relevant pieces of information.  The Beast was bigger than three men, and had snatched nine people, some of the able-bodied adults who worked for a living, without leaving much evidence, but a good stab from a spear could make it run?  It meant the Beast could be easily harmed by ordinary weapons, so it was unlikely that the blood caimen's attack had failed to harm it.  Yet it had escaped and survived.  The Elder's description sounded like the Beast, but smaller.  Was the Beast not eating the people it had taken, but doing something else?

The fact that the people of Morast hadn't gone back to their graveyard in a year was troubling. Yes, there had been a huge blood caimen in those waters, but surely curiosity hadn't prevented anyone from at least going to take a distant peek?

While Jonah and Sir Constantine and Vadim voiced their questions and opinions, Shade moved up next to the priest and mage to speak quietly about her suspicions.  "He says the Beast was seven feet tall.  The one we talked to was at least ten if he was a day.  Never found the bodies, or the caimen, but the Beast we saw was stitched together from all sorts of different parts. What if he wasn't eatin' 'em, but using them for spares?"

Nodding slowly as he stroked his chin Darcon replied to Shade in a low voice, "Yes, the description does appear to match the creature we saw bound in town. Still...we should not discount the possibility of two such creatures, or the fact that these townsfolk are not being completely honest."

The fact that none of the victims' bodies had been found was a big red flag to the mage, but of what he could not yet be sure. At this point the best lead he could think of, aside from visiting the spot in the swamp where the caiman had fought with the beast, was to visit the house of Aran. One attack had taken place within the house, making Darcon wonder why the beast had taken an interest in that particular house over others.

"How many of the abducted were directed relatives of Aran, aside from his own wife?" he asked Lazne curiously.

---

Sense Motive: 09

This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Mon 25 Nov 2019.

Elder Lazne nodded dubiously and scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"I can have some of the lads take you out to the boneyard if ye'd like. The honored dead buried there got our Lady Pharasma's rites when they died, but if ye'd say a prayer over them I'm sure we'd all appreciate it. Nobody's taken sick or died since the murders last year, thank the gods, but Old Merrilile said that she don't want to be buried in a spot tainted by the beast's blood, so I expect we'll be finding a new boneyard. Hopefully not for a long time yet." He said, with a respectful bow of his shaggy head.

"Ellen...Ellen, Hrm. Ain't no Ellen's in the village. Or any Ella neither."

Darcon asked about Aran's family and Elder Lazne shook his head.

"Bertille wasn't Aran's wife. Aran's been alone since his wife died near on ten years ago. We all hoped that he'd take up with Goody Bowlder now that Old Gus died, but they never did. Bertille was Aran's daughter-in-law, married to his son Wicklow. She was second cousins with Millie Cohn, who lost two sons to the beast, Hui and Turstom. Now, Millie's sister was married to Dowd..." He gave a lengthy family account of the victims. At first it seemed as if the murderer had been targeting one family, but as Lazne continued it became clear that you could pick any nine people from Morast and they would have some ties to the others, by blood or by marriage. The young men and women of the village typically met their spouses at festivals and gatherings at any of the nearby villages. Most folks in the area were some degree of relation.

He did lead them to Bertille's house, the only one to be attacked within the village. Her home had been repaired and cleaned in the year since the attack and offered no significant clues. It was at the very edge of the village closest to the boneyard, built out over the water on stout pilings and connected via boardwalk to the main island.

When our heroes expressed an interest in investigating the boneyard Elder Lazne called up four or five stout lads from the crowd. He seemed to pick with some care. The adventurers had offered coin, and the village elder picked out sons from families that could use the custom the most.

The fishermen of Morast plied the boggy waterways and shallow waters of the Dipplemere swamp in small fishing coracles, each big enough for three people, and piloted by a village youth with a long narrow oar to pole and scull.

"Anythin' else?" Elder Lazne asked as a trio of fresh faced youths punted their family's boats around the shore of the village's main island.

---

Darcon, you don't get a strong hunch about the situation.

Each boat can fit two of you plus a boatman, or you can pilot it yourself.

“If it would be possible when we return, if the men who participated in the trap could be here to tell us all the different things they recall.”
He passes five silvers over to the elder

SCG eyes a skiff
“Vadim and I in the first boat, he can pull me out of the water if a camin strikes and the two of us can secure the island so the remainder may dock safely.”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:58, Tue 26 Nov 2019.

Darcon gingerly stepped into one of the boats, and took a seat uncomfortably. He had little to no experience with traveling by water, and hoped they did not get attacked by any caimans, or any water dwelling creature for that matter.

Seeing as how the house visit had been disappointing and offering no clues, the mage saw this as their best opportunity to get something out of the trip here. "Well, lets get on with this," he said, gesturing to a boatman and any of his companions who wanted to join him in the boat.

"That is a good idea Sir Constantine, you take the lead and we shall follow. Beware of falling overboard though, your armor will prove to be an impediment in the waters," Darcon said to the paladin with some concern.

Garland shrugs at Darcon shaking his head side to side slowly. "Constantine and I both know the trials of swimming in armor. Proffessor Feramin's cell was a difficult challenge even with the summoned squid trying to gnaw on us. At the very least we should keep a good lookout, I will go on the second raft and have my crossbow ready as the rest of you cross."

SCG considers the problem he decides his armored kilt will not be too much nor the masterwork dark wood cloth armored coat.  He uses his chainbelt to secure his heavy steel shield to the boat with enough slack to hold it and to bind it to the boat in case it capsizes...

“Thank you for your wise council. We have learned well to properly prepare rather than rush headlong. Had I known boats would be involved I might have bought a special type of hand axe .”
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Thu 28 Nov 2019.

Shade gets on the second skiff with Garland, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow as he talks about a squid.  "Sommat summoned a squid to try to eat you?  That one must have been half-mad," she says, as Nook jumps up on her shoulder to stay clear of the water.  A little bit of puddling on the city streets was to be expected, but this vast expanse of wet was not to be tolerated in the least.  She kept her hands free for spellcasting, wary of anything that might be lurking around a graveyard so long avoided...
This message was last edited by the player at 07:15, Sat 30 Nov 2019.

Elder Lazne picked out three of the lads poling their boats along, all lanky and springy and about fourteen, well versed in the ways of the swamp and eager for a chance at a little spending money.

Marten jumped out to hold his small boat steady as Constantine and Darcon clamored aboard. After him Teg did the same, gawping just a little at Shade and holding out a hand to help her take he seat next to Garland. Dimka was a year or two older than the other boys and made room for Jonah and Vadim, eyeing the latter dubiously and positioning himself at the far side of the little skiff as he began to paddle away.

The journey through the swamp was slow and close, heavy air thick with moisture muting the various creaks and calls in the near distance from gods knew what kind of creature. Scraggly branches hung out and draped vines over the water like a curtain, limiting visibility to a few feet. The rare clear pools that showed the gnarled root system of the swamp trees below the water were interspersed between thick layers of green scum and huge lily pads. With the gently rocking motion of the boats and the close canopy of trees overhead the voyage felt like travelling through the belly of some great beast.

The village lads seemed perfectly at home in this damp and oppressive atmosphere, cheerily whistling or bantering back and forth as they cut surely and swiftly through the water. They navigated around small muddy islands and between the thick boles of twisted trees, taking our heroes some two miles from the village towards the center of the swamp.

All in all the plantlife was a palette of dark greens and browns with splashes of bright green creepers, the blue specks of poisonous frogs and the iridescent scales of hanging serpents that slithered quickly out of sight at the sounds of approaching humans. Here and there was even a splash of garish red in blooms and dripping sap, and the half submerged surface of a log drifting idly through the water towards the boats...

It was Vadim who was able to shout a warning as there was a great, furious splash of water and a flash of enormous jaws. The scummy surface of the swamp erupted just off the bow of the center coracle and the massive snout of an impossibly huge monstrosity broke the water. Young Teg shrieked and dove into the muck and the rolling, thrashing beast easily overturned the tiny craft spilling Shade and Garland into the water.

It was a blood caiman, one more enormous than even the mansized creatures famous for haunting the Dipplemere swamp, with a tremendous crest of crimson scales running from snout to tail and a ravenous gleam in its beady little eyes.

---

---

You are ambushed by an enormous blood caiman! Vadim's perception beats its stealth, so it doesn't get a surprise round on you. It doesn't get to capsize the boat and chomp on someone in the opening round.

The caiman bursts out of the water and capsizes the boat that Shade and Garland are traveling on. Garland fails a swim check but passes his reflex save to take a breath before being submerged, you are floundering but not drowning. Shade passes her save and is treading water.

Despite the thrashing creature the water is relatively calm, it's a DC10 swim check to right yourself or move a quarter of your speed, like normal. The water is murky and offers zero visibility. The two lads poling the boats are frozen in terror, it's a move action and a DC15 Diplomacy or Intimidate check to get them to move the boat 10ft.

---

BC - Blood Caiman, AC 21, touch 7, Fort +10, Ref +4, Will +3

CON - Constantine
DAR - Darcon
GAR - Garland, floundering
JON - Jonah
SHA - Shade
VAD - Vadim

TRE - Swamp trees

SCG sees the creature at a distance and fires an arrow at it out of the boat.

He misses the mark, but hopes to draw the beast in....

"Get us over there!"

Shade has never swum that much, other than in a bath or occasionally in a flood (a hazard of occasionally living in the sewers) but not dying was marvelous motivation.  With her nearly being face-to-snout with the creature, she curses and gives it a vicious glare, her eyes going briefly black and red.  She wants to weaken it against her magic, and from the flinch the blood caiman gave, she'd managed to rattle it!  Then she quickly pushes herself backwards through the water to get away from its enormous jaws.

"I weakened it against spells, get it!" she shouts.

OOC: 07:38, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 15 using 1d20.  Swim check.  Will move straight back to H5.
07:36, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Will save for Blood Caiman.  Blood caiman fails its save against Shade's evil eye hex, and now takes a -2 on all its saves for 6 rounds.

Constantine's arrow plunked into the muck uselessly but his rousing words had an instant effect on young Marten. He seized the long oar in shaky hands and stooped to a long pull, punting forwards towards the thrashing creature churning the water into froth.

The situating facing Shade was far, far more dire. Nook yowled and screeched, a tiny lump of sodden fur that clawed its way thorough the water to her and latched on with painful pricks. The blood caiman, brute and beast that it was, had no special defenses against her hexing magics. Indeed, it seemed hardly to notice as it powered through the water with a flick of its tail as she futilely tried to pull away from it.

Crushing jaws snapped shut on one of her legs and a cloud of blood was churned into the muck and the scum as the beast thrashed about, tossing her like a rag as it tried to tear off the limb.

---

---

Constantine misses with an arrow but shakes Marten out of his terrified state, he begins poling towards the fight. You can command him from this point without making further checks unless you ask him to do something dangerous.

Shade's hex goes off on the blood caiman and she swims away. Nook is sharing your square and holding onto you, you can assume that he's (she's?) safe from drowning unless you send him out on a solo mission, in which case he'll need to make swim checks like normal.

The blood caiman follows Shade and bites her for 10 damage. It also succeeds on its grab attempt, Shade you are grappled. Its movement provokes from Garland.

Garland, you have an attack of opportunity.

Darcon, Garland, Jonah, and Vadim, since you were skipped you get an additional standard action this round.

---

BC - Blood Caiman, AC 19, touch 7, Fort +8, Ref +2, Will +1, evil eye hex 1/6, Grappled

CON - Constantine
DAR - Darcon
GAR - Garland, floundering
JON - Jonah
SHA - Shade, 10 damage, grappled
VAD - Vadim

TRE - Swamp trees
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:20, Wed 04 Dec 2019.

Shade gasps at the pain, helpless at the strength of the massive animal.  Fear chills her as her lifesblood stains the swamp around her, and she knows she cannot withstand another bite like that.  She draws upon the one good piece of magic she knows to flood herself with healing magic, trying to stave off a messy end here in the swamp.  As long as she is alive, she can still act!  Nook clings to her pathetically, and she calls to him:

"Nook, if I go under, jump for safety!"


OOC: 05:24, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 8 using 1d6+4.  Healing Hex.
Shade now at 13/15 hp

In the polite version of the story which might be told if he survived, Vadim's warning might have been described as a sudden, "What's there?"

The actual call was rather more colourful, upon identifying the enormous jaws of the biggest creature, living or dead, that the gravedigger had ever seen in his lifetime.  Indeed, the shock of such a behemoth bursting forth from the water stunned him such that he could barely comprehend what was happening.

Yet, despite his apparent shock, a vial appeared in his hand; in an instant, almost before he was conscious of it, Vadim had thumbed open the draught and placed it to his lips.  If the bitter taste itself had not brought him back to reality, the burning in his muscles and the very heat in his bones triggered a deep instinct.  Grunting as though winded he half-stepped, half-fell over the gunwale and the turgid water swallowed him.

An instant later his scowling head emerged, twice the size of when it went under and plastered with scum.  Something in his face suggested that the water tasted as bad as it looked;  he shook himself and lashed out with an ogrish forearm, aiming to break the monster's hold or at least a good handful of its teeth with the armoured plates of his coat.

---

Swift Action:  1/day retrieve item (potion of Enlarge Person)
Free Action:  5' Step into the water at K3 (so as not to capsize the boat)
Move Action:  Drink potion (now Large size, occupying J3, J4, K3, K4, 10' Reach, -1 AC, -1 to hit, +2 Str)

Standard Action:  Unarmed Strike w/Power Attack
23:08, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 12 using 1d20+7.  Unarmed Strike w/Power Attack.

Standard Action 2:  Unarmed Strike w/Power Attack
23:09, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  Unarmed Strike w/Power Attack 2.
23:10, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 16 using 1d8+10.  Unarmed Strike w/Power Attack 2 (damage).
(On the off chance there's some flanking, inspiration, or other bonuses forthcoming...)

23:18, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 20 using 1d20+7.  Swim Check (if needed to stay afloat).

SCG sees no way around taking the risk of firing into the beast he aims to avoid his companions and fires an arrow.

“Bring us closer lad; there’s only so much I can do at a distance.”

Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  Arrow damage. 09:53, Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Firing into melee

It was the oddest sensation, and very unpleasant, as Shade's wave of healing magic knit flesh currently being torn by the monstrous caiman. Perhaps the healing magic would have left great divots in her leg, cast as it was with teeth still attached.

Tragically the point was rendered quite moot. The blood caiman wrenched its massive body over and began to roll over and over in the water, splashing and picking up speed in an all too effective attempt to drown Shade or tear her apart.

Constantine and Vadim were the first to respond, loosing arrows and leaping directly into the fray. Dimka let out a half choked, panicked gobble when Vadim's very strange looking hand twisted to snatch a potion from his pouch, and a VERY loud shout when he dove into the swamp and sprouted to twice his height.

Jonah was able to calm the boy somewhat, and set him to paddling quickly to where Garland was still wallowing. He wasn't idle in the meantime, loosing an arrow of his own that stuck from the caiman's thorny hide.

Darcon too struck out, but the jolt of power that he unleashed dissipated harmlessly against the swamp water.

---

---

Shade heals herself for 8.

Constantine shoots and misses, the boat moves 10ft closer to the caiman.

Vadim drinks a potion of Enlarge Person and strikes for one miss and one hit. Things happen in a sort of muteable timeframe during the player phase so I'm putting your turn after Constantine's when he's in a flanking position. BC takes 16 damage. The swamp is 10ft deep, so you can stand on the bottom (barely) without making swim checks.

The blood caiman uses its Death Roll ability, dealing its bite damage to Shade. She would also be knocked prone if you weren't swimming. Shake takes 12 damage.

Garland fails 2 swim checks and keeps right on drowning.

Jonah fires an arrow at the caiman and hits for 4 damage. He makes a diplomacy check to move the boatman closer.

Darcon casts Jolt but misses on a nat 1.

Darcon, Garland, and Jonah, since you were skipped you get an additional standard action this round.

---

BC - Blood Caiman, AC 19, touch 7, Fort +8, Ref +2, Will +1, 20 damage, evil eye hex 2/6, Grappled

CON - Constantine
DAR - Darcon
GAR - Garland, floundering
JON - Jonah
SHA - Shade, 14 damage, grappled
VAD - Vadim, enlarge person

TRE - Swamp trees

"Magica Altum Scintillis! Magica Altum Scintillis!!" Darcon chanted loudly from his position in the boat, thrusting his arm with fingers pointed outwards as he completed the spell.

Crackling bolts of azure power streaked out and lashed into the massive creature sizzling as they struck its warty hide.

The mage was concerned for Shade, knowing that if the Caiman dragged her under the water with its jaws still clamped around her leg she was done for.

"Kill it before it can submerge, quickly!" he called out to the others.

---

Jonah fires a bow into the creature, "I think I got a bit of him!" he shouts.

He calls to the boatman pointing towards Shade, "Paddle towards her! We've got the creature on the run!"

OOC: Using Bluff if needed to convince the boatman, or even himself.

15:53, Today: Jonah Raische rolled 23 using 1d20+9.  Bluff.
15:49, Today: Jonah Raische rolled 6 using 1d6.  Damage vs Caiman.
15:49, Today: Jonah Raische rolled 20 using 1d20+5.  Bow Attack.

Cold waves from the caiman's thrashing washed up Vadim's nose and he snorted and sputtered, trying to wipe his face clear.  He was inclined to let the beast disappear with its prize and was on the verge of withdrawal when Darcon's shout made him take a second look.  Against all sense the girl seemed to still be moving of her own accord, defiantly refusing to be the corpse she by all rights ought to.

Most people have times in their lives they would like to forget, times where they made choices to act or live in a way they regret, dark and formative experiences which shape a better person for the swearing never, ever to go back.  And in a split second Vadim broke that promise to himself.

"You know what to do," he growled in Varisian, barely avoiding another mouthful of blood and silt.  Beneath the water his hand twitched and curled, claw-like as Vadim waited for the caiman's head to snap back in his direction.

Lashing out almost of its own accord Vadim's hand raked toward the creature's eye, just barely hooking into a vulnerable point in the surrounding skin.  In the moment of contact, those monstrous tentacles tattooed over the back of the gravedigger's fingers took on their own shadowy life, animating and squirming, the tattoo itself whipping out from his skin to plunge into the caiman's slit pupil.

---

Move Action:  Use Martial Flexibility to gain 'Belier's Bite' feat for 1 minute.

Standard Action:  Unarmed Strike
22:18, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 19 using 1d20+9.  Unarmed Strike.
22:19, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 10 using 1d8+6.  Unarmed Strike damage.
(Unarmed strike also inflicts 1d4 bleed damage from 'Belier's Bite').

Immediate Action:  Activate Serpentine Tattoo to make a Dirty Trick attempt (inflicting the Blind condition for 1 round, or 2 rounds if we're still flanking since I forgot to add that bonus.)
22:20, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 28 using 1d20+11.  Dirty Trick (Blind).

9/10 rounds Enlarge Person remaining, 10/10 rounds Belier's Bite

SCG assumes any references to saving the cat is directly about shade...
“Let us make quick work of this beast!”

Finally being close enough SCG attacks with his magical sword and watches it bite into the beast
Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 3 using 1d8+2.  Longsword damage. 08:23, Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Attack +1 long sword
This message was last edited by the player at 16:04, Thu 05 Dec 2019.

Gripped in the jaws of the massive animal, there's little Shade can do with her magic; the pain and being shaken like a rag doll had driven away her ability to make the gestures and words necessary to focus her will.  Instead she concentrates on the magic of the gloves she wears, invoking its minor ability to move things.  The force of magic snatches up a clump of mud and debris to drop on the blood caiman's nose.  Maybe, just maybe, between the confusing swirl of others in the water and attacking it, and the possible sensation that something was trying to block off its nostrils, it might want to let the mostly-dead Shade-morsel go in favor of attacking the more dangerous foes!

OOC: Using apprentice's cheating gloves to invoke mage hand to slap some mud over the blood caiman's nostrils. 

Under magical and mundane assault the great creature thrashed and let out a sound that may have been a hiss from a smaller reptile, but from the enormous blood caiman sounded like a deep, burbling rumble.

The price of an easy meal was just too high as arrows sprouted from its hide and Vadim landed a shattering haymaker. The creature whirled in the water, flinging Shade away, and began a sinuous retreat. Before it could get far Darcon struck unerringly, his magic undeterred by the obscuring swamp water and weeds, his magic missiles punching through the beast's hide. Momentum carried it another twenty or thirty feet through the water before it began to drift, dead, a floating island of scaly flesh.

Teg bobbed nearby, wide eyed and pale, while the other two lads quickly paddled to where Shade and Garland were still struggling in the water.

The third coracle was utterly smashed, unable to be salvaged, but with the exception of the temporarily enormous Vadim, a tight squeeze would see space on the remaining boats for everyone.

---

You bring down the blood caiman, congratulations!

SCG moved to aid the small woman out of the water; fearing she was bleeding out or drowning he used a quick lay on hands to stabilize her.

“Oh tiny lass this was why I had gotten those potions so you not end up as a snack.”

Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 5 using 2d6.  Lay on hands.

He points at the carcass of the gator
“Perhaps this can be taken back as evidence for the trial.”

Swims up to the surface as best he can, taking a breath before he looks around for the nearest bit of dry land or boat and makes for it. Once he lifts himself out of the muck he takes a long breath. "Surely this is evidence that there are things out here that could easily kill people and disappear. Lets get some ropes and haul the corpse to shore."

OOC: Sorry all Im on vacation at the moment, still will be for 2 more days and hotel internet is spotty at the best of times

Shade gasps as Sir Constantine pulls her and the bedraggled Nook from the now-still swamp.  She coughs as he touches her leg, the wounds starting to close.  And he'd done it without her begging for it...  Shade mentally shakes herself, and tries to sit up a little. "Thank you for that.  I got a healing knack, but it only works on a person once a day.  That's enough for most places, as I try not to make myself fish bait on a regular basis."

SCG passes the girl off to Garland for proper healing.
“Use the wand of healing on this one while the large vandim collects our new luggage.”

Do we need to roll for Garland?  I can throw a couple of 1d8+1 into the dice roller!


He throws a smile at the large man
“No offense intended.”

Curtly, Vadim nodded back at Sir Constantine.  Carrying bodies was Vadim's stock in trade, after all.  Wary of the sharp end, he grabbed the swamp-monster's tail and slogged back toward the remaining coracles.

"You have ropes?  Body will grow heavy when water fills inside."  He wedged the corpse against the trees to stop it drifting, then used his reach to pull himself up onto some exposed roots.  Swamp-water cascaded back down into the bog, splashing and chattering as it poured from his coat and sodden clothes in a sudden gush as he shrank back to his original size.  Trembling all over Vadim ground his teeth;  he had the post-combat shakes on top of being wet through, and his twitchy hand was giving him the irrits.  Tempting as it was to give the lads a dressing-down for not spotting the caiman themselves, he figured Lazne would tan their hides accordingly when he found out what had passed.  It wasn't Vadim's place, he was just riled up and rattled at the same time.

"So, where now?  We take muck-dragon back to village, or go on to graveyard?"

“The bone yard good sir; we might only take the head and skin with us as evidence; plus i wanted to check what he’s eaten and he might make for a good lunch.”

It was an odd sort of conference over the massive corpse of the caiman. Half crowded onto the boats, half clinging to the damp roots of the nearby trees. Dimka pushed back his broad straw hat and scratched at his narrow forehead.

"Thisn's too big to get 'er back with just the fishers we got 'ere." He said, gesturing to the two remaining coracles.

"We'll have to come back with one of the flatboats, take the hide and the meat. The boneyard is about a half mile slog that'a'way through some pretty boggy terrain, but if you stick to the islands you can get there afoot. Can't get back to the town on foot though lesn' you go all the way around the water meadow, it's too deep to ford.

We kin send Teg 'n Marten back to town to round some boats 'n skinners, I'll stay here and keep the feeder crabs off. Should be safe enough, nothin would be foolish enough to hang around this beaut's territory 'cept us.

Y'all wanna head back with them boys, or keep on to the boneyard?"

---

A march through the swamp is difficult and would take about an hour unless you can pass a DC15 survival check.

Shade looks at her bad leg, at the mire of the swamp, and the bulk of the blood caiman.  Then she looks back towards the direction of Lepidstadt.

"I know we're short of time and need t' get there and back fast.  But I'm gimped up for a good while, so unless one of you is woodswise, I think we'd best head back with the boys.  Or at least I should.  I'd just slow you down," Shade says, hugging herself and Nook to try to get a little warmth after her ducking, attack, and dire injury.

"Take bones back as well.  All of them."  Vadim thumped the corpse with the toe of his boot for emphasis, "Bring other flat boat;  we will clean properly later."  Orienting himself toward the cemetery as indicated he squinted suspiciously at the water, leery of whatever invisible legion of 'feeder crabs' might be amassing amongst the roots beneath his feet.

"You are wounded," he nodded in agreement with Shade, trying to get a glimpse of her leg while he dug out a rag and the battered Wayfinder he had produced earlier.  A trickle exuded from his fist as he squeezed excess swamp-water out of the cloth. "You should return, unless you wish to ride on my shoulders."  It was half a joke, but she looked like she weighed nothing and Vadim guessed she would hardly slow him down;  the middle of the swamp was hardly a place to stand on ceremony if the injured girl was reluctant to go back to wait alone in a village of strangers.  He wiped as much of the muck as he could from his face and those parts of his neck that he could reach, then blew his nose loudly in a vain attempt to clear out the stench of primordial life that seemed to cling to his sinuses.  As for slogging through the swamp on foot, he was already wet through so that made no difference to him.  If the overgrown newt had its revenge from beyond the grave by causing him to catch swamp fever from the water he'd swallowed or his death of cold, so be it.  Vadim didn't trust that there weren't undead already shambling about that island after what had happened.

"So, this way?" he asked Dimka, trying to get a read from the lazy needle and pointing directly toward the deepest part of the water.  Giving up on the Wayfinder he put it back in his pocket and cast about for a suitable piece of flotsam to arm himself with.  He had to admit to himself that he was impressed with Judge Daramid's choices;  the kid had some grit and the others were more than just well-heeled out-of-towners.  Even if the Pharasman couldn't swim in that armour to save his life.

---

Can Vadim grab the long oar that was being used aboard the now broken boat, or some other piece of wood?
Shade, you're welcome to get a ride.
01:09, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 2 using 1d20.  Aid Another - Survival (for once we get started).

“We have time to wait here; you young men get back to the village and bring a big boat back.  We will wait here; then we will go on to the boneyard afterwards.”


“And someone get this lady healed up; we have plenty of charges yet on that wand.”

SCG works to heft and tie the beast up out of the water onto the tree roots...
“The headband hide and stomach contents will be evidence for the trial.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:05, Sat 07 Dec 2019.

Darcon gritted his teeth as he looked at the terrain; he was not looking forward to a trek through the swamp at all but at the same time they needed to investigate the boneyard, else their journey and travails here would be for naught.

"I don't believe we need to wait for the boat Sir Constantine, we might as well save time and slog through the swamp and see the boneyard. Vadim here has offered to carry the lady Shade, and the rest of us should be able to make it if we stick together, slow going as it may be." the mage remarked.

---

Survival: 11

"Go ahead and get the boats while we wait. We need to discuss how we are going to enter this evidence into the trial. What would consititute enough evidence to be presented? The head, the skin, the entire body? My knowledge of the legal system fails me in this regard"

Shade looks at Vadim and gives him a nod.  "If time is flying, I'll be cargo.  Thanks, Vadim."

As the others debate about whether or not to wait, Shade was interested in Garland's question about the blood caiman and its use as evidence.  "The folks around here might know if a blood caiman that size could have eaten the Beast.  Maybe bring the stomach?  Or drawings and measurements with the witnesses?  ...Could the blood caiman have stomached the metal the Beast is stitched together with?  Or would that have made it too hard to eat?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:38, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

With no time to lose our heroes divided their efforts. Darcon, Vadim, and Shade slogged off through the swamp in an effort to reach the island graveyard in a timely fashion, while Garland, Constantine and Jonah remained with Dimka and the massive, scaley corpse of the blood caiman.

The two lads were gone for the better part of an hour which gave Garland ample opportunity to examine the massive crocodilian. It was prime specimen, pot bellied and more than twice as long as Garland was tall, with bow legs and an enormous maw filled with terrible teeth. It bore all the marks of an apex predator, long healed scars and gashes from clashes with other carnivores and gore marks from panicked prey, all layered over a hide so horney and scaly that only a powerful blow would penetrate.

All of this made an inspection for anything out of the ordinary difficult. But such was Garland's medical expertise that he was able to sort the normal wear and spot a series of long scars that didn't seem consistent with a predator's life. They were long healed, but the beast had a series of long, perfectly straight, razor thin scars around its eyes and snout. That sort of scarring would only be consistent with blows from a bladed weapon, and nothing as large or damaging as a sword or axe. It looked as if the caiman had received a series of blows from a dagger or long razor at sometime in the past.

At length the boys arrived with a flatboat full of fishermen and the village skinner, who quickly turned the area into a work platform and started in on the corpse--skinning, butchering, and pulling out every piece that could be used. It was a huge job, likely to take the rest of the afternoon, but the villagers also arrived with extra boats to take the rest of the group on to the boneyard.

---

The trek through the swamp was a sucking, sodden slog. A journey of less than a mile turned into a meandering, aimless route as our heroes moved from island to island in search of a clear way through the mire. At times they had to wade through water up to the waist, and more than once they reached a dead end spit of land and had to re-trace their steps to find a clear route.

Perhaps motivated by the sharp claws that dug into her shoulder whenever she got too deep into the water, Shade seemed to have the easiest time moving through the swamp. She had to spend her time waiting on Vadim and Darcon, both of whom had a particularly tough time slogging through the wet and the muck.

They didn't make up very much time on their way to the boneyard. It was almost an hour later when the little islet containing Morast's graveyard hovered into view, and it was a very footsore and muddy trio of adventurers that stumbled onto it.

Or very nearly stumbled onto it.

Just as they were wading the final stretch to the shore they could hear the swishing of oars behind them and the stifled chuckles of Dimka and Teg, who tried to keep their faces still as they poled past with the others in tow.

---

At last our heroes stood on the banks of a small island in the center of the swamp. Once well maintained but now given to a year's overgrowth and neglect, the small surface rose to a quite dry hillock in the center and was surrounded by scraggly swamp trees planted in a ring just at the water's edge around the island perimeter. Stone markers could be seen through the reeds at the crest of the hill.

Crude fetishes, simple, roughly humanoid figures made of sticks and bound with twine, dangled from the trees and were propped in the reeds. The three village lads made a respectful gesture as they stepped onto the island and began twisting new fetishes of their own to leave at their ancestor's graves to mark the visit.

---

You don't manage to make any progress through the swamp so you don't make up any time. Shade passed her survival, but Darcon and Vadim both failed.

Jonah steps onto the muddy graveyard area, watching as the villagers paid their respects. "Lovely spot. Fishing any good around here?" he says with a wry smile.

He uses his keen senses to keep on lookout for anything that might approach, as Jonah is a bit rattled from the encounter with the caiman.

Jonah pulls out his mandolin and starts strumming a tune, a sorrowful tune of sorts for the mood of the graveyard. "My skills are not too useful here, I'm afraid. Let me know if I can help. My playing has soothed the minds of many, and helped them focus as needed. "
"

“It would seem we have all made it to the boneyard.  Perhaps now we can look about.”

SCG resets himself strapping his heavy living steel shield in place and reattaching his chainbelt to his armored kilt.

“I told them we need both the head, skin; and stomach contents for the trial.”

He does a quick scan of the island for a lay of the land,
Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Perception
“Anyone else think this place will be foggy at night?”
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Mon 09 Dec 2019.

Echoing the motion of the village lads, Vadim also made his gesture of respect for the local dead before offering Shade a hand across the last reach of water.  Even for someone of his frame he had lifted her effortlessly on the very few occasions they had to pass over an obstacle;  more frequently he was relying on her guidance in order to pull himself out of the mud or to avoid overbalancing after yet another swampy blunder.  After Darcon's spectacular magical display Vadim clearly considered the man an archmage, and had probed the magic-user with questions about the hows and whys of magic used to raise and bind undead as they had dragged themselves through the swamp -- at least, insofar as the other would engage.

"I told them to take the bones," Vadim growled, unlacing his boots and sitting on an exposed root to try to wash some of the mud out.  Sore and weary though he was, he found himself glad for having been active over the past hour.  He watched the little wicker men twist in the breeze and tried to guess at what had led the first villagers to place their graves here, of all places.  Pulling his boots back on he shook his head;  swamp-folk he would never understand, and after the past hour or so he would be content if he never had the chance to.  That aside, he had work to do.

"Do you know 'Children come home to mother', and maybe 'The Lady's vanguard'?" he asked Jonah.  In terms of culture and repertoire Vadim was, to say the least, somewhat insulated.  When it came to music fit for a burial ground however, well, that was a different story, and Vadim was hardly going to turn down an opportunity for ongoing music while he worked.  That was a rare occurrence indeed.

"I will do what I can," he bowed to Garland rather ceremonially, if a touch arthritically.  "You tell me if there is help that you need to bless these buried.  I know some prayers."  Vadim turned to the others and cracked his knuckles, acknowledging the knight's suggestion.

"First we check to see if any of the graves are disturbed, yes.  Tread with care.  Follow any paths." He looked back out into the swamp, which was too quiet and too noisy at the same time.  "Perhaps we go in pairs."

---

Vadim will start checking on the graves and, if none of them seem to have been disturbed, will set to tidying up the overgrowth and generally tending to the neglected cemetery.

This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Fri 13 Dec 2019.

Jonah idly strummed to pass the time as our heroes spread out to search the boneyard, but far from distracting his song seemed to sharpen and enhance their perceptiveness.

The boneyard was a large wooded island, rising to a firm and dry hillock in the middle and ringed by the muddy, swampy banks common in the marsh. Here and there markers with names and dates were distributed under the trees, clustered in family groups and tacking back through Morast's history.

---

---

Jonah and Garland found the old remains of a small camp at the southern end of the island. There was an old, abandoned fire pit, a moldering tent that had long since collapsed, a tin plate and rusty spoon and what may have been the burst remains of an old wineskin. Nobody had camped there recently.

Nearby in the weeds was a small coracle similar to the boats that had brought the group to the boneyard. It was tied to the shore and the reedy growth around it showed that it too was long abandoned.

The graves themselves were at first un-promising but Darcon's sharp eye caught six that appeared to have been tampered with. None of the six were clustered together but an examination of the dates showed that these were the six most recent bodies interred in the boneyard. The soil was sagging as if collapsed from below, an odd circumstance considering the well maintained nature of the rest of the graves. Vadim was easily able to point out that the coffins had been exhumed and the graves re-filled.

---

Your initial search of the island turns up three main points of interest, the camp, the boat, and the tampered graves. You can make perception or survival checks on each, or take 20 which will take 1 hour. You could also take 20 searching the entire island which will take the remainder of the afternoon until nightfall.

SCG takes in the island and inquires of the others
“Would the camp then be the murderers and since he died by camin he failed to return?”

SCG looks at the boat and Swampy growth
“Anyone want to help retrieve the small boat among the reeds?”
If nothing else maybe a clue was onboard or some way to identify the murderous camper

Darcon eyed the disturbed graves thoughtfully, trying to process what it might mean. "We should investigate those more closely," he remarked, gesturing at the disturbed graves in turn. "Does anyone have anything against say, digging one up and seeing what we uncover?"

Shade had been rather pleased that, despite her injury, she had been able to navigate the swamp without too much trouble.  The threat from Nook if he dared wet his paws again had also been a potent motivator.  Unfortunately her companions had made heavy work of the trek, and she might as well have waited for a ride.

Well, they had other talents.

At the boneyard, she wanted over to the camp and boat, giving a cursory glance at the graves before examining the remains of occupation with great interest.

"Who sleeps in a graveyard?  Who camps in one?  Aside from a gravedigger, I suppose..." she muses out loud.


OOC: 20:33, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 18 using 1d20+10.  Perception on camp.
20:33, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 28 using 1d20+10.  Perception on boat.
20:33, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 11 using 1d20+10.  Perception on graves.
20:36, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 21 using 1d20+5.  Nook Perception on graves.
20:36, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  Nook Perception on boat.
20:36, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Nook Perception on camp.

"The dead must stay in their graves. If there is evidence they have been distrubed or have risen after their burial I will consent to search them. However undisturbed graves will remain so." he says, stressing that he will not let anyone violate the final rest of someone without cause.

"Let's have a look around first, then we can work with what evidence we find rather then jump to our own conclusions."

"Well, I'm not quite in the mood to start investigating graves, so I say let's start with checking out the boat." says Jonah, "I sing about the undead occassionally, and that is the frequency I want to keep my encounters." and he goes over with Constantine to help pull the boat.

"I think you will find very little," Vadim commented to Darcon, "But we will see."  He lent a hand lifting the boat onto the shore for further inspection, though his interest was more in finding whatever oar or paddle had been used by the previous owners than in taking note of any clues as to their identity or origin.  Likewise his brief look around the camp seemed more focused on looking for useful tools than any other thorough investigation.

At the graves, however, he changed tack;  he ran his hands over each marker to feel for any chips, cracks, or other indicators of tampering, then put on his spectacles to peer closely at the stonework or carving, the vegetation and regrowth, and the presence or absence of any fetishes.  Once he was done probing and prodding he returned his glasses to their pocket, doffed his clanking greatcoat, and did some lopsided stretches in preparation for the dig.  As he did so, Vadim quizzed their guides on the identity, physical description, and cause of death of each occupant.

---

OOC: Can Vadim take the oar from the coracle and use it for a shovel?  Likewise, if he can spot any digging tools at the camp he'll take those before investigating the graves.

Spending an hour to take 20 with Profession: Gravedigger at the gravesites.  Total of 30 (or 28 with the -2 for using improvised tools, if that applies)

06:00, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 12 using 1d20.  Survival (Boat).
05:59, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Perception (Boat).

06:00, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 12 using 1d20.  Survival (Camp).
06:00, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Perception (Camp).

While Garland and Darcon were respectfully examining the sunken graves Shade looked over the long abandoned camp and Jonah helped Constantine with the boat.

Vadim's examination of the gravestones revealed nothing unique, they appeared to be of the same cut and quality as all the surrounding grave markers. The lads were able to give details about the deceased, four elderly who had passed, one of sickness, and one who had been wounded in an accident and succumbed. The empty graves didn't seem to have much in common beyond being the most recent.

As it turned out their exhumation was merely an excavation, there was no body buried below the ground. Below the short growth of loam they found the shredded remains of a burial wrap but no body. The collapsed nature of the earth suggested that there had been a body buried there at one point which was then exhumed and the earth replaced, leading the the partial collapse of the grave. Vadim's professional expertise was easily able to point out that the collapsed but undisturbed nature of the grave meant that the body had been removed by a third party. It wasn't likely an undead clawing its way free from the earth as he and Garland both feared.

A more careful examination of the camp confirmed the first sightings, it had been used sometime in the past but had been abandoned for quite a while. While it certainly had not been used in the past months, none of our heroes possessed the woodcraft to determine when exactly it had been abandoned.

In the collapsed remains of the tent Vadim found an empty glass vial that still held the dried residue of a green substance clinging to its walls. Shade guessed that it was a potion but Darcon was able to correctly identify it as a similar substance, an extract, a potion-like concoction favored by alchemists. A brief magical examination of it showed that the vial had once contained an extract of darkvision.

Also in the tent was a delicate razor with a long pearl handle. Garland identified it as a scalpel, a medical instrument used by physicians and chiurgeons. It was of exceptionally fine workmanship and had the figure of a raven carved into the end of the handle.

The boat was still sound, with an oar, a backpack that held an old damp artisan's outfit (shirt, breeches, shoes, and an oiled canvas apron), and long dried bloodstains on the bottom. There was a length of rope lashed to one of the oar locks that ran into the water below. When Constantine dragged it up he pulled a large sack from the muck, big enough to hold a man. Inside the sack was a coil of rope, a gag, a rusty hooded lantern, a leather case that held three carving knives of various sizes, and a rusted shovel.

While Constantine was hauling at the sack Jonah spotted a pale, graying, hairy little lump discarded under one of the boat's benches. It could have been a mass of pond scum or the remains of some small rodent, but when he investigated he found something far more horrifying. It was the skin of a detached human face.

“I am afraid my friends we have found something very sinister indeed.  I have no ideas but likely kidnapping, torture and murder and also was it eating the bodies?”

The clues mean little to SCG
Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 19 using 1d20+1. Eternal understanding trait Knowledge under 15 DC.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:12, Wed 11 Dec 2019.

SCG lays out the findings on the ground for inspection
See DM post above

"Aye." Dimka nodded gravely to Constantine.

"We knew that the Beast must've been taking villagers to eat them up. Wicked creature."

Jonah picks up the piece of gray lump, realizes what it was and practically flings it down, but is able to do so somewhat respectfully. Before dramatically shivering in place.

“That’s really disgusting! I don’t think in even in the stories I break out for The Night of the Pale ever described peeling the skin off someone’s face. Anyone have any ideas if this was done to someone recently alive, or one of the bodies missing from the graves.”

He pauses, “You know, I’m not sure I really want the answers to that question.”

He bows nobily to Constantine, “With your leave, sir. I can do little more here. Let me see if I can help the others.”

With that, he makes his way over to Vadim, and starts plucking on the mandolin a bit, “Let’s see. Been a while since I played the 'The Lady's vanguard'. Jonah the elder used to play with me and sing it a bit when travelling in the lowlands. If you can at least hum it a bit as I play, I’m sure it will come back to me.”

OOC: Jonah continues to perform Bardic Performance: Inspire Competence

"What do you mean, 'face'?" Vadim downs tools, such as they are with what he's cobbled together out of found materials, and hustles back to the boat.  The wrinkled skin gets a grim set of the jaw, but it's the sight of the gag which brings a creak of protest from the wood as his knuckles tighten to white around the gunwale.  Suddenly it seemed as though the croaking of the frogs and crickets was an ominous prelude to an answer nobody wanted.

"Goes something like this," he said to Jonah, beginning to hum an old dirge, recognisable enough albeit distinctly off-key.  From separate pockets Vadim produced a straight-razor and a boline, gently lifting the old skin onto the boat's seat and teasing the edges out to give a clearer picture of what -- or whom -- they were dealing with.  His left hand wouldn't seem to stop trembling, threatening to slice the skin into pieces with his razor, and in the end he stepped back to leave the others to it.

---

Trying to determine whether the skin was removed post-mortem.

13:13, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Profession (Mortician).  Doesn't include the bonus from Jonah, but I don't think that's going to make enough of a difference in this case.

The grotesque little scrap was undeniably a human skin, not any sort of mask or recreation. It was old and would surely have rotted long ago were it not preserved by the natural mineral water of the swamp.

Even still, Vadim wasn't able to identify how old it was or whether it had been gruesomely collected from a living victim.

---

Vadim, you don't manage to glean any more information from it than that it is indeed a human face.

Let me know if there's further investigations that you'd like to do in the swamp, or if you'd like to move back to Morast or Lepidstadt.

As he inspected their findings, Darcon had a brief uncomfortable flashback to the Splatterman of Harrowstone upon seeing the scalpel, and he eyed the scalpel with unease.

"What do you make of that Garland, does that carving of the raven hold any significance?" he queried the cleric.

The mage wasn't sure what to make of the vial they had uncovered. "Perhaps someone used it here during the night, be it the beast or someone else," he muttered aloud.

Not having much else to go on Darcon raised a palm and murmured a simple spell, slowly waving his arm over the area trying to see if he could get any more information using his arcane senses.

---

Casting Detect Magic. Darcon will try to detect magic in the campsite as well as the graves and the general area.

“I guess that honestly we have gotten all that we can from here.  Most of this we can take back for evidence.  Some items point towards a different perpetrator it is like some story the professor told a murder in the rue morgue but...”

SCG voice trails off with fond memories
He rubs the new holy symbol on a chain around his neck

“Perhaps we can run this all by Kendra and see what she thinks and a librarian may be helpful as well.”

“So back to get the witness statements and then back to town?”

Shade had observed the things pulled from the water, the items in the tent, and recalled the scars on the blood caiman, the structure of the beast, the detached horrible face...

"I has theories," she says finally.  "Whoever it was came here, maybe dug in the dark, plucked up what they wanted from the graves.  Cut off what they wanted, as they had the tools for it.  Cut what they wanted from the caiman too.  Scars on its face, more like that scalpel here than claws.  I'd say they used what they harvested.  Might have sunk the rest in the swamp and let the animals deal with it.  Left their tools as they didn't want to be burdened, or thought they'd be back when people had dropped a new crop in the boneyard."  Shade gives a small shrug.  "Not evidence, but signs of more of a plot.  Signs of a helper, rather than just the Beast.  Or maybe, a master.  We didn't know that for certain, but now we have tools, a tent too small for it.  It doesn't seem the sort to use tools.  If it just wanted bodies, it had them, and fresh ones, so why dig up others?  Someone else did that.  For certain, there's another person involved."

"Could be so," Vadim nodded slowly in assent after chewing over what Shade and Sir Constantine had to say.  He stuck out his thumb and frowned at it. "First, as the little one says, the tent is too small for our Beast and the boat almost so;  and why use a spade when your hands already are bigger each than shovels?"  He added a forefinger.

"Next, our Beast is put together from dead parts;  the living dead do not have problems seeing in the catacombs or the moonless night.  Why would it need such a drink to see?"  Vadim stuck out his middle finger, kinked at the second knuckle where it had been broken badly at some point in the past. 

"Third, to remove a... this skin..." he cleared his throat awkwardly and touched his forehead in the direction of the remains, "I have assisted Master Pavel at the mortuary for many years, and even his practiced hand would find such delicate work.. to be challenging.  This is the mark of one who has studied and practiced much, not a creature of short patience and thick fingers like Lozerian sausage."  Straining against the insistent twitch, Vadim gave up on counting and folded his arms.

"This great lizard, though, about this I am less sure.  It did not seem to be lacking any parts,"  he shook his head and looked out across the reeds.  "It left us with a boat broken like the one found from last year, and also I think signs on its face that maybe someone tried to make it let go of their leg with stabbing,"  he made an overhand motion, mimicing someone striking down at the snout.  "With this, to me, it seems there is a reasonable doubt that the creature which attacked us took one or more of the unburied who were lost last year.  Maybe all."  Scratching at a scar on his jawline, he looked to Garland.

"How often would such a monster need to feed?"

"What I do not understand, for whoever camped here, is why leave behind the tent to be found?  And the boat is even stranger.  Did they walk back to Lepidstadt, and with parts of bodies -- taken from the sick and frail -- not in the sack?" Steel plates clanked as he gave a mountainous shrug.  "I do not know."  Turning back to the island, Vadim waved over the closer of Dimka and Teg.

"We will find out who... that was.  If it was one from the missing ones, then we know the living were not all eaten.  If it was from the buried, we know maybe this is separate to the disappearances.  Maybe from after the town stopped coming here."  When the lad arrived, Vadim posed a question.

"Where do we find the best firm clay?  Here or back at Morast?" He was used to using small lumps to pad or fill where necessary, but the basic principle of an entire head seemed straightforward enough.  "I will need the tiny blade."

---

If possible Vadim will sculpt a head shape out of clay with basic features to fit the face onto, so that someone back in Morast can more easily identify who it belonged to previously (and nobody else has to handle the disembodied face directly).  Unless either of our guides recognises who it is first.

Taking 10 with Profession: Mortician for a total of 14, unless anyone wants to jump in with Aid Another on this admittedly rather morbid task.

“We have yet to find any evidence that Solomon was ever here.  A perpetrator that leaves masses of blood behind and likes knives and peeling faces off of victims.  It also seems certain the true perpetrator died or was wounded by the camen enough to stop the murders for now.”

"Could be. A likely way why everything was left, if someone got eaten.  But the Beast kept on, so the stories go.  So it got another master, another helper?  Or there was more than one raiding the boneyard?  Or the Beast carried someone out of the swamp?  Either way, the scalpel is nice, and maybe someone in town knows the maker.  Can't be too many as were made like that, with the raven," Shade says thoughtfully.

"We should question the beast about these findings but I see nothing here that says he was indeed involved. Carvings and scalpels don't seem to fit with the person were talking about. We can make certain leaps in logic but we should not jump to conclusions without evidence. " he replies, thinking on the various items to see if he comes up with any answers, stories, or even rumors.

“Exactly we have evidence and none of it points to our identified suspect. Indeed it points to a very different kind of evil.”

Hopefully some of our knowledge rolls help us; or going to the library...

It took perhaps an hour for our heroes to complete their investigation of the boneyard, gather and catalog the evidence, discuss their findings and plan both their strategy for the investigation and how they would present the evidence at the hearing the following morning.

Vadim crafted a reasonable facsimile of a human head over which he stretched the gruesome scrap of skin. Teg and Dimka were at once horrified and fascinated, but the scrap was too decayed for them to give any sort of positive identification.

Between our heroes they had a wealth of knowledge about the type of tool that the scalpel was, although nothing specific about the implement itself. The raven mark was most likely either the mark of the craftsman that fashioned it or a monogram requested by the client who it was crafted for. Vadim and Shade were well acquainted with the Surgeon's Flats, an upscale neighborhood in Lepidstadt's commercial district where delicate medical equipment of all kinds was manufactured. Surely the origins of the scalpel could be divined there.

At length everyone squeezed back into the boats and made for Morast.

They passed the site of the blood caiman attack on the way back, where work was still underway and likely would be long into the night. The normal process of cleaning such a beast would involve removing the skin from the head and retrieving the teeth and jaws, a step that had been skipped at our heroes request. The head had instead been removed whole and kept in a large burlap sack, ready to be taken back to Lepidstadt to be presented as evidence.

The remainder of the hide had been flensed and stacked, ready to be tanned, and thick bloody caiman steaks were being bundled into meat bags and hung in the swamp's mineral rich water to be kept fresh until they could be cooked, smoked, or dried. The liver, heart, and other edible offal had been portioned out as well. The stomach had been opened and inspected by Morast's master tanner but there were no clues to be found there, only the bones and hides of giant frogs, unwary deer, and other creatures that would be the typical diet of a swamp predator.

They arrived back in town to general acclaim, especially from those villagers who had been ferrying meat and other goods from the site and had seen the size of the caiman. Our heroes were invited to a caiman steak dinner that was already getting underway. The central firepit in the middle of the village was being stoked and the goodwives were chatting happily as they brought out their crockery and dishes in preparation for the communal meal.

Constantine made himself busy questioning villagers about the beast's appearance and, dishearteningly, heard only confirmation of their initial stories. The night had been dark and nobody had gotten a perfect look at the creature. But it had been huge, lumbering, and it was a stitched-together amalgamation of a number of different creatures. It was certainly a description that could fit the creature that he had dubbed Solomon.

Vadim had better luck when he showed his macabre taxidermy project to Elder Lazne. The Elder screwed up his face, made a ward against evil with his free hand, and spat a wad of weed juice into the dirt.

"Aye, I recognize that face. That's poor Dowd Fisher. Wicked creature. It deserves everythin' that's commin' to it."

---

You don't find any further clues in the blood caiman's stomach, but you can take the head back with you as an exhibit.

With what you remember you can make a regular Gather Information check using Knowledge: Local or Diplomacy to trace the scalpel's manufacturer once you get back to town. Like any Gather Info check it takes 1d4 hours.

Let me know if you'd like to stay in Morast or move back to Lepidstadt. It's about four in the afternoon at the moment.

After arriving back in the village Darcon left the questioning of the villagers to the others, and sat close to the fire, letting the heat drive away the fetid, clammy chill of the swamp. He did not have an appetite for the caiman steak, but rather chose to nibble on some of the side dishes, the ones without any meat.

His mind was running over the haphazard clues they had uncovered, but could make little sense of them at the moment. The only real lead they had was the razor and it's insignia, the raven mark, and that they could investigate back in Lepidstadt. There was also the matter of the potion used, which indicated to the mage at least that it's imbiber had worked during the night.

He discussed his theories with those of his companions who showed interest, and welcomed them to add their own to the mix. "Whatever the case, the villagers' description does appear to match the 'beast'. Our trip here has, in my opinion, made it more guilty than not, at least of the rampage here," Darcon said to the others in a low voice.

Lazne's words caught Darcon's attention and he said, "Wicked creature? Why do you say that, was Fisher not an old member of your community, his death a tragedy like the others?"

SCG took to the meal with his usual gusto and he made sure to settle the meal tab as well as pay for the assistance.

He showed any inquisitive youths how to hold and defend with a shield and some simple routines with a club;and one day they could use that to practice with a heavy mace or Morningstar..

Noting the time remaining he had the head in one sack and the skin brought to town also as the exhibit would be useful at trial.

He listened but did not gain say any of his comrades on their opinions or conclusions.

“Thank you for your hospitality, elder!”
He shakes the man’s hand
“Would you like to go into town with us?”


“I fear we have more questions than answers, but hopefully we will get to the truth.”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Mon 16 Dec 2019.

Our heroes enjoyed a hearty meal in the open air of Morast's village green. The caiman was a bit gamey but there was plenty of it, and of course they enjoyed the admiration that all strong fishermen commanded from the villagers. Darcon was plied with bowl after bowl of a thick onion stew that was both very spicy and very tasty.

Village youths alternated gawping at Constantine's demonstration and pestering Dimka for details about the fight, which he provided loudly to anyone within earshot.

Elder Lazne declined Constantine's offer, instead promising to meet him at the hearing the following day.

With the caiman's head and the other clues gleaned from the boneyard in tow the group piled back into the carriage. Their driver tucked away his paper with a grumble and set about hitching the horses back to their posts. He had greatly enjoyed a thick caiman steak, which he had eaten extremely rare.

The ride back to Lepidstadt was similarly swift and the carriage arrived just as the belltower on the courthouse was chiming six o'clock.

Jonah enjoys some of the food and stares longingly into the fire, more specifically at the people around the fire, "Ahhhh, I'd love to play a tune by the fire, enjoy the camaraderie of these fine folk. Earn a couple of gold for my troubles, and maybe find some company for the evening."

He is somewhat chastened by the looks the party gives him, and replies, "I, of course, mean some friends to enjoy drink into the wee hours of the morning." Then he mutters, hoping no one hears him, "Plus, it's a pretty scraggily-looking bunch for any other type of companioning. I'd be scrubbing mud out of me for months."

He stands up, "Regardless, it's my opinion that good food and a little hint of entertainment will loosen some tongues. I am going to try to get more information about the scalpel. Anyone is free to join. Maybe my tune will merely be the musical backdrop for someone else's precise questioning." he says with a flourish of embellishment.

OOC: 17:04, Today: Jonah Raische rolled 26 using 1d20+8.  Knowledge: Local.  Additionally, if all 1-4 hours are not required, Jonah will be happy to use Inspire Competence again for others.

On the way back SCG considering and weighing the evidence as known and collected among the folk of Morast and the evidence at the boneyard..

He mentally goes over each detail and another thought occurs to him.  Never had eyewitnesses under reported the size of a creature in fact it went the other way, had Solomon been 7 feet tall and they reported 10 it would be honest mistakes due to fear and a fastly beating heart; but to be 10 and reported only seven.....
His brow furrowed ....equally important was identifying who murdered the Morast folk


“We have done well my friends upon our return I will go see Kendra and find out how she is doing and if she has any ideas.  We can meet up at the jail?”

The carriage arrives as the bell tolls six; SCG intends to forego sleep until the trail ends
This message was last edited by the player at 01:15, Wed 18 Dec 2019.

All the new pieces just made the plot soupier and Vadim was content to finally dry off with a thick slice of the creature that tried to swallow their investigation, the turning of tables adding some extra relish to his meal.  He hung his shirt, coat and sash as near the fire as he dared, laid out the contents of his various belt pouches, and lurked as close to the flames as he could with out scorching his own skin;  he felt a chill in his bones after the past few hours that the looming and shady swamp did nothing to dispel.  The smell of Darcon's onion stew caught his interest, however, and Vadim rounded out his meal with a bowl.

When the chance arose the old digger had a quiet word to Lazne, urging the headman to keep all of the blood caiman's bones collected and intact.  Vadim knew that the University sometimes paid for the bodies or skeletons of unusual specimens, and so did other collectors;  he figured Morast wouldn't suffer for the extra income, if someone turned out to be interested.  "You folk have suffered great loss this past year;  is best to welcome all small gains as you can," he finished.

It was with some wry amusement that he watched the knight try to teach some of the youths, village kids eager to boast a few tricks they'd learned from a veritable hero.  Vadim wasn't above sharing a cup or two and being toasted by a few of the locals, and in turn was a mite toasted by the time he bundled himself into the carriage.  He chatted briefly with the coachman about the state of the roads and conferred with Shade and Jonah on which of the merchants in the Flats they should each drag away from their suppers.

Once all were agreed he settled deeper into the scent of steamed leather from his warm -- if not entirely dry -- coat.  In the tradition of shift-workers and military types the world over whistling snores began to escape his nostrils soon after they were on the road, although his hand seemed to fidget through his pockets even in his sleep.  Not long after he nodded off a book dropped to the floor of the carriage, dislodged from a pouch by his wandering hand.

---

If anyone picks up the book, it's a handwritten 'Blue Book' of Lepidstadt;  studying it for 1 hour will add "a +2 circumstance bonus on Knowledge (local), Bluff, and Diplomacy checks to gather or use information in that city."

Vadim will also be asking about what level of skill would be required to remove a face as was done to poor Dowd, and who might have that skill locally (let me know if that requires another check;  he's happy to drag people out of bed if it gets that late).

18:08, Today: Vadim Karamazov rolled 17 using 1d20+7.  Knowledge (Local).

Our heroes left the carriage stand to pursue their various investigations. Vadim bandied his grizzly trophy around the medical sections of the city, Jonah made for the craftsman's quarter, and Constantine returned to the inn to reconnoiter with Kendra.

Vadim unfortunately had only small success with his outings. The dismembered face was old and partially rotten, which made an analysis of the lacerations difficult. None of the professionals he consulted could tell him when the gruesome work had been done, whether the victim had been alive, or what the instrument of removal had been. The fact that the face had been removed whole and unbroken did point to some small amount of surgical expertise, but any experienced hunter or even a very careful amateur would be able to accomplish the same thing. And of course any number of reputable chiurgeons in the city would be able to remove skin in a like manner with little difficulty.

Jonah's search was significantly more fruitful. At first the shopkeeps and dealers that he queried weren't able to tell him much, but after an hour or two of dedicated canvasing he met a hawker who recognized the raven symbol carved into the handle of the scalpel. The raven was the crafter's mark of one Zbraslav Hora, a craftsman who operated out of a small workshop in the Anatomist's Alley.

Shade takes the time to clean herself off completely and rebandage her leg after the voyage back to the city, digging out clean robes so she looked more reputable than someone who'd been dragged through a swamp.

If Jonah shares his information, Shade is rather interested in speaking with Zbraslav Hora to see if he recognizes his wares and who he might have sold it to.  But she dislikes going into any confrontation unarmed if she can help it.  To that end, Shade will inquire around Anatomist's Alley to see what people know or think about the man.

Rumor and fact about Zbraslav Hora was relatively easy to come by for someone well acquainted with Lepidstadt's rumormill.

A half-elf of advancing years, Hora was a well to do craftsman and business man whose workshop produced a variety of fine medical equipment, particularly a huge variety of scalpels and other surgical knives. He was an upstanding member of the crafter's guild and a charter member of the Lepidstadt Fine Workman's association, which met twice yearly for a lavish banquet where they gave out awards for wood and metalworking, plastering, cutlery, and other skilled labor.

His workshop was a small shop in the Anatomist's Alley operated by himself and two apprentices. Most of his equipment was made to custom order, although he did have a reputation for fine finished goods which he sold via auction.

As soon as they arrived back in town, Darcon joined Jonah and Shade in investigating the lead on the scalpel. Though the mage wanted to join Constantine and meet Kendra as well and share notes, they were running out of time and in his opinion the scalpel was perhaps the strongest lead they had yet to find out what exactly had happened in the Morast boneyard.

Darcon knew the information could be crucial in determining whether it had indeed been the creature there that night, which in turn would determine its guilt; and if it was responsible for those murders then it made sense it was guilty of much of the other things it was accused of as well.

Though all evidence did appear to point towards the creature, its vehement denial earlier when they questioned it did cause Darcon to give it the benfit of the doubt for the time being, albeit a doubt that was decreasing as time went on.

When they reached Anatomist's Alley the mage paused to the side, trying to appear nonchalant as Shade went about gathering information. It would have been so much simpler had my spell been able to penetrate the creatures mind clearly...Darcon thought glumly. There had been ofcourse, far too much chaos and emotion in the creature for him to read much of anything, which made determining its guilt all the more difficult.

When Shade comes back from her rumor-gathering, she shares what she knows with Darcon.  "Hora's rich man, respected, got the nod from his peers, what with him founding that guild, like, and having those fancy banquets.  Respectable, is what I'd say.  But, being as he sells at auction, might not have made our blade custom.  Don't mean he hasn't, either.  Works with only a pair of apprentices, so if we wants a quiet word, can be done fair easy.  Got his address here, down Anatomist's Alley.  Say we see if he's in, or wait for the rest?  Time's running out fast," she says.

Nodding slowly as he listened to Shade, Darcon considered for a moment then replied, "Lets go and meet him. If he's unwilling to part with information we can always try to loosen his tongue with some coin. We are running out of time as is, the we will have to report for the trial soon."

"Coin or a few choice words.  Don't hope t'use the latter, but times are needful, Shade says, and follows Darcon to Hora's shop.

Our heroes broke off to pursue various branches of the investigation, moving through the city like hounds following trails of rumor and information like a blooded quarry. Vadim followed up on the scrap of flesh from the camp. Jonah tracked the scalpel to its origin. Shade and Darcon tracked Hora, the craftsman whose mark it bore.

As they tracked and traded and cajoled they exchanged brief words when their paths crossed, or sent Leptidstadt's street youths rushing around to the others with coppers and scribbled messages.

When at last they had a bearing on their quarry they reconnoitered at the inn where the newcommers to town had taken rooms. The Baying Ewe was a three story stone structure near Southdock, sturdy, clean, and fronted with a swinging sign showing a sheep howling at the moon. The ground floor was a large common room banked by a line of fireplaces one side and cozy booths on the other, and filled with scrubbed wooden tables and a well stocked bar.

It was on the other side of the city from the Lepidstadt graveyard and Vadim's shack, although only a few blocks from Shade's modest rooms in Mrs. Havisham's Boarding House for Ladies. The innkeeper moved hopefully towards Jonah's customary chair, tall so that the whole room could hear the performance, and looked rebuffed when he moved to join the others instead.

It was a bit after seven o'clock when everyone drifted in from their various investigations, and the first tendrils of Lepidstad's evening mist were beginning to creep through the streets as the sun sank below the horizon. As our heroes gathered they found Constantine deep in conversation with a serious faced young woman in a well cut but not ornate black mourning dress, their heads together over a pair of mugs and whispers flying between them. He quickly introduced her as Miss Kendra Lorrimor, a friend and colleague who had accompanied them from Ravengro, an expert on Ustalavian history and the occult and a recent attendee at Lepidstadt University.

"Very pleased to meet you." She said politely, standing to curtsy when she was introduced.

There were introductions all around and a round table of information as everyone shared what they had learned. The pulled in to discuss, and to plan their next move.

SCG had been deep in conversation with the young lady near the fire.  He was a step behind her as she greeted the others.

He was still trying to determine what if anything could appear as bits and pieces of other creatures.


“Any news?”
This message was last edited by the player at 00:07, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

Shade had been at the Baying Ewe before; twas a nice place and a good change of pace if she wanted different company or something different to eat or drink.  But she hadn't often been in such strange company. But these were strange days, after all.

As Constantine introduced the scholarly woman, Shade nodded at her as Nook blinked his orange eyes in greeting.  "An evening to you, Miss Lorrimor.  Shade is who I am, and Nook here is my friend."

When Constantine asks about what they've been up to, Shade turns to him.  "Found who made the tool, what he's about, and where his shop is.  We can go- go talk to him and see if he remembers who made the one we found," she says, deliberately not saying "blade" and keeping things ambiguous.  She has no idea if Miss Lorrimor is inclined to gossip or not, and she didn't need every detail of this investigation being chewed over with the whole university over breakfast.  And she'd meant to say that her and Dacon were going to "rattle Hora's tree", but didn't want to give the impression that she was going to do anything untoward.  Likely Shade wasn't, but she liked to keep the option open; some rats didn't respond to cheese, only to the threat of a cat's claws.

Darcon greeted Kendra with a nod and smile, glad to see she was doing well. He had ordered a cup of hot tea from the innkeeper and nursed in his hands, sipping it slowly as he joined the conversation.

"Yes, as Shade has said we have tracked the maker of the scalpel we found in the boneyard yesterday, and intend to pay him a visit as soon as possible, tonight if we can. Anyone who wishes to join us is welcome," he spoke softly.

Taking a sip he glanced at Kendra and asked her, "Have you discovered anything from the university? If possible, when you go there next try to determine what the beast was found to have been doing there when it was captured. I believe it is possible it may have been looking for someone, or something, perhaps a cure for its...condition."

“It is a frustrating puzzle at the moment: I have racked my brain and have only come up with a mongrelman as a potential suspect, not withstanding magical or otherwise disguised appearances.  Though I have not heard of them being evil.”

“YesI will visit the craftsman with you I have already been a customer so they should be welcome to more business.”

SCG does a double turn to Darcon
“Cure? Oh for rages or to keep himself from getting out of sorts?”
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Sun 05 Jan 2020.

Shade kept a sigh to herself as Darcon just laid out all of what she'd tried to keep vague in specific detail.  Perhaps he trusted this Miss Kendra Lorrimor person, but Shade didn't know her.  The girl hadn't been sworn to the Judge for the case.  Some folks were far too trusting.

As Sir Constantine and Darcon floated their new theory, Shade raised an eyebrow.

"Cure his condition of what?  Being made?  Being stitched together?  Being made bigger?  This is no natural thing!"

Kendra seemed trusting, even a bit doe eyed, and failed to pick up on Shade's subtle reticence. She seemed to have Darcon and Constantine's confidence though, and despite Shade's obfuscated eye rolling the assembled group was filled in on the investigation.

Darcon asked about the university and Kendra shook her head, a bit frustrated that she had missed an opportunity to learn more.

"The break-in is still the talk of the campus, but I'm sure you know more about it than I. I had my presentation and interview this morning, although that took place in the dean's office so I didn't get a look at the antiquities department. The whole area is off-limits until the trial is over.

I met the dean of students and the head of the history department, and Professor Chalest who was a good friend of my father's. I'll keep my eyes open tomorrow and see what else I can pick up. Maybe something about what the Beast was doing there. They have an impressive library of zoology and ecology as well, I'll find out everything that I can bout mongrelmen too.

You have a deposition tomorrow in the morning, correct? Let me know when you're finished, I'll make introductions at the university." She said.

"A cure for its condition? I believe Miss Shade is correct. Its rage may be unnatural, but could it be seeking other answers? I'll have to research the creature too. My, my, it looks like I'll be rather busy in the library in the coming days." She looked very excited by the prospect.

The door to the Ewe swung open as Vadim shouldered through with his "souvenir" under his arm, coming in late and squinting around as his eyes adjusted to the brighter light.  He knew of the place, but never had cause to favour it over the drinking-holes on his own side of the city.  A grim nod acknowledged the table;  Vadim made his way to the others via the bar, shuffling over with a three-quarter bottle of clear spirits and no glass. 

Using the spirit-bottle he made an awkward 'tip-of-the-hat' gesture when introduced to Kendra, then dumped his makeshift head on the table.

"Nothing," he grunted sullenly, and proceeded to get caught up on the conversation.  Taking great care as he listened, Vadim delicately peeled the flensed tissue free from the clay, rolling it as he went.  Once the whole piece was free he unstoppered the bottle and slipped the skinned face inside, where it partially unfurled and drifted in solution.

"I will come to this vendor," he nodded, cracking his scarred knuckles whilst still staring into the bottle.

"Why take the face from an old dead man?"

Of Kendra, Shade only nodded politely at her.  The girl at least seemed invested in the investigation, rather than wanting to run screaming in the other direction like a normal person, so perhaps she was just cracked enough to be helpful.

"Hope your studies come to fruit," Shade offered.  It seemed the girl was scholarly enough to enjoy the hunt of knowledge, so luck on her.

Shade regarded Vadim's peculiar display with a raised eyebrow.  This would earn them precisely no goodwill with the innkeeper, to be coming in with dead men's faces.

"Probably whoever it was wanted another face?  No one looks at an old man.  Except it didn't take?" she speculated. Damage was already done; might as well get some ideas out of it.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Tue 07 Jan 2020.

“Lastly and of great importance consider the identity or kind of creature the Morast murderer might be given only it’s careful and cruel nature, and what we know of it’s habits and victims.  It skinned the face off a man and may have done the same to each victim as pools of blood were found.  The height is closer to seven feet and a slighter build than our so called beast.  It likes kidnapping and sharp pointed knives, it is solitary and may have either been eaten by the Camin or been cunning enough to fake its own death.”

“I do not believe a mongrelman capable of such terror.”
This message was last edited by the player at 13:37, Tue 07 Jan 2020.

The discussion continued for some minutes, until the first serving made came past the booth to collect drink orders. She blanched, squinted at the rotting scrap pickling in Vadim's bottle of spirits, and then rushed off into the kitchen with a white face.

The innkeeper marched out directly after, squinted at the rotting scrap pickling in Vadim's bottle of spirits, and marched up to the table with a white face. He was distinctly unhappy to have such a gruesome clue displayed in his common room. It took a couple of minutes argument and a flash of Vadim's seal, but in the end no more was made of it than a gruff instruction to keep it hidden under the table.

It was around this time that the bulk of our heroes decided that their welcome may have worn the slightest bit thin, and they retired from the inn to continue their investigation of Hora's workshop.

They made their way through the foggy streets of Lepidstadt towards the crafter's district. Even the broad avenues were dark rivers of misty, indistinct shapes punctuated now and then by a lamplighter tending to the interspersed glows of streetlamps casting their paltry light over the cobblestones. The narrow maze of alleyways that made up the back streets of the city were un-lit, narrow, and twisting. Without Shade and Vadim to guide them the group surely would have been lost, but the two well versed Lepidstadtians were able to lead the way.

Hora's workshop was a tall, narrow structure in a featured spot near the center of the Anatomist's Alley. There was a plaque above the door with finely painted letters that declared it Zbraslav Hora's Medical Emporium. A two storied building, the ground floor featured wide windows displaying braces, trays, splints, and a huge variety of scalpels, razors, and knives. All of the windows on the ground floor were dark but steady candlelight could be seen from a rear window on one of the top floors.

The surrounding shops were closed as well, and the street was largely deserted except for the occasional figure hustling back on some late night errand.

Seeing clearly the wares in the window SCG assumes that they have arrived at the proper location.  He smiles widely and knocks loudly on the front door.

“I am sure a fine citizen will be more than willing to help us especially light of the dark deeds that were perhaps done with one of his grooming or surgical implements.”

Constantine's knock produced, at first, no reaction. After long minutes of hammering a bobbing light could be seen hoovering below the windowsill, winding its way through the interior of the workshop towards the front door.

The latch lifted and the door swung open to reveal a plump halfling woman in a white apron and a frilly maid's cap, carrying a candle. Her gaze played over the assembled group of adventurers with some surprise and she looked as if she was biting back some acerbic remark.

Instead she curtsy'd politely and said, "The Emporium is closed for the evening, good sirs. We will resume business in the morning."

Without further elaboration, or waiting for a reply, she began to swing the door shut in Constantine's face.

SCG had automatically taken a knee on the ladies doorstep as he had been raised by dwarves as a child and eye level was the most respectful...

46, Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 28 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy .

“Gracious lady! Please excuse our most poorly timed intrusion, but time is a luxury we do not still have.  If you would aid us I would be most grateful.”

He hangs his head awaiting her response
This message was last edited by the player at 20:55, Wed 08 Jan 2020.

A heavy hand slapped against the Emporium door well above Constantine's head, perhaps a little harder than was strictly necessary;  more than enough to prevent further closure, but not quite enough to push it back upon the maid -- definitively communicating that the choice on whether the portal opened or closed no longer belonged to the woman behind it.

"Zbraslav Hora is wanted on Court business," Vadim growled down at the halfling.  Her attitude wasn't helping his mood any.
 Traipsing all over the quarter trying to get an expert opinion on Dowd Fisher's face had proven fruitless, and then the uptight innkeep had meant Vadim had to leave the warmth of the Ewe almost as soon as he'd sat down.  This was why he stuck to the other side of town, when he had a choice.

Vadim opened his mouth as if to say something more but held his peace, tapping his tattooed fingertips against the wood as he waited.

"We have authority from the courts.  Show 'em the badge, Vadim," Shade says.  Behind the two larger men, she looks particularly small, but her and Nook stare at the woman with peculiar intensity, hands weaving symbols in the air.

OOC: 21:36, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 13 using 1d20+7.  Intimidate check.

Darcon stood at the rear of the group, watching the proceedings and hoping the halfling woman wouldn't end up raising a hue and cry about strangers trying to burst into her shop late at night.

"Good lady, we require some information that could be of utmost importance in the upcoming trial of the beast," he said helpfully.

The winning smile that was beginning to form on the plump maid's face vanished into a scowl that played over Vadim and Shade in equal measure. Still, she shot a considering look at Constantine and then motioned for the group to follow her into the workshop.

"Wait here, if you please." She said, indicating the front of the shop where the fine medical supplies were on display.

Hora's stock in trade was scalpels and blades, but he also had a variety of clamps, spreaders, and basins on display as well. He was clearly a metalworker, only a few of the offered goods had leather or wooden components.

"Mister Hora will see you now." Came the small announcement from the end of the room.

The maid led them up the stairs, they didn't get a chance to glance into the workshop area at the back of the building, and into a sitting room on the second floor. The decor was books and diagrams, very clearly the space of an engineer, and Zbraslav Hora set aside his newspaper and rose from a plush armchair as his unexpected guests entered.

He was an elderly man, easy to take for human but for the pointed tips of his ears, and wearing a dark velvet smoking jacket and a tasseled night cap. Clearly a man at his ease for the evening, although not dressed for bed. Across from him sat a handsome woman with a lined face and kindly eyes, her gray hair pulled up into a comfortable, loose bun. She did not rise, but nodded politely. The glittering wedding band on her finger matched his.

"Thank you. Tea, I think." He said to the maid, who curtseyd and moved out.

"What brings you to my home at this late hour?" He turned the question to our heroes, his demeanor becoming stony. Clearly he did not appreciate the intrusion on his privacy.

“Please excuse our intrusion, we were delayed in Morast by an overgrown Camine.  There was a campsite at the boneyard and the only clue we found was an instrument of healing that had been put to foul use.”

Who ever has the scalpel can let the man inspect it.

Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 15 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy
This message was last edited by the player at 13:50, Fri 10 Jan 2020.

Constantine passed over the scalpel to Hora, who walked it over to a nearby desk to examine it under a large crystal lens attached to a hinged arm.

"It's certainly one of mine." He said, running a thumb over the inscribed crest and turning the blade this way and that.

"Let's see if...yes. Look here." He said, inviting the others over and showing them a small set of numerals inscribed into the handle, just above the raven mark.

"Stay here for a moment." He instructed, and left the study. He could be heard moving about in the workshop below.

He was only gone for a moment or two but his wife, a pleasant woman named Yvania, took up the host's duties to make small talk and put her guests at ease. The maid arrived with tea just as Zbraslav returned with a large leather bound ledger. It was one of several that he kept detailing his sales, and he laid it out on the desk.

He quickly flipped to the correct page, ran a finger down to the correct entry, double checked the number inscribed on the scalpel,  and tapped it decisively.

"This was part of a set. Assorted scalpels, two medical clamps, and a bone saw. The set was sold to one Vladka Kostel. She's a purchaser for one of the auction houses in the city..." He scratched a finger over his chin, screwing up his face in thought.

"The Stonesharpe Brother's. Or Ledov's. Maybe the Workman's Exchange up on East High St. I can't remember precisely. At any rate, it's very likely that the doctor who ultimately used this tool bought it from one of those auction houses."

He handed the razor sharp blade back to Constantine.

Shade had accepted a cup of tea from Yvania with murmured thanks, but hadn't drunk yet, letting the hot tea warm her hands.

"'Tis important to remember clear where it went. We wouldn't be knocking at this late hour for any idle thing.  Someone put that tool to dire use.  Vile use, even," Shade says to Hora.

SCG takes the sharp instrument and looks over the mans shoulder...

“What was that sale date?  The details are often of great importance.”

He pauses
“Where might we seek the person Vladka Kostel, and how would we recognize him or her?”
This message was last edited by the player at 23:00, Fri 10 Jan 2020.

Darcon sipped his tea slowly, his mind racing as he pondered the information. It was obvious they needed to track down this Vladka and find out which auction house she belonged to and who she sold the scalpel set to.

The mage wanted to get to it right away but waited to see if Hora would tell Constantine where to find Vladka.

Darcon could feel they were getting close to finding some answers; if they tracked down whoever had bought the set, that person would likely still have the remainder of the instruments from the set, along with Hora's insignia, giving them evidence they belonged to the same person who had been present in the boneyard that fateful night.

Ofcourse, this assumed whoever it was had been up to something nefarious linked to the murders and the beast, otherwise they were simply wasting their time.

"This sale was on Gozran 18th, 4708." Hora answered Constantine, naming a date just shy of three years ago.

Hora flipped back and forth in the ledger, examining the line items one by one and shaking his head each time.

"No...no...no...Hmmm. I know that Vladka has purchased from us often. See here, here, and here. I have only her name listed in the ledger though, not her employer's." He said to Shade.

"I know that she keeps rooms here in the city, although I have never called on her myself. She's human, yea high, with red hair to the shoulder and a green silk scarf with a white embroidered swan. You can probably find her in the merchant's district during business hours."

---

I've rolled Knowledge: Local checks on your behalf, unfortunately none of you is acquainted with Vladka Kostel already. You can do a gather information check in 1d4 hours with a DC25 diplomacy check or a DC20 Knowledge: Local check to find her residence and employer. If you make that check now you'll take a -4 since you'll be waking people up in the middle of the night and they'll be less willing to talk to you.

SCG nods his head and smiles
“Thank you for your confirmation it seems we have a very late night ahead of us indeed.  Perhaps she is a person who is up at this hour.”

SCG heads for the door...draining a second cup of tea in the process
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
This message was last edited by the player at 14:10, Tue 14 Jan 2020.

Hora nodded, gladder to see them gone than to have helped with the investigation, although his wife smiled and bid them a fond farewell.

He also copied out a sheet of parchment with the details of the transaction, should they require the information at a later date.

---

Let me know where you're heading and what you're doing. Go ahead and make the check if you want to Gather Information, and be sure to roll a 1d4 time in hours as well. You can try as many times as you'd like, but remember that you're taking -4. It's 8:00 at the moment. We'll move along with the investigation, or if you'd like to pick up tomorrow we'll move the day along.

If you stay up all night or most of the night you'll be fatigued the following day.

SCG heads for the noise of a late night pub hoping to find the lady or directions to her

today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 27 using 1d20+8.  Gather information (diplomacy).   Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 2 using 1d4.  Hours.

“We can keep going for awhile, as we race the cock’s crow.  If anyone is tired you can rest and the rest of us can continue.  I can use a keep watch spell once we return to our quarters for the night; though I do not know how much it may help.”


Gather info result is a 23 (forgot to subtract the 4 point penalty)
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Tue 14 Jan 2020.

During the interview with Hora Vadim had contented himself with looming in the background, politely greeting the merchant and his wife but declining tea or conversation.  When his role as 'stern but aloof marshal' had been played out he'd tipped his nonexistent hat and departed with the rest, heavy tread causing the stairs to creak on his way back down to street level.

Not really much of a one to press the flesh (of the living, at least) Vadim took a pint and a table, pulling out a few chairs as an invitation for the others to join.  Jonah and Shade in particular he motioned over, setting a worn journal on the table and thumbing through some pages.  A chipped, yellowing fingernail tapped on one side of a hand-drawn map of the merchant quarter.

"Better if we divide up territory and make a plan, yes?"  He looks to the others, with half an eye to making sure Sir Constantine isn't getting mixed up with the wrong set of local colour.  "Or do we go as one group?"

Shade sets the tea down, mostly untouched but for a few small sips.  "Our thanks for aiding us," she says, giving them a small nod.

Seeing Vadim at the book, she'll look it over.  "Oh ho, don't see those often in Lonwood!  Let me take a look too, and then I can go rattle some trees.  Luckily those I'm going to ask are usually waking at this hour, not sleeping," she says with a grin.

OOC: I'll take the hour to study, and then I shall get:
21:30, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 16 using 1d20+12.  Knowledge (local) check.

Constantine and Vadim moved through the late night taverns around the docks, never closed even in the dead of night. Rollicking common rooms sent light and music and the sounds of conversation out into the misty streets.

Shade pursued her own channels, but found little success.

Vadim and Constantine were luckier.

While the seedy taverns near the docks stayed open until all hours of the morning, the well-to-do eateries and taverns in the merchant district were starting to wind down their custom as the hour grew later. There were still plenty of customers though, even here most establishments would keep their doors open until midnight.

They asked around until a tanner, just closing his shop after a late project kept him at work, was happy to provide them with information on Vladka Kostel. He spoke glowingly of her, and the tipsier he got the more it became clear that his interest was more than professional.

Vladka Kostel worked as a purchasing agent for Ledov's Chiurgery Merchants and kept an office in their small auction house in the merchant district. It was only a block or so from the tavern and so the two gumshoes took a look at it, but found it empty and locked for the evening.

Instead they rendezvoused with the others and then, together, made their way to the upscale boarding house where Kostel kept rooms.

There was a doorman who yielded to Vadim's seal of authority, and then they were standing in the corridor outside her chambers.

---

Constantine, 23 isn't quite enough, but with Vadim's Aid Another you manage to track down Kostel's lodgings and employer.

“We hast done well in this finding our major clue; yet I fear we are more steps removed from a conclusion.  I do not doubt we will find the owner of the contraptions.”

Looking at his compatriots he knocks on yet another door....
This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Thu 16 Jan 2020.

Shade had been frustrated when no one knew where their quarry was (she had been certain that Jami Blade would at least know of a knife dealer, but apparently it was too rich for his blood), but it seems her companions had managed to find her.

Waiting with Sir Constantine for Vladka Kostel to open the door, Shade keeps her powers close to her; she has ways of disabling the woman, should she suddenly become hostile, or making her talk as if they were her best friend.  Neither of them were the sort of thing she wanted to advertise in advance, but you never knew what a person would do when caught red-handed in wrongdoing.  Better to be prepared.

The door opened a crack and a startled eye peeped out at the party.

"What do you want?" The woman inside asked suspiciously.

She quirked an eyebrow at the mention of the investigation and opened her door the rest of the way. She certainly matched Hora's description. Short, thin, with red hair pulled back in a casual braid. She wasn't wearing her scarf at the moment, but it could be seen hanging from a peg on her coat rack.

"I suppose you'd better come inside."

Her sitting room was subtly but finely appointed, she was a woman of modest means but fine taste. She didn't invite our heroes to sit and didn't take a seat herself, instead folding her arms forbiddingly and tapping a foot as she waited for them to state their case.

“Pardon our intrusion.”


“It is this item; crafted by Zbraslav Hora and sold through you as part of a set. Assorted scalpels, two medical clamps, and a bone saw. The set was sold...”

SCG checks his notes....
“ ....on Gozran 18th, 4708”

He smiles at the lady
day: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy


“We are hoping to track it to it’s last owner.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:57, Thu 16 Jan 2020.

Vladka examined both the scalpel and the bill of sale brusquely, without touching them.

"We do a goodly amount of business with the craftsmen of Anatomist Alley, and with Master Hora in particular. Surely you don't expect me to remember each transaction? This is dated over two years ago." She said, her tone a professional woman struggling to remain polite.

"We do keep a record of all auctions. If you would like, you can schedule an appointment at my office and we can go over the records. At a more reasonable hour." She said.

"If we wanted the information at a reasonable hour, Madam Kostel, we would have come then. This is pertaining to the case of the Beast, and getting proper justice for all involved. There is little time before the trial, and this is something we need now.  There's papers and badges from the Judge if that is needful for you to see to help the city," Shade says, not looking impressed by Kostel, and indeed looking somewhat suspicious of her, as if Kostel might be involved and be next on the trial list if she withheld her knowledge...

OOC: 12:01, Today: Shade of Lonwood rolled 19 using 1d20+11.  Bluff check.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:02, Fri 17 Jan 2020.

As they left Hora's house and the others departed to make their own investigations,  Darcon decided there were enough of them following this particular lead. Bidding them the best of luck he made his way back to the Inn, intending to await the results of the party's investigation and get some rest for what promised to be a big day ahead.

---

ooc: Darcon will head back to the inn to get some rest, so as not to be fatigued and also to refresh his spell slots

“No doubt master Darcon had some ancient tome to pour over.  Perhaps he will identify our murderer from myth legend and acana.”

Good plan for spellcasters to get proper rest.....

Darcon led the small group who saw the value in a good night's sleep back to the inn, while Constantine and Shade stayed with those willing to risk fatigue to gather clues before the all-important deposition the following morning.

Their investigation continued far into the night, and it was a bleary eyed but determined group that joined Darcon and Kendra for breakfast at the inn.

---

They shared what they had learned as they ate, hastily shoveling down eggs and sausages, conversation flying thick as they cataloged the clues from the previous night's investigation and planned their schedule for the day ahead.

It was sixth bell just as they were finishing with breakfast, which gave them four hours to investigate and catalog their evidence before the deposition at ten o'clock.

---

It's 6:00 at the beginning of the day, the deposition where you will present the evidence that you have gathered on the Morast affair is scheduled for 10:00 at the courthouse.

You are familiar enough with Lepidstadt jurisprudence to know that any evidence submitted at the deposition can be used in the trial and will receive a +2 bonus to checks at that time. Don't worry too much about what that means mechanically right now, just know that if you submit evidence on time it's good and will help you later.

You are welcome to continue your investigation even after the deposition, extraordinary evidence and major discoveries can be submitted at any time, although evidence deposed late won't receive a bonus when presented.

Darcon awoke early, before the sun had begun to crack over the horizon. Meditating for a bit he studied his spellbook, refreshing the arcane geometries that made up words & patterns to the spells he formed in both his mind as well by his voice and hands.

Thereafter he refreshed himself and headed down to meet Kendra & the others at the breakfast table. "Lady Kendra, good morning to you," he said with a smile, pleased as ever to see her well. "Did you discover anything of import that might help with the trial today?"

Turning to look at the others Darcon could see Constantine & Shade they did not get much sleep last night. Hopefully that meant some good news. "Did you find out who the scalpel was sold to, and why they wanted it?" The mage queried, eager for the answers to perhaps their only solid clue as to what happened down in the village.

Kendra was alert at breakfast but had dark circles starting to form under her eyes, she had clearly been up late the previous night.

"I haven't had a chance to study at the library, but I looked for everything that I could find on the Beast in my fathers books. There's lots of conflicting information.

Given the beast's appearance and...construction...it is clearly not a natural creature. Everything points to it being a construct of some sort, a flesh golem matches its description most closely." She said, shuddering at the hideous thought.

"But one thing is puzzling. Golems of that nature are simple automatons, not possessed with intelligence or free will. The Beast...Solomon," She said, nodding to Constantine, "can think, speak, make decisions. That shouldn't be possible." She got that far away look that said she was thinking hard about something.

"I'll pop back into the library today and see what I can find out. Oh! And if you go to visit the Beast I would love to come along. I'd love to meet...him."

Shade and Constantine chimed in with the results of their investigation. They had tracked the scalpel from its manufacturer, Zbraslva Hora, to the distributor, Ledov's Chiurgery Merchant's purchasing agent Vladka Kostel, to the shop that had sold it, Radniche's Medical Supplies. They summed up the rest of their investigation as well.

---

You have about four hours before the deposition. Feel free to take the investigation any direction that you'd like, if you would like to do research at the University to make or re-try knowledge checks you'll get +2, or +5 if Kendra is also assisting. Because of the well organized and categorized nature of the library research checks made there take 1d4 hours.

SCG is thoughtful as he finally pronounces
“It is as I first discerned the spark of life lives within the mighty creation; for that reason alone we strive to prove the falseness of the claims, and save his life!”

He pats the camine head
“I believe we have enough evidence to disprove the first charge, but this all must be entered into evidence and the sooner the better.”

He looks at the tiredness of all gathered....waiting to see who might take rest and who is planning to continue on
This message was last edited by the player at 19:57, Fri 07 Feb 2020.

After meeting up at the inn once they'd found a carriage back, Shade was definitely feeling worse for the long night.  She summarized what they'd found for everyone else.  "...So our next step in 'who has the blades' would be the Chymist Works, if we have enough time before court starts.  The last man of our chain was hiding something, though we couldn't press it out of him and I didn't want to use extreme measures yet.  I have a thought, though.  He's a medical man, got lots of samples and whatnot.  Bodies are needed for study, for students, for universities, classes, scholars, research.  Lots of bodies.  And they aren't always available as fast as some want them.  Wonder if our man makes deals with resurrection men; body-snatchers, you know?  It's a crime, but it pays well if you have the stomach, and really no one is getting hurt, right?  Wonder if all that in Morast was planned, as in someone wanted bodies.  Or else someone was already after them in their boneyard and ended up finding the damaged Beast a better subject for study.  Something to consider," Shade says, one hand on Nook, the other hand on a mug of some hot tea.

Darcon listened to Shade and Constantine's updates with interest, fingers steepled under his chin as he thought. "It does seem strange that such a person, or persons, either the last man you interrogated or the one who was last in possession of the scalpel would converge in the boneyard at the same time the beast was there. Not to mention the nature of their purported work, as you theorize, does appear to coincide with the very nature of the beast."

Shaking his head the mage rubbed his eyes and glanced at Kendra with a small smile. "Indeed, an astute observation, I too thought it appeared to be a golem of sorts, but it is too self aware to be one, at least any golem I have heard of. I surmise it could either be a victim of some curse, an accident by ingesting some type of potion as certain alchemists are wont to do, a spell of transmutation made permanent, or something entirely new."

Sighing as he had more or less admitted the creature could be anything really, Darcon looked at Shade and Constantine and added, "The scalpel needs to be tracked. Thereafter perhaps we can revisit your last lead; I can try to delve into his mind to determine what he did not tell you. But I do not believe we have time before the trial starts, if I am not mistaken."

“Some you say fits the chymists may indeed be our grave robbers; but we have not placed Solomon into the place by any physical evidence, a doppelgänger perhaps, but no physical evidence points to him.  Instead the pattern is much more complex and sinister.”

“On a related note, we have several places to visit and a carriage and two horses could get us back and forth.  I spent a substantial sum on this and it will require us all agree upon the need.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:21, Sat 08 Feb 2020.

Hunched protectively over the plateful of leftovers he had managed to hoard as the table was being cleared, Vadim nodded along to indicate that he was paying attention;  Sir Constantine and Shade had provided all of the detail he would have thought to give.  He had little to add to their recounting of the night, though he offered his mind or recollection when asked.

"How do you tell how old it is, this Beast?  Cut it open and count the rings?" he asked around a mouthful of sausage.  "And how long does it take to make such a thing, if made it was?  If we knew this we might be able to look for corpse trade at the time."  Wiping his chin he followed up with a doubled-up slice of toast.

"Lazne will not care if it was the same Beast;  he saw a beast then, he sees a beast now, he will think it is the same.  No need to lie, even if it is not true."  Salt snowed down on his plate, coating the hills of his remaining eggs.

"If all goes poorly today, we may have no need to rush elsewhere.  Maybe no need for a carriage."  Vadim stabbed a yolk, letting it ooze for a heartbeat before thrusting a crust into its centre.  "I can go to the chymic works if you are not needing me at the University books, and I am better with standing than talking in the courtroom.  You will not miss me if I am late to the start, I think.  I will help carry the head to Kaple when I finish."

found it!!!!


30 years

“Nay it is said to have been in the area for 30 years; and blamed for 30 years of every evil, yet I am convinced there is not enough evidence to connect to the Morast murders; in fact enough evidence points to a very different kind of perpetrator;it would be unacceptable and unjust to not seek those answers and lazily convict Solomon”.

“An academic may have expertise in constructs and golems that should be brought to the court to testify or certify what he is or is not.”
This message was last edited by the player at 15:00, Sun 09 Feb 2020.

Kendra nodded, her eyes shining with the anticipation of a fresh mystery to pursue. She herself took tea, but she motioned for a server to bring a carafe of fragrant black coffee from exotic Qadria.

"The deposition is in four hours. Plenty of time to interview the Beast, do some research at the University, or investigate this chymic works. Are we dividing our efforts? If we aren't planning to be present at the hearing we should at least leave the evidence that we have collected so far with barrister Kaple, so that he can present it at the deposition.

Which of us will be pursuing which investigations?"

“I would like to submit the evidence thus far collected along with descriptions of each item submitted and then on to the chymical lair.  I know I need accompanying since my shalechanger hypothesis is taking form and I have no way of knowing if I were face to face with one.  Even the man last night could have been the very thing we might well be seeking.  And it seems clear enough the threads we pull upon are running through many unrelated events.”...

SCG pauses and rubs his temples
“I doubt not four hours of sleep might be a choice some can make.  I can remove fatigue but the cost is my lay on hands magical healing will also be consumed and we know not what we may face this day.”

Tempted to take an hour of time to take Abadar's Truthtelling instead to replace keep watch........

A large breakfast and extra coffee take the edge off the long night
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Mon 10 Feb 2020.

"We may need to divide out efforts.  Now that we know names and faces and even some places, y'can talk to the Beast some more and see if you can winkle any more out of him.  I'd like to go to the chemyst works and see what's there.  And since we have more guesses, and you're the book-savvy one, I'll leave the research to you, Kendra," Shade says, taking a second cup of strong tea.  "I can help with paying for a carriage for now.  There's some folks we might even be able to pay to ferry us about at night, if we arrange it in advance" she adds.

Shade and Constantine made short work of their breakfasts, wolfed down after a grueling night on their feet. But they didn't have much time to spare for rest, and after a round of goodbyes and Kendra's promise to find out everything she could about the Beast they made their way from the inn to the courthouse with a brief stop to arrange transportation in between.

They found barrister Kaple in his office poring over the briefs and looking as frayed as ever.

"You're b-back!" He said, jumping up and sending a sheaf of papers fluttering to the floor from his lap.

He quickly scooped them back up and then stood to hastily re-adjust his robe.

"Just in time. The judges are meeting now, and the Morast deposition is at ten. The deposition for the next set of murders, He-Hergstag, is tomorrow, so we have the day to investigate that as well. What have you found so far?"

Our heroes quickly filled in the nervous barrister on their investigations from the previous night, and the clues that they were still following up on. Kaple nodded and carefully added each of the items to the court record. The empty vial of darkvision extract, the scalpel and accompanying paperwork, the statement regarding the disturbed graves at the Morast Boneyard, and the most gruesome piece, the flayed face. He also arranged for court agents to retrieve the massive blood caiman head and carry it to the courthouse.

"Excellent, excellent. I'll prepare to present these at the deposition. It sounds like you have more investigation to do concerning the scalpel. Return when you've found out all you can and we'll go over the next case, the murders at Hergstag."

---

Kaple is entering five new pieces of evidence, the scalpel, the extract, the face, the blood caiman head, and the disturbed graves and campsite. Let me know if there's other evidence that you would like to enter. You can still take the items themselves with you if you want to research them or show them to witnesses, but you'll need to bring them to both the deposition and ultimately the trial itself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:35, Mon 10 Feb 2020.

The paper trail on the scalpel; the hide of the camin; the too small bloody apron; assorted other non-description knives

“The men who sprang the trap described a patchwork beast of seven feet tall and that it sustained an injury to its side, and the camine attack; they also reported blood.”

SCG looks thoughtful
“The wounds on the camine face those of a small blade match the razor and other knives; whatever it caught tried to blind it.  Also can you make a motion to not call the defendant a beast?.”


“I believe we have enough to exclude Solomon from this crime.  Do we need to start the next investigation in Herstag? Or at least make arrangements for transport there as soon as the trial day is over.  ”

Darcon did not have much luck interviewing the beast in their last encounter, so he excused himself from Kendra's side and joined up with the others, intent on investigating the Chymist Works along with them, where his spells and mind might be of more use.

"Perhaps you can research anything on the nature of the creature and anything similar in shape and size; there could be records of other such individuals which might give us a lead as to what it actually is?" he mused to Kendra before leaving with the others.

"We have enough time to investigate the Works and then make for the Hearing; I believe at least one of us should be there to see how the trial begins to unfold, and if our evidence makes a difference," he remarked to his companions as they entered the evidence at Barrister Kaple's office.

"Yes, yes..." Kaple said, jotting in his notes as Constantine laid out the evidence. "...yes, I'll be able to present this at the deposition. Of c-course if you could appear in person to present your f-findings first hand it would only add t-t-to the weight of our case."

With Kendra's promise to research Solomon's construction and origins the way was paved to head to the chemical factory. Before the investigators left his office barrister Kaple nodded to Constantine's question and dug through his files for the briefs on the Hergstag affair.

"We can discuss them at length after t-the hearing." He said as he handed them over.

"Good luck."

With the files in hand to peruse at their leisure our heroes made their way from the courthouse.

---

A short cab ride later the group found themselves outside Lepidstadt's city limits bouncing through the countryside. The buildings became farther apart, interspersed with farm land or pasture, and about a fifteen minute ride outside the city they came upon the factory.

It was an ugly, un-painted brick building with two stories and a tower topped by a crooked lightning rod. Sturdy and utilitarian in its construction, there was little to appreciate about the blocky architecture. A tall iron chimney belched out yellowish clouds of smoke and the acrid chemical smell was strong even from the laneway. Large leaded windows interspersed its outer walls, either grimed or painted over and impossible to see through. The gate was big enough for a wagon to pass through and featured a smaller inset door as well. Above this portal a large, smartly painted sign proclaimed it Vorkstag and Grine, Chymic Works.

@the court
“Thank you barrister Kapple.  I shall try my best to return to offer testimony to the court.  Hopefully we will also bring new evidence to be entered.”

@along the way
“This next one is most disturbing with children turned to ghosts.  We should stop for more potions of sanctify corpse so the same fate does not befall us as well.”
SCG wonders how creating ghosts would be something a golem could do.. x


@the Chymical Works
“Straight up to the gate, so they can let us in!”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:04, Wed 12 Feb 2020.

Constantine's calls brought no response for long minutes, and then a shuffling and scraping sound like furniture being moved could be heard behind the large double doors. A slot in the inset door slid open to reveal a face behind a pair of protective goggles made of darkened glass over a long, pale nose. This odd figure cast his gaze over the paladin, the carriage, and his companions.

"Yeah, wotcher want?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:52, Wed 12 Feb 2020.

SCG stands up
“I am Sir Constantine GodAlming, in employ of the honorable courts seeking to acquire testimony of Master Vorkstag, and the collection of relevant evidence in our current investigations.”

“Please open the gate and announce our presence.”

Today: Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Wed 12 Feb 2020.

"What is this 'ankheg bile' used for?" Having little to add himself at the barrister's, Vadim kept quiet at Kaple's outside of the occasional yawn and his usual fidgeting.  In the carriage Vadim took a turn at looking through the case notes they'd collected, holding his reading glasses in place against the jostling of the carriage.

"And why is the chymic works buying a bone saw?  What are they making here?"

Realising that they had arrived he carefully folded his spectacles and returned them to a pocket wrapped in the faded kerchief.

"So, we are here.  Yes, let us in." Easing out of the carriage he handed back the papers and looked about the yard, presenting his seal to the goggles in their peep-hole..

Shade, similarly tired as they traveled to the Chymic works, had only flippant answers.  "Crime.  Probably disposing of bodies.  Or cleaning the skeletons for study.  Or making undead for a necromancer.  One of those things."

As Constantine greeted the door dragon, Shade just glared at the set of eyes behind the opening with a basilisk stare.  She was short on tact at this point, and with more investigation left for them, was not a pleased witch.

Although not an alchemical expert himself, his vast general knowledge of natural philosophy came through and Darcon informed Vadim that ankheg bile was a likely ingredient in several formulations of alchemist's acid, a valuable commodity commonly produced by chemical works like Vorkstag and Grine's.

"Testimony? Investigations? Wait here." The slot slid shut with a snap and there was a rapid fire pitter patter of feet as the little figure walked across the courtyard.

After a few minutes the steps pattered back and the slot slid open again. Again two dark goggles peered out.

"Vorkstag busy. Critical stage in bleach production. Could release dangerous fumes if not supervised. No distractions. Come back tomorrow."

“No worries we promise not to disturb the process or create distractions and don’t trouble yourself about the gate my good man.  We will just climb over it.  It has been too long since I got to climb over a wall and down the other side.”

SCG smiles
“Ready to climb in? Oh and who has the grappling hook?”

Shade mutters in a low voice.  "I have a way to get us in and get someone talking, but I doubt we'll be able to admit it at the trial. Don't ask what it is for now, as it might be something to use in an emergency.  But I'm certain they're destroying things in there now.  Toss around the badge a bit more, and I can offer them a carrot to your stick."

She waits for Vadim or Constantine to give them some more grief (or silver words), and then will add to the goggles beyond the gate., "Now, we can certainly offer some aid to smooth the worries of a business that's engaged in their lawful trade.  I have talents in the healing arts; if any of your workers are having any trifling troubles, I can set them right for you so they can finish their work with even more efficiency.  This won't take more than an hour of your time, and your workers won't even have to stop while I tend them."

"Radniche already talked to us,"  Vadim waved some of the paperwork from the Hergstag case at the goggles, "You go ask busy Vorkstag how much money he will lose and how dangerous it will get if we have to break down door and take him in to the Courthouse.  Who will supervise fumes then?"  He taps the official seal for emphasis.

"Maybe Vorkstag finds an apprentice for ten minutes.  Maybe you can watch these chemicals for him."

"Issue liability. Not trained in floor safety procedures. Could damage equipment, cause spill, get hurt, get workers hurt. Worker safety too important to us. Can't come in. You come in, you trespassing. You trespass, I set dog on you.

Better you stay outside, yes, yes?" The pale little figure said to Constantine.

He swung his gaze to Shade.

"Hmmm. Might be beneficial, yes? Still not safety certified. Still can't come in. Still in the middle of production. But can send workers to you when done. Free, yes, yes? No charge? Where your clinic?"

He shifted behind the slot when Vadim spoke, looking like he was hopping from foot to foot.

"Radniche?" He snorted. "Radniche a liar. He charge fifty gold for supplies, then write sixty on invoice. Sells saltpeter cut with charcoal. Not trustworthy."

He paused and seemed to be considering.

"Alembic pressure stable in an hour or two. After that rendering process not require so much supervision. We make appointment, yes, yes? Come to station house at ninth bell for interview, yes, yes?"

"You do not want to do that to your dog," Vadim said with a meaningful look at the face behind the slot.

"I didn't much like Radniche either." The older man's craggy brow furrowed in a frown, "I understand you have work to do.  I am a working man, I know work comes first.  But I do not think we have time to wait an hour or two for answers."  Seeming uncertain, Vadim looked to the others.

"How long would it take to go to the Judge for a warrant?  I am thinking that she will not be pleased at the intrusion so early." He raised his voice for the benefit of the goggle-wearing gatekeeper, "If we wait, we are waiting here.  Maybe we have a look around outside in the mean time."

“What if only one of us went inside, would that not be safer?  The rest of us can wait outside the factory itself.”

Sir Constantine Godalming rolled 14 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy

“Perhaps the girl as she is not very disruptive?”


SCG steps down and checks on the horses.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:52, Sun 16 Feb 2020.

Darcon tapped his staff impatiently on the cobbles and waited for the small pale figure to respond to Constantine.

Just in case it did not allow them in still, the mage began preparing a simple spell in his minds eye that might be able to encourage the creature to let them in.

---

Shade nods to Darcon; he had indicated he had skill in easing the minds of the reluctant as well, and she wanted to keep her spells in reserve.  If she was to be up again researching another of the Beast's crimes, her options were going to be limited, and the wizard had had a full night's rest.

The little man nodded.

"Yes, yes. You wait outside. Very good. Vorkstag come to guard house to give statement in an hour or two." His long nose bobbed as he nodded.

He shook his head at Constantine's suggestion.

"Little girl can't come in. Little girl not certified on proper safety and chemical handling protocols. Little girl, wait outside with the others."

He seemed on the verge of shutting the sliding hatch when Darcon reached out with his mystical energies to lay a gentle finger on the gatekeeper's mind.

The effect was instant, and not at all positive. As Darcon spoke the mystical words and performed the proper gestures to awaken the arcane power the watcher's eyes snapped to him and he began to squeal.

"Infamy! Assault! Coercion! My mind a fortress! Your tricks not work on me!" He slammed the slot shut in a fury and there was a clatter of activity from behind the door. The clatter of chains, and a deep, rumbling growl punctuated now and again by booming barking.

The door didn't open again to unleash the dogs on them, but it looked as if they were corralled inside the room.

---

The gate keeper passes his will save and isn't affected by Charm Person, but he did seem to have enough expertise in Spellcraft to recognize the spell as it was being cast.

“Tricks? What trickery?  All I see is a diffusion of possible violence and a man refusing six ways from Sunday to allow a lawful search of the premises.  Clearly you are obstructing justice and you believe yourself in the right but you are not.  Open the gate! Muzzle your dogs and take one of us to go through the premises extorted by yourself to ensure everyone remains safe.”

Constantine's protestations prompted no response from the interior of the building, although the sounds of furious activity could still be heard behind the gate. There was something big prowling around in there, obviously dragging a length of chain which slithered and clattered over the floor as whatever it was paced back and forth behind the door.

Over the sounds of the guard dog there were opening and closing doors and pitter pattering feet, more than one pair, dashing to and fro hidden by the big double doors.

"Are we going in, then?"  Vadim scratched the top of his head, studying the front of the building.  "Solid looking door.  Could take some time.  Will make a lot of noise.  Maybe we look for other ways inside."  He paused, tattooed fingers fiddling with the worn fastenings on his coat.

"How long until the trial?  I am thinking perhaps it is better to go to the Judge, get warrant for searching and some tools."  Vadim picked his teeth with a fingernail, "My gut is telling me something here is big trouble."