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.”