Church of St. Giles in the Fields, ~11:20am Sunday May 5th, 1771


Sunday had brightened up whilst the village was in church: the paritioners emerged blinking into the light, briefly distracted from anything that was not the gentle shift and shuff of newly-leafed branches stretching golden and green to God's bluest heaven. It had been an inspired sermon, centred around notions of unity, collective strength in face of adversity, and the slow quiet might of faith. For a while, at least, Christian fellowship touched the hearts of the people of Scorch Norton, and after a genteel pause the Vicar dropped a request that no-one should let suspicion rule their heart, nor let it grow from some petty quarrel. Who, after all, was entirely without sin?
The Durbins had actually attended, though no-one would have blamed them if they had not come. Polly's father seemed very withdrawn and old, her mother sitting stiff like something propped up in beaded lace, jewellery and damasked finery, material shine doubtless deflecting all her inward turmoil. The weight of their grief had been like a cold spot in the white sunlit room.

Master Fox had sent apologies with his servants, claiming a bad night after his ordeal and subsequent oversleeping. John Ragge from his stables had represented both the Hall and the men of the Ragge family, his father being laid up and his brothers at work or possibly just skiving. Janet Criddle glowed in a front pew, sunlight catching in the strands of hair that escaped her church bonnet, and even if she let her daughter take her hand as the sermon turned to solidarity and the reminder of its necessity, Mrs. Criddle did not turn to look at Mrs. Durbin at all. Hester Collins had looked like she probably felt, her colour low and leaden, and Nell Babcock might not have slept, struggling to keep focus in her pew.

Maggie Yendale had actually attended, albeit unshod and sitting nearer the midwife than her kin (Levi Whitlock thought the former wonderful and mouthed 'ooo' at her as he half-dragged one of his currently-identical bumblefooted siblings towards the Hartman group). Oddly, Maggie had mostly sensed relief from many of those who had spared her a glance, especially Arnie Swanton. From the rest of the villagers there was a restlessness that the sermon, communion and liturgy gradually smoothed.

---

Doctor Lovelace had also seemed to be observing the way various people in the congregation took the words: when church let out he wended past those taking up offerings to the poor and waited out in the pleasant little churchyard for the Vicar to finish speaking with all who felt in need of him. Rooks wheeled overhead and occasionally brought in sticks from the countryside, and almost helped him forget his dreams.
Andrew had been a little worse for wear that morning, groggy with a slight pressure behind the temples that their household's pious half-fasting of a Sunday did not improve. Part-waking some time before it was time to get up, he'd almost thought a hare had folded her long limbs up on his chest whilst he was not quite awake enough to move and brought his injury to a warm pulse just short of pain with pressure. It was only the way he'd been lying, however. In the sober daylight it was hard to imagine the sense of connection there'd been from the night before.
Since his mother had asked him to stay put outside a moment for unexplained reasons, Andrew drifted over to the Doctor. An odd object caught his eye amongst the grass as he did so: perhaps a stray sunbleached piece of bone.

---

The Bees siblings had been fasting in a pious fashion due to yesterday's anxieties resulting in a lack of bread and Tom devouring the contents of the pottage-pot the evening before: Tom couldn't help but join the parish poor that day to curb the almost painful hunger gnawing at his middle. The Widow Sexton approached him moments after he got outside:

"Thomas? Would you go see Andrew for a moment?" she indicated the carpenter's whereabouts. "I need to borrow your sister for a while this morning."

Lucy gave Tom a querying look, uncertain if she should go. A sweep of children ran past, yapping and squealing to be finally at liberty, free as the clouds.

---

Meanwhile, Sam had been sat beside Edwin Worthey on a hard pew that seemed to only encourage him to think unholy thoughts, since any distraction was preferable to noticing his backside being turned into a square. Emma had been pale-to-greenish throughout the more recent months of her pregnancy, but nonetheless seemed particularly porcelain-like and fragile after whatever weeping she'd done over her cousin's death.

After the service, Sam was outside and admiring Mrs. Dobble's slate-blue dress in a more distracted moment when Goodie Westcott came straight up and addressed him. Maggie Yendale at her side:

"Sam Hartman, there's some things afoot as you ought to know about. Step over to where the Doctor and the carpenter have put themselves, will ye?"

With an old bonnet of Mercy's on her head (her own forgotten at home), Maggie does her best to attend to the readings and the sermon. Her attention doesn't stretch to long-winding sentences with overmany high flung words and concepts. Still, she appreciates the themes of fellowship and standing together to face the threat, as peaceful community is always in her heart, as well as some mischief and fun, of course.

Thomas gave the woman a look of she cannot be serious before adding "That is not happening, given the circumstances at the moment I will keep my sister at my side. Good day." he continued on possibly looking for Andrew, but also not going out of his way to look for him either.

He did not trust The Widow Sexton given her close association with Mercy Westcott. He suspected that she was really who wanted to "borrow" his sister and that would not be happening.


-

Lucy gave the woman that often fed them an apologetic look. "I'll...be seein to it later," she said, and hastened after her brother, leaving the widow to shake her head.

"Here, come on, you've surely nothing against Master Sexton," Lucy said, tugging at her brother's sleeve as he seemed set to stride right past where Andrew had noticed something near a grave and seemed to be considering picking it up.

Thomas watched Andrew for a second and then turned to his sister, "There are odd things happening in the village and some people are far to causal about it. Mercy Westcott has a hand in it, so it is best to stay out of her and her friends way."

"Your safety is my responsibility so lets just stay together for the time being."

he moved closer to Andrew "Found something interesting ?" he asked....




-

Meanwhile, Maggie drifted away from Goodie Westcott on seeing the elder Stones pass by with their elder daughter and her husband: first distracted by wondering once again who would call their son Miles and if his brothers might be Yards and Feet, then realising Jim was trailing some steps behind and moving to cut him out amongst the crowd. The boy stopped when Maggie came around before him, his eyes sliding from her gaze to the jaunty little bonnet sort-of covering her hair.

The surge of wanting to touch that red seemed enough distraction to knock the notion that he ought to speak some greeting to the lady quite out of his head, though he only twitched his fingers and looked aside. Behind them the rooks called out to each other among the trees. "..."

"Something caught your eye?" he asked Andrew. He tried to follow the man's gaze, but couldn't tell precisely what he was looking at or for.

The carpenter crouched down, both Thomas and the Doctor having seen his attention drawn to the small, bleached object. He silently wondered if the fear that had gripped him on his walk home, and the unsettling dreams which had followed, had left his mind in a haze, one that served to guide his awareness toward anything that seemed out of place…and possibly threatening.

”Perhaps a bone?” he replied to their questions, scooping up what he had spied.

The object proved to be a piece of chalk, sitting amongst the graves for no apparent reason.

The Church of Saint Giles in the fields has been a sacred site for not only Reverend Palmer, but most of the villagers of Scorch Norton for the entirety of their lives, a Lord's home where respite, tranquility and contemplation awaited with open arms for those willing to seek them out, even momentarily. Assuming that the recent unfortunate events would have left the previously unreachable bastion of faith untouched would be a grave mistake. The parishioners, along with Reverend Palmer have unwillingly brought with them the burden of doubts and sorrow that smoldered at the bottom of their soul, into the place of worship, a threat that required to be alleviated sooner rather than later.

Reverend took his role of the shepherd figure among the community with utmost seriousness, hoping wholeheartedly that his words this morning, have at least somewhat succeeded at soothing the inner turmoil and pain, which started seeping more and more out of the villagers with each passing hour.

Once the sermon had finished, Reverend Palmer cleared his throat, prior to taking a sip of the cold stream water, steadying himself to approach the Bereaved Durbins. "Mister Durbin, Misses Durbin, Lord's blessing to you..." The clergyman bowed his head slightly, before addressing each of the Durbin family members. "...Thank you for being here with us, your strength humbles us all. Know that whenever you find yourself striken by sorrow or doubt, you can find support and counsel in me, and in parishioners standing by your side."

Phillip Durbin managed to smile through his pain, but his wife drew herself up to almost the Vicar's height in a shimmer of finery. "Someone's done this, Vicar. Let the Lord find'm and smite him and rot out the heart from his chest."

The genuine ferocity died off, however, as Mrs. Durbin's natural self-centred anxieties welled up: "I tried to raise her right, Vicar, I tried so hard. She was not a bad girl, she just had a will to her, that's all. We ought to have locked her away. I said, sometimes, we ought to lock her up for her own good, but I never insisted... Someone killed her, Reverend. Someone killed my baby, an' she did nothing to them, she wouldn't...she..." she trailed off, swayed, and fortunately chose to slump against her husband rather than Cecil.

Polly's father just held his wife, swaying with her, and offered his hand across to grasp with thanks for the words, acknowledging the Vicar had done all he could. Emma Worthey came up and laid a hand on her aunt's shoulder, rubbing it in vague encouragement.

”Chalk. Odd to find it here…” Andrew said, his voice trailing off as he wondered why it might have been discarded in this place, close to the churchyard.

Looking toward the assembled graves, he studied the stones for signs of unusual markings.

07:22, Today: Andrew Sexton rolled 33 using 1d100.  Spot Hidden - Spot Hidden 50%

"Oh, Tom would've dropped that yesterday, belike, when he was chasing a hare," Lucy Bees put in. Andrew was already finding marks amongst the grass further back, however, if not of chalk.

"Why did he have chalk in the graveyard in the first place? Did he ever catch that hare?" he asked her.

”Thank you, Mistress,” Andrew told Lucy, genuinely appreciative of what she had told him. Even as he did, he held up a hand, palm out, a gentle prompt to request that Doctor Lovelace halt where he stood.

Pointing at the ground in front of Lovelace, he said, ”Doctor, can you see the tracks in front of you? Some are from a man but others…they’re hoofprints, marks made by cloven hooves. But if you look closely, they’re only in pairs, as if whatever left them was walking upright.”

He pointed to one of the nearby graves. ”There was a scuffle there. You can see there’s been a clod of dirt pulled up and some running about. Then, the one who took the dirt ran, pursued by the…one with hooves.” He paused, then added, “Hooves that are too small to hold anything sizable upright.”

He pointed over to the church itself. ”Both went lefthandwise around the church.” He stood, careful not to disturb any of the remaining prints further, moving to see where the trail around the sanctuary led.

Lucy flushed a little at being addressed so gallantly by her friend's master, but bobbed a tiny curtsy to the doctor to show willing. "We were trying the better to see what was on the grave by the Devil Stone in the church, sir, so Tom went to fetch chalk, so that we might rub it over and see anything still scratched in."

"Why he went around this way I don't know, but that devil must have come after, else he'd have seen it - wouldn't you, Tom?"

"He was surely close, but he didn't catch it, no," she added, seeing as her brother was staring at the ground with a distracted expression.


[[which way are you following the tracks, Andrew?

The running seemed to start at the graveside, so you'll need a Track roll to make anything out from walking pace beyond that around the church, or else one to do some casting about near the path to the lychgate out front. Tom might be able to set you on the right path, however.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:17, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

He tried to pay as much attention as he might, but was somewhat distracted by looking at Tom Bees, who was nearby and staring off.

Sam frowned after the service when Mercy had asked him to stay behind. He knew he would likely be scheduled to work in the fields today, and needed to confirm with Hugh where he would be working in the fields for most of the day.

"Aye, I know things have been afoot recently. I don't have a lot of time since I am out working today. Have you found anything new?" With that, he'd head over to where Andrew and Martin were standing.


[[GM edit: names.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:16, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

"That we have, and a dire thing at that," Goodie Westcott said with equal terseness. "I'll be over in a minute, we just need the Vicar - you mind on thinking if there was anyone else went in the Wood."

With that, the midwife headed with determined stride back into the church to see what the Reverend was about. Finding the clergyman with the Durbins, she had the grace - or wariness of being blamed - to stand some way aside and wait, though she clearly wanted to speak with Cecil.

Back outside, Sam came upon Andrew scanning the ground whilst the Doctor and the Bees siblings looked on. Lucy Bees gave him a pleasant if uncertain smile, equally unsure of what was going on.

"Lord's light has never shied away from illuminating the truth, and this instance will not be an exception, I can give you my word..." Seeing Misses Durbin's spirit and hopes crumble before his very eyes, Reverend Palmer joined others in comforting the weeping mother. Despite not entirely being certain about the exact intricacies of Polly Durbin's fate, the cruelty of giving the bereaved parents sperance in regards to the situation would be akin to rubbing salt into an open wound he thought.

"Lord will be our guide, and we need to trust his path, no matter how foreign it may seem at times. As you know, every single member of this community is with you and understands your despair, and we will remain restless until we discover the culprit behind this." Vicar's gaze didn't miss the presence of Mercy Westcott, and with a nod, he signalled the mysterious woman that he will be with her, once the conversation with Durbins is done with.

[[GM edit: names]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:20, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

"Field work on Sabbath, Sam Hartman? No good will come o' that. 'Tis wicked." Maggie rather enjoys casting aspersions on someone else for a change. But when Sam scuttles away, she hurries over to catch Jim Stone on his own, taking his arm and dragging him away from any other.

"Jim," she says without greeting or preamble, but careful to keep her voice quiet, "Why did Polly give you her India fish? Was it a lover's gift or t'buy your silence about somewhat? Ye must tell me 'fore it rouses suspicion 'gainst you." Her eyes bore into his, brooking no denial or evasion.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:36, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

Jim had let himself be dragged aside and into the deep shade of the yew to keep the Devil out at the northern corner of the churchyard, not really understanding that he ought to object. Being gripped and stared at got him, though, every limb going tense and all aggressive power going into looking back when forced to it, like a badger planting itself whilst threatened in readiness to kill some baiting dog. His teeth showed in a pale line from under his upper lip. "..."

[[maggie used eye contact! It's super-effective! ...at escalation, at least. Give me an Insight roll, Maggie.]]

Margaret Yendale rolled 29 upfor Insight 45.

Maggie narrows her eyes, her voice quiet but hard as she says, "Don't you think you can frighten me, Jim Stone. I intend to have an answer from you here and now. And I won’t be fobbed off with lies. Tell me about that fish.”.

Maggie sets her own feet and leans her shoulders forward, her hands open and arms flexed a bit, ready for a tussle if it comes to that.

"She gave it me," Jim said, a statement without a note of complaint or excuse. He seemed to accept that Maggie intended to beat him and watched for her first move, loath to strike even a girl as big as that.

"Aye," says Maggie slowly and after a moment, "I didn't imagine ye'd stole it. But why would she--"

Maggie stops and thinks about who she's talking to and what she needs to discover.

"Why would a person just give something they treasure so much to somebody else? Why would Polly do that d'ye think?"

Thomas turned to his sister as she spoke of the chalk and added "Yes the chalk was ours from yesterday, as were the tracks I would add. I was chasing a Hare again and they probably go all over the place, here and there."


-

Andrew gazed at the track nearest the Doctor’s feet. ”You’re certain it was only a hare?” He shook his head, trying to understand what he saw. ”They don’t walk upright. Or have hooves.”

He looked back to Thomas. ”Did you learn anything? From the grave?”

His curiosity still disquieting him, he started for the church, looking to see if more inexplicable tracks encircled it.

17:46, Today: Andrew Sexton rolled 16 using 1d100.  Track - Track 40%.

"You'll get hexed, a-going on like that..." Lucy warned her brother.

Andrew wandered off to check around the back of the church. Tom - or someone equally towering - did seem to have walked up and down several times.

[[let me know if he's heading right to the other side at present - I'll hold the roll regardless, but Andrew's mother, Maggie and Goodie Westcott were trying to convene some sort of meeting...]]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:18, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

In reply to Margaret Yendale (msg # 25):

Jim proved calmer once let out from the immediate threat of that stare: not relaxed, perhaps, but not braced for violence in that same instant. His hands clenched, unclenched, swung back and forth at his side as he thought, looking off at the churchyard wall.

He shrugged as to why 'a person' would give gifts, not being difficult but the scope of the query too broad. Polly he knew about, but hesitated all the same, frowning over there. "Think she thought...as some secrets're...heavy. An' if she went away, only I'd have 'em, an' not her, so...'s her best thing. Her best thing." He reached into his shirt pocket and warily brought out his fist, opening it just a moment to show her the silver treasure within, the cunningly-jointed Indian fish surely warm from his body.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:36, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

Thomas looked to his sister as he said "Yes just a hare." he then turned back. "Here come look at the grave stone."

OOC: If our GM would be so good as to report the pic of the text from the stone.


-

"Oh, and the Vicar has written down what we saw on it, too," Lucy enthused.

Striding away back into the church, Tom found the Vicar extricating himself from the little knot of people around Sarah Durbin, and on glancing aside saw Mary Wescott waiting for the clergyman's attention. She met his eye but made no greeting to him one way or the other.

"Thank you, Vicar..." Mrs. Durbin was saying, sounding feeble and generally being fussed by her husband and relatives. "...I..I will do my best to put my trust in the Lord, but oh, I am weak sometimes..."


[[They won't be able to see it unless they cover it with chalk again.]]

"I trust your strength will prevail over this darkness when you least expect it. The Lord's ways may surprise you but his intentions for you are good." With a supportive hand placed on the Mrs. Durbin's shoulder, the vicar replied "As I have mentioned earlier, if you are in need of a counsel, some tranquility, or even the church's doors are and will be open for you whenever, and my ear will be yours solely." With a slight pause and a glance directed behind the Durbins, reverend continued. "I believe another partitioner is requiring my attention, it could be related to the ongoing investigation, so if you don't mind I will leave you in the loving, caring embrace of your family members and I hope we will see each other soon, and if we don't, I may stop by."

With a gentle caress and few kind words of support, Reverend Palmer left the company of the mourning Durbins, and approached the very...very patient Goodie Westcott. "Lord's blessing to you Goodie Westcott, your subtle glance made it known that my presence is required. How may I be of assistance on this lovely sunday morning."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

A mixture of curiosity and concern prompted Andrew to follow Thomas when he mentioned the gravestone, whatever he had discovered there clearly of great importance to him. The strange nature of the tracks hung in Andrew’s mind, there being no sign of a hare anywhere that he had seen, only the disturbing cloven prints of something that shouldn’t be able to move upright.

He drew close to his mother, doing his best to give her a smile, knowing that she could likely discern just how unsettled he was.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:11, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

In reply to James Stone (msg # 29):

Maggie regards the trinket. She exhales and looks back to Jim, nodding. When she speaks, her voice is gentle.

"Aye. I want ye to know, whatever secret you might carry, if it starts seemin' too heavy, ye c'n share th' weight with me, Jim. I'll be yer friend as much as ever I can. Believe me.

"So, where was Polly... Where'd she think she was going to?"

Polly was never her best friend. Still, it saddens her that she couldn't have helped her carry whatever weight she was laboring under.

Jim shifted attention to his knuckles, still swaying a little as he thought. "..."

"To colonies...or to Scotland, with the wild people. If Master Bees dint marry her." Jim closed his fist on the fish, but gently. "She'd...she'd have told me, though, if she went. If she was alive."

There was emotion Maggie recognised in that statement: mixed anger and grief that only intensified. "Only they said...you said's the...the man did for her."

He reached up and put the fist with the fish across the back of Maggie's neck to draw her down, the other hand unfolding to rest on her upper arm, not seeming quite aware that it might be taken as too familiar altogether with a girl. There was no attempt to kiss her, however, just a soft murmur in her ear.

He let her go and tapped a finger to his lips, sliding aside and hastily jogging a few steps before he could be caught, only then looking back.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:43, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

Maggie tenses a bit, but doesn't resist Jim's closeness. When he bolts away she straightens but doesn't pursue.

Maggie thinks: She'd surely have waited to hear Tom Bees' decision before she went away but did he give it that night? And anyhow, she never went. She died up there at the edge of the Wood.

In reply to Reverend Palmer (msg # 32):


"There's things afoot you ought know of, Vicar, and mayhap you can help deal with 'em. Widow Sexton and the Yendale girl have gathered up the rest outside, I wot. You too, Master Bees," she beckoned both outside; although Tom was loath to move Lucy was happy to come alongside the Vicar, giving him a bright smile from under her buttercup-trimmed bonnet.

"Tom was going to show Master Sexton and the Doctor the grave, but maybe you should tell them about the inscription first?" she suggested.

---

Outside, the path from the church was almost empty, only a few stragglers making their way out of the gate, Jim Stone lastmost. Widow Sexton was waiting off to the side a little with Robin Yendale, distracted from whatever she'd been saying to the apprentice by her son's approach.

Seeing Andrew looking lost and concerned his mother instinctively reached out to him, pressing her hand to his arm as though she could press reassurance into him by dint of being undeniably solid, undeniably there. Robin drew back a little from the moment of familial affection, unsure if he was welcome even to observe, but Widow Sexton put a hand on his shoulder, too, and it seemed as natural for him to reach out and offer his hand to Lucy as she came up.

Lucy took it and reached back for Tom's, grinning at this bit of gentle foolishness after a scouring day and a half. "?"

[[going to presume Maggie, Sam and Martin have drifted over at this point, else this turns into a catherding sim.]]

"Right, that's all of them. Mercy, I was going to have Lucy and the lad come prepare the Sunday meal with me, but Long Tom thinks you're apt to make off with Lucy, so we're not quite seeing eye-to-eye on that."

Goodie Westcott shot Tom an irritated glance. "Well, I'm here as ye might see with yer own eyes. Lucy, will you stay or go?"

"I..." Lucy cringed back, looking between the midwife and her brother, not understanding his quarrels. The memory of Tom running into the Wood and the fear of being entirely alone in the world reached her, however, and she swallowed, letting Robin go and edging nearer her brother. "...I'll stay."

"We'll all stay, then," Widow Sexton said, seeing Robin's hesitation. "-but Robin, this stays between the ten of us 'less it endangers anyone else, all right?"

"Yes'm."

"Right. Vicar, Gentlemen...Thomas, I've come into the knowledge that there is something abroad from out of the Wood as can mimic the shape of at least one man, an' maybe others such have been within the bounds of that place."

Maggie watches Jim go from the churchyard, uncertain how she could detain him, but sorry for his loneliness. She smiles to see Widow Sexton lay a gentle hand on Robin, glad that he is finding a place among his master's household. She drifts closer as the Sexton daisy-chain assembles and almost reaches out her own hand to Andrew.

Instead, she steps up beside Mercy. As the wisewoman begins to speak, she hods her head, her expression more grave than most have seen it.

edited by the player to replace a probably anachronistic term
This message was last edited by the player at 22:40, Sun 14 Aug 2022.

"I was already aware of that Goodie Westcott, and wanted to elaborate more on the topic once the sermon reached its end. Tom has shared with me last night that he had encountered.... what he explained to be... a double of himself, being chased away by the bells he heard earlier, when he was chasing away a hare from his hives." The frowning of Reverend Palmer's eyebrows clearly signaled how worried and confused he actually was. Prior to this event, at least the foe's appearance was distinguishable, now.... now the enemy could be among the villagers, listening to what leaves their lips this very moment. " I was initially skeptical about the whole encounter, and how it went, but the Sexton can confirm that it happened."


[[GM edit: potential confusion.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:05, Sun 14 Aug 2022.

Thomas meets the woman's eyes and does not stop staring until she does. He listened to what she had to say without adding anything of his own, holding Lucy's hand as he does.


-

Maggie gasps at the Reverend's words, her eyes flying to Tom Bees.

"Oh, Tom," she breathes.

Lucy held a little tighter, taking Maggie's exclamation for doubt. "This'n is the real one: we locked up here an' then we was at home all night," she protested.

A flicker of doubt crossed her face, since her brother had seemingly lied to her at the point a swap might have occurred, but since he'd told the Vicar he was probably real, or else playing an elaborate bluff. The midwife frowned and nodded.

"Any sense of what he was after, this extra Tom?"

"But how did you come in possession of such knowledge Goodie Westcott? Have you witnessed a similar thing yourself last night?" Even though the vicar's latest reply to Goodie Westcott has caused suspicions to rise, truth should prevail, and if the information is left hidden in the dark, the harder it will be to make sense out of the events that shaped past several days.

Goodie Westcott inhaled, ordering her thoughts. "No. Kate Hurley thought she saw and spoke with Master Fox whilst Master Fox was in the Wood. This one was clean, too."

She looked over at Dr. Lovelace. "Doctor, have you been at the Hall of late?"

"No, not really. Have I been seen out and about in places I haven't been then?" he asked.

"Not yet," Goodie Westcott half-assured him. "I was but wondering if you'd spoken with the young squire of late. He won't take a warning from me, even if he smiles, bows and says so."

In reply to Mercy Westcott (msg # 47):

Thomas gave a shrug "Perhaps he does not trust you." He then crossed his arms over his chest.


-

"A cunning observation, Master Bees - right sharp as a marble, ye be," the midwife said, passing on without pause. "It might be more like that he lends less credence to what's known of the Wood and its power than the common folk, for what power 'as ever he met with that he'd have to pay more heed to than an 'excuse me' if he trips over a Duke?"

Andrew spoke up hesitantly. ”Mistress Westcott, Thomas had talked of chasing a hare about the church. But I’ve examined all of the tracks that I can find here diligently. There’s none that were made by a hare. Besides those left by Thomas, there’s only marks made by something with hooves. Small and cloven. They were made in pairs, as though the creature that left them was walking upright.”

"A difficult thing to give credence to, if I may say so. I attempted to give it credence and ask you about it, but all you wanted to talk about was your 'device,' wasn't it?" he observed.

"Of the tracks that Andrew refers to, I have heard of a species of deer in which the males engage in battling rituals prior to mating season, in which they very nearly stand, but I don't think that we have that particular variety locally. If this hooved creature is standing on two feet, then perhaps it is some form of uncatalogued fauna."

As for his dreams, well, he planned to drink the strongest thing he could find when next the opportunity presented itself.

"No more'n when I was asked, an' I asked ye what ye'd know but ye were set on returnin' that to me an' all," Goodie Westcott said with perhaps less than even temper.

"It's our 'oss Trugred a-tryin' to keep the Wood from the village it's bound to, belike, an' I think we've well established that Master Bees is given to some elaboration of the truth," she concluded.

[[roll me a INT/Idea, Andrew.]]

"So, we've Lucy 'as seen him through last night, Andrew and the Doctor and the Doctor's man most ways together-"

Widow Sexton cut in at this point. "Doctor, I think it best you tell the others here what you and Andrew found, about the beasts. With your expertise," she added, trying to mediate between midwife an physician.

Andrew looked thoughtful for a moment.

13:07, Today: Andrew Sexton rolled 37 using 1d100.  INT (Idea) - INT (Idea) 60%.

GM edit: voraciously colonising an empty post.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:09, Wed 17 Aug 2022.

As the words flew around the small circle here gathered, Maggie's eyes flew with them.

"Seems th' evil of th' wood is gettin' what it wants, all of us settin' about one another contentious-like, rather than makin' our common cause like th' reverend preached.

how big're th' hoofprints ye found, Andrew Sexton? Hare-size or man-size or horse-size? And where do they end at?"

"We captured several of the creatures, dispatched them from the mortal coil, and then set them to the flame," he said quite cheerfully.

"We did observe an unnaturally fast state of decay in one of the birds, the partridge I believe it was. And this is a bit strange, but the creature's flesh seemed as if it was comprised in large part of plant material rather than you know...actual flesh. I haven't truly heard of such a thing. It is true, there are reportedly plants that can grow within a person though not well. Sunlight and all that. But I don't know quite what this was about."

"I can only conclude that there is some type of pestilence or miasma in the Wyzenwood that has potentially gotten into the groundwater supply. I think we should set the entire place to the torch."

"Ay, and if She didn't kill ye within moments of bringing flame in there, ye'd move on an' leave us to deal with Her vexed and laying waste to the countryside, I bet." Martin got a very annoyed look. "This bird, was it right and normal in the skeleton?"

"Fire is the only solution here. That place is causing numerous maladies among the local populace, and going within it to find the source is too risky given the environmental miasma that infects the mind when going within. We have seen that clearly since going within. I think it best to implement a controlled burn," he said, looking to see what everyone else thought about this idea.

"But yes, the skeletons were I think normal - other than being wrapped in plant material."

Andrew’s attention had been drawn to the debate regarding the Wyzenwood. He turned to Margaret when she inquired about the tracks. “The hooves, they look to be about the size of those belonging to a cow, Mistress. I’ve only looked here in the churchyard and around the church itself. I’ve not yet sought to see where they might have originated from.”

OOC: The Keeper has noted to me that dairy cattle in this period were roughly 2/3rds the size of their modern counterparts, so adjust your concept of the discovered tracks accordingly.

With that thought came another. Addressing the beekeeper, he asked, “Tom, this double of yours. Could you show me where you first saw it?”

Frowning at the ongoing discussion of the haunted forest, he interjected, ”It does seem that all of the trouble here in the village leads to those accursed woods.”

“Trugred," breathes Maggie, though in her heart she believes cow-size too small for the great beast.

She won’t gainsay an eminence like the Doctor, but she will contend with Andrew: "Master Sexton, with all ye know of growing trees an' woods, can ye believe that any fire would make even a dent in such a wild place as the Wyzenwood? An' it not even a dry season?"

Then she cocks her head in thought. "Goody Westcott, what of my father? I am certain he went into th’ Wood some time gone, yet I’ve not heard of him or any double of him bein’ seen since. Has somethin’ recent took place d’ye think to make such possible? Like Polly’s death?”

Goodie Westcott nodded to Maggie's assessment, tamping down some vexation. The question caused her some pause.

"I'd say it's the one Wood-thing for the one life to go in it, aye...if it could make a semblance of your father's face I don't know. Could be it can only do those as left a hair or drop of blood in there for the Wood to let it take scent of as it came out, but be wary." She frowned hard at a thought. "...I know it's not meant to speak on, but did he ever dance Trugred, to your knowledge?"

She nodded to the description of the unnatural bird. "That gives some notion of how She brings dead alive to make a thing for to wander and spread Her stink about: raising up old bones with plants for flesh. Grow a sight faster than meat even when they're natural, a shoot to a seedling and so on." The midwife caught Maggie's eye. "If we can cut it off from Her power it might prove flammable."

She made a face. "Though it'd beg, belike. You sure you're up for this buisness of catching it, Maggie?"

"Never heard a Dad dancin' in th' revela an' I reckon he'd a bragged on it." There’s a slight smile at the memory of that man of outsize appetite and pride and minimal shame. Then, she turns solemn at Mercy’s most serious question.

"Aye,"she says after a pause, "I'll stand with ye, Mercy, in th’ trappin’ and in th’ endin’ of it.”

Thomas is happy to show Andrew where the thing was first spotted. "I tried to give chase but ended up on my arse so let it go." he returns back to the group and having listened to Goodie Westcott  he adds "We found an inscription on one of the grave stones, but it was the Vicar that translated it..."

"Having been in the wood right to it's "Heart" I will also add that it not going to burn to any satisfying point."

Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but found no answer to Margaret’s admonition. Suddenly mindful that the small gathering had no need, or desire, for anything that he could contribute, he followed Thomas to the spot where the beekeeper indicated that he had first seen his double. Crouching, he examined the ground closely, hoping for some sign of where the doppelgänger might have come from.

Seeing Tom wander back from around the church without her son, Widow Sexton told the youngest members of the group to look after each other and hurried back around the building. The fear of her surviving child being replaced by something out of the Wood caused her to wind a hand into her skirts and jog. "Andrew!" she called, suddenly mindful of how rarely a boy's movements were ever curtailed for him to think on such precautions, still less the movements of a man, "-don't be out of sight, not now!"

She came up warily when he was in sight, mildly flushed and suspicious. "If you're not Andrew I am going to give that Bees boy such a hiding..."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:46, Sat 20 Aug 2022.

With a nod here, a "hmm" there, Reverand Palmer clistened to the well-intentioned tidbits of conversation being spewed out frantically by the fellow paritioners around him, which led the vicar to the depths of his thoughts, trying to find an answer for something so foreign, so bizzare that the very conundrum that sits at it's core shifts with every passing moment. "Perhaps the visit of Master Fox and Master Bees to the core of the Wyzenwood might have been what caused their doubles to form, as far as I know that may be the only experience that ties them together a part from having doubles of course. As we are aware so far, the doubles have been able to mimic the physical appearance, but if we manage to make sure that everyone here carries something with them, a trinket of sorts, which could prove their identity, we would be able to make sure we are speaking to the right person"

After a brief pause, Reverend remembered to elaborate more on the last night's discovery. "With help of Lucy and Tom I have manage to translate what is written on the Bishop Aelfric's grave, the one next to the Devil stone. The inscription says He who exhumes me will take this spot. Any volunteers?"

Maggie frowns at the minister’s idea of a talisman. The doubles haven’t turned up naked after all, but clothed and shod the same as their originals, so duplicating some little object may also be within their ability. Still, clothing and even shoes are not far removed from plant and animal materials. But metal!

"Could it be that you'd have some religious medallion or th' like, Reverend Sir, that we each could wear about our necks? Just t’borrow belike, not to keep, I mean.

”It is me, Mother,” the carpenter said, turning to face her as she approached, suddenly shamed that he had inadvertently given her a fright, ”Your Andrew. The one still trying to live up to his birthright.” He gave her a wan smile.

”I am sorry. I didn’t think about stepping away with all of strangeness about.” He pointed to the ground. ”I had asked that Thomas show me where he first saw the double of himself. I wanted to see if I could tell where it might have come from.”

Nodding toward the nearby wall, he said, ”It seems to have come from that direction. The ground is damp enough, I should be able to track it on the other side.”

"My child, unfortunately I doubt that such thing could be found on the premises of The Church of Saint Giles, maybe in Rome." Margaret's inclination towards Papish idolatry hasn't irritated the Vicar, in fact, it brought out a chuckle out of him. He knew that Margaret's intentions were pure, and God forbid this nod to the catholic practices leaves her mouth once again, Vicar's disposition might need to change. "If I am not mistaken, and we can easily verify with the Sexton... We may have some spare lead, down where we keep repair supplies, that when stamped with a parish seal could be fashioned into a medallion. I am sure the smith could be of help."

"Once made though..." The Reverend pensively continues, searching for Tom Bees with his gaze "...It might be smart to keep it in your pocket and not display, we don't know the extent of this double's prowess. Master Bees could maybe give us the more insight..." Despite finishing his train of thought, his visual search for the youth hasn't

"More insight Vicar, I am sorry I don't know what you mean. To be honest I did not get a very close look at the thing before it ran off."


-

"You tell the smith, he'll tell the village," Goodie Westcott said, simply stating the fact. "Do we think yon present unity will last, or yourselves stay at liberty - for all I called here saving Lucy and Robin have been at least some steps in the Wood - if you speak of what's walking before we have a plan to capture it agreed in common?"

The question seemed genuine, though given the smith's hatred of her and a recent raid on her home the midwife might simply be trying to save her own skin. She had appeared to have something worked out with Maggie, however, given the assurance passed between them.

"More insight into how it looked, was it nude or was it clothed as you were in that moment? It may help us understand its capabilities and help us prepare." Vicar questioned the young man with a calm, tranquil tone, before turning to Goodie Westcott to try to tranquil hers.

"Goodie Westcott we don't have to sit with the Smith and retell him the events of past days in tiniest detail, that may take ten times more than crafting the actual medallions. I will just tell him that I need them for myself and keep my lips tightly shut."

Properly abashed by the godly man's comment, Maggie's gaze found her feet. A lump of lead in her pocket would be enough for the purpose she supposed but a little bit of silver to hang around her neck would have been nice.

As the conversation drifts to blacksmiths and crafting, she grows bored and follows Andrew and his mother around the corner of the church in time to hear the carpenter say
"I've some skill at tracking, Andrew, if you tell me what t'look for."

"Well it was clothed just as I am now. At first it had trouble walking, but soon got to a speed that I was unable to follow."

"The Sexton has shears and a hammer I am sure he would not mind us using them."



-

Sam frowned when he heard the news of a... doppelganger (of sorts) in the Wood. He had been lost in thought, wanting to try and meet with Hugh to see what he needed to do today for work. But with this most recent news, he knew he wanted to confirm that his family was all still there and alright - maybe little Levi hadn't been so far off when Sam had escaped from the wood.

He softly asked, "That transcription... what does it mean by 'taking his place?'"

OOC: Levi is Sam's nephew through his sister Mary.

"Then the Sexton will be our next destination, good thinking Master Bees" the left end of Vicar's lips curved upward upon Thomas's suggestion. "Upon receiving them, I think it would be best if we keep them in our pockets, far from sight, if this creature can take shape of our surfaces, what is hidden away from prying eyes would be immune to its powers."

"I unfortunately can't go beyond the literal in deciphering the inscription, I assumed one might end up dead if he undertakes such a thing, unless it is referring to the position of power the buried occupied during his life" Vicar turned to Samuel and the group, hoping they might provide an interpretation which goes beyond his surface level inspection.

The midwife had been looking in the direction Maggie had gone, watching her pass out of sight with a frown. The Vicar's words refocused her attention, her gaze settling on Lucy and Robin instinctively huddling close to each other like siblings dwelling in one house, clearly feeling awkward and out of place. "They'll be back," she told the youngsters.

"One up one down stands to reason, if the Bishop's body - or soul, or both mayhap - is holding the old boundary together. They took care to carve that message right on the stone as keeps him there, so we'd know some thousand years since. That's what I see in it. Take him out, you have to hang a man and put him down there - or maybe the old Bishop does it himself, without a rock over him."

"So much talk of stones, would lifting the old ones back into place make a difference ?" Thomas knew there were a couple of stone that had fallen, would righting them help he wondered.


-

"I don't know," the midwife replied, honestly if not without a touch of amusement at discussing the raising of pagan monuments in front of the Vicar. "I suppose it might do, if you got enough willing men together to do it. Then again there might be something special in the way they was put up first, alignments or solstices or sacrifices or some like."

"I suppose it can wait until further notice, the talismans are our priority." Looking around for able bodied youth, the vicar continued. "Could some of you lend me a hand to bring out the lead?" He extended an open invitation.

"It's kept up in the eaves, isn't it? I'll take the crawl gallery, bein' smallest save Lucy and her in her good clothes," Robin volunteered, then hesitated a little. "There can't be anything up there but birds, can there, Vicar? For bein' out of sight a moment, I mean."

He frowned in thought. "Well...I'd call out if anything tried to carry me oft, so it'd be no matter," he concluded, and drew himself up. "All right."

"Before it gets lost in the trove of superstitious nonsense we are apparently set about discussing, I wanted to ask what this gathering of the finest minds in Scorch Norton thinks can or should be done about the prowler. The man with the axe, who was dressed in such a manner as to hide his identity. Polzeath, Sexton, and myself all stumbled upon him while we were on the apparently urgent business of locating Goodie Wescott's 'device.'..."

He paused.

"But that's neither here nor there. Who prowls around secretively with an axe? This could well be our murderer here. A man, or woman I suppose, but I rather think this was likely a man...hides their identity when they don't wish to be identified, which means this individual believed they might indeed be identified - and to do so, they might be reasonably prominent within our little town. In fact, the fellow that we chased down was headed in the direction of Master Fox's estate. Do you suppose we should go and warn him?"

"An axe?" Lucy squeaked, forgetting to be a grown maiden for a moment. "Some'un wants to chop people up with an axe, and we're just hanging about? We ought to tell folk!"

"Y'were burnin' beasts," Goodie Westcott stated flatly, but frowned at the rest of the talk. "I 'spect he's told the innkeep," she assured Lucy, "Assuming as he might have enough brains to fill a thimble, maybe, but still...an axe? Most murderers, they go about it one way, bein' if they're not in a frenzy. A quiet strangling and an axe in nigh broad daylight - as you might suppose this fellow was plotting by the disguise - they're not of a likeness, are they?"

"Hmph. Plenty of serving folk on the Fox estate, that's true. 'Less you think it was the Young Squire, and that'd make even less sense for the skulking, seeing as a man of the gentry could just ask anyone he pleased to meet with him at discretion and axe them in fine and private like his greats-uncle was wont to do. He could have done the like for poor Polly, save that all the Criddle hands would swear him drunk asleep with them on May Night - isn't that so, Sam?"

"...but should we warn him? We should tell him about the fake him, at least."

Goodie Westcott looked like her sense and instincts were at war with each other, the furrow between her brows growing only deeper. "Ay...and he might be able to get someone to account for his people, at least," she allowed at length. "An' seeing as this axe fellow ran away from ye gentlemen with such armament to hand, it might be that the prowler was a-looking to chop someone in particular, on the high road or the path between the inn and the estate, maybe."

Lucy gave Tom a very wide-eyed look. "...one...one of us?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:56, Tue 30 Aug 2022.

"Or maybe he just wanted a chance with your device?" he asked Goodie Wescott.

"Well then, an' don't that make it the more important to discover who was turnin' my house arse for top?" Goodie Westcott shot back.

In reply to Lucy Ann Bees (msg # 82):

Sam nodded. "Aye, I had spent the night there since I fully admit I had had too much to drink, and had been scheduled for work the day after. However, I spoke with some of the farmhands as well as Hugh Dobble not too long ago, and we all noticed the same thing - a strange dream of sacrifice. Speaking of which, I've been scheduled to work this afternoon, so I need to head out for now."

"Ye will need to be helping Robin with the lead quickly, then, and the Vicar fetch the Sexton," Goodie Westcott said, seeing as the men were inclined to lose focus. "Doctor, if ye mean to be away to the Hall as soon as they're made, perhaps ye'd see the Bees home on the way, if they're disinclined to eat with Tempe and her lad."

Lucy gave Tom a look that said she'd rather get more food today than the small roll for the poor they'd shared, and were it cooked by someone who knew what they were about it'd be a bonus. She didn't voice the pleading, however.

Goodie Westcott nodded up in the direction of Fox Hall. "Will ye go with Doctor Lovelace, Vicar?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on his sister's shoulder as he himself mulled things over. "We can take another bite," he said as he looked to at least get Lucy something else on her plate.


[[GM edit: formatting fix.]]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:34, Mon 12 Sept 2022.

In reply to Mercy Westcott (msg # 86):

Sam nodded, silently sighing. "I thought I had made it clear that I had to get to work," he muttered. "I'll take care of the lead with Robin, but I'll have to do it quickly."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:31, Sat 10 Sept 2022.

"Well then, get to it!" Mercy said, and clapped her hands at them, flustering Robin and Sam into motion and focusing the Vicar's attention.

"I, er...well, yes, I think I ought to go up to the Hall, at any rate," he agreed. "I'll just go fetch the Sexton. Doctor, if you would be so kind as to fetch the church seals with the Bees..."