"No..." Jehannes hesitates before finally telling Quin what's been on her mind. She tells him that her father has been ill for some time now, bedridden with fevers ever since he came home from the fields with a gash across his forearm. The wound has healed but he is still weak and he has... changed, his hair is coarser and darker, eyebrows thick over the bridge of his nose and his speech is garbled.

Jehannes mother told her not to say anything to anyone so she's been terrible afraid the last few days.

OOC: +30% is a bonus to your target value so a roll of 38 is a success vs. 51%.

Quin tries to swallow his alarm. "Dost know if it was a beast that bit him? Will he take water?" he asks, knowing that for all his effort his tone likely brings her no comfort. Etienne actually turns an ear back in case the tension is some indication of danger, huffing in a deep breath. Quin scans the party and the trees, frowning, then casts a glance to Jehanne.

"...is it thy belief that thy wound might be of the same sort, or caused by him whilst he lacks his wits?"

"I am afraid my scar is like his," she says. "but I don't even remember getting it. He was brought home by two of the other farmers, they found him collapsed at the edge of the field. Like me he doesn't remember how he got it. He drinks, a little, and can eat broth sometimes." She looks worriedly at Quin.

The knight relaxes very slightly, though his brows are creased with that 'thinking' frown. "That is well..." he says, so that Jehanne has the assurance whilst he collects the rest of his thoughts. "...if it is much like thy mark it is not a bite, and if he can drink it is not the last stages of the Rage."

He's quiet for a bit, remembering a twilight glimpse of a wolf dead and upright, eyes sightless and foam pale as the snow seeming to vomit up from some endless supply inside: some void to Hell. "I felt no fever in thy brow," he adds, as much to reassure her as himself. "How long wouldst thou make it since thy father was carried home, and has he seen a priest...or Perfect since?"

Guy rode along quietly. He wanted to catch up with Quintillion, and get his perspective on the sage. Something about her and what she had said he didn't quite trust, and he wondered if the young knight had noticed anything he hadn't. She had certainly been quick to call it devilswork and get out of there.

But the knight was up ahead chatting quietly with Jehenne, and it seemed he was making progress or at least building a rapport, for She seemed more relaxed and was talking back. He wondered what they were talking about but didn't want to disrupt their conversation.

As they came off the mountain and entered the forest, they passed a man with a cart going into the forest to collect firewood. He urged the cart off the road and doffed his cap while the entourage passed.

Guy silently caught the peasant's eye and looked away. He scratched his nose and then idly rubbed his left upper arm. [Private to GM: signaling neither yes nor no, rescue. Guy wants the brigands to peetend to waylay someone, we will rescue them.]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Mon 06 Nov 2023.

The group continues on along the uneven road and come upon a group of five or so men gathered around a merchants wagon some hundred yards away down the road. The men are carrying clubs and crossbows and their body language certainly look threatening towards the poor merchant. You can hear him shout, "No, please, it's everything I got!"

Quin pulls his coif up and tightens it one-handed, leaving the lower strip loose. "Ride back to thy aunt," he tells Jehanne quickly, swinging his shield around to battle position and nodding at Guillaume, a little force in his tone to make sure the boy didn't freeze in his tracks. "Go thou with her - swiftly!"

With that he kicks Etienne into a dead run towards the robbers, hoping to scatter them.


[[what do I roll, Ref?]]

"Stay here. Guard the girl. Guard the wagon. This could be a distraction" Guy growled to his men.

"HYA! HYA!" JE CHOISI LA MORT!" He cried his battle cry, drawing his sword and charging forward, heels hammering into his mount's flanks.

13:42, Today: Guy de Roquefixade rolled 65 using 1d100.  attack (ride 36).

Quintillian and Guy spur their cheval de batailles and charge down the road towards the brigands. Guys horse steps on a loose stone and looses it's footing on the uneven road and it's all the lord can do to keep their balance, completely losing his mighty momentum.

The bandits turn around and start to scatter at the sight of the two chevaliers.

OOC: Quin, with a succesful Ride you may catch up to the closest bandit. On a fail they manage to get away into the underbrush.

Armoured knight and massive steed come down on the brigands like a bolt of grey thunder or a hawk amongst birds, scattering men. Quin leans back to slow and reins around when level with the merchant, grabbing his pommel a moment as Etienne threatens to rear up, excited by the prospect of a chase.

"Are you harmed, Sénher?" he asks, his shield and stallion between the merchant and harm.


[[Quin's priority is defending the (relatively) innocent (and Guy when he notices he's struggling), but he'll do it if Merchant Buddy here says they've made off with something particularly important.]]

Guy prepared to slip his feet from the stirrups and jump clear should the beast go down, but the horse managed to recover its footing so he slowed the horse to a walk, and once it had recovered, trotted up to Quintillian and the merchant. "Are you hurt, Sir?" He asked, scanning the trees for hostiles.

If there is no immediate danger, he will dismount and check his horse's shoes and feet.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:45, Tue 14 Nov 2023.

William gallops in alongside thundering Quin, stopping a bit behind his new acuinte, halting and whirling his loaned mount around as the bandits take off. He scans the horizon to ensure this was no trap set to lure the party into encirclement.

20:33, Today: William FitzAlan rolled 27 using 1d100 with rolls of 27.  Perception 36.

As the apparant danger is running into the underbrush down the mountainside, the knights and men-at-arms dismounts beside the merchants wagon. Williams sharp eyes cannot notice any more of them beside the road.

The driver, a middle-aged and thin man exclaims "Thank you! They were going to take it all! Mon deiu, a toll, the call it, to cross into the baronie. Pah!" He motions towards what looks like piles of fabric loaded onto the wagon. He scoff. "And my 'guards' took off towards Saint Volusien at the first sign of trouble. Melisande will not be contracting them again, I'm sure."

He wipes sweaty hand on a yellow linen tunic that have seen better days.

Seeing the other knights join him and that the merchant seems unhurt, Quin lets Etienne trot up the side of the road to stamp and snort until the excitement has passed, trusting to the trees behind to make his outline less tempting for a disgruntled shot. He guides his horse about to trot tamely back, casting a look of concern at Guy examining his hunter's hoof and one of swift, blank trust to William's guarding stance. He shifts his coif back, presenting a halo of fair hair ruffled like that of a boy fresh from hunting amongst bramble thickets.

"It might be as well for 'Melisande' to send the cart by the long road next time, and hire mules like our mountain folk for anything she wants to move quietly - this is hard going, between towns," Quin advises, though there's no blame to the stranger in his tone. He gives another glance about before seeking his charges amongst their party to check that all is well.

After checking his mount's feet, Guy trotted up to join the party. "Those cursed brigands grow ever more bold" he growled, a black scowl writ over his normally friendly face. "I would love to hunt them to their lair, but this is not the time.

"Good merchant, are you well? I suggest you ride with us. We may have to leave you behind at some point, for we are in some haste, but for the moment we can provide an escort."

He turned and rode a short distance back and waved to the rest of the entourage to catch up.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Tue 21 Nov 2023.

"Perhaps his lordship Guy ought extract a toll of his own for saving this wretches hide..." William grumbles to Quin, flashes a smirk of contempt at the merchant and then rides to join up at Guy's waved command.

Guy trotted over to join Quintillan as the rest of the baggage train got under way to catch up.

"You have been talking a lot with Jehanne. It seems she has relaxed somewhat and is talking readily to you. Have you learned anything of interest?"

A brief twitch of a frown crosses Quin's brow at Will's remark, but he replies without any drop in warmth or humour: "No doubt his mistress or partner in this business sent him this way out of ignorance or the gambling urge to win through at high odds," he returns, scanning amongst their retinue for the cook and hopefully Guilliame and Jehanne with her. It's clear to William that no thought of surety fraud or supplying of bandits by some town accomplice crosses through that ruffled head, despite the sudden cowardice of hired guards.

"Had he more left to him, surely my lord Roquefixade would have had some present of it..." he begins, but then that man draws nigh them with a query that brings the 'thinking' frown briefly back, sorting through what confidences were right to share.

"She told me her father is in much the same condition as she, but feverish, as she is not. By her description I was afraid it was the Rage, but he takes water and seems to lie quiet on his bed, though he has changed in appearance as I have heard tell happens sometimes to the possessed. There are witnesses to the place he was found with his long scratch. As for the maiden herself, she fears the builders as a group but holds no grudge against them that might be fanned to a killing desire; the influence laid on her was strong, as though she were entirely displaced from herself."

"She can pray," he adds after a moment, "-though she trips over her words and I do not know if she is confirmed. I was asking whether a priest or holy one of the heretics had seen her father when we came upon the man in distress."


[Private to William FitzAlan: Perhaps surprisingly to William, the mention of heretics is very neutral, like they're just another religious order around here (feel free to call Quin on it if you like)]

Guy raised his eyebrows. "That is interesting about her father. We must discover more about how he came to be scratched, and where and when. It does seem that their home is the first place we must call.

"Tell me, the other man who pushed the man from a bridge, a youth you said, did he have any similar scratches? What of this "curious disease" affecting the workers at the castle, have they been examined by a physician?"

Quin gives a quiet "Hm," that might be assent, but is pensive. "Her mother did not want the tale cast abroad," he mentions, refocusing on Guy as the questions continue.

"Not on his hands or face, but I saw no more than that. Of the sickness, I only heard yesterday: I do not know who has been treating them. It was not known to the masons and other workers on site that their quarrymen were falling ill," he responds with care.

"Heretics?" William says and perks up. "Surely they stick to the shadows and don't spread their bastardizations of the holy word in this land, Quin? Perhaps this sickness you speak of is their doing, or rogue gypsies as Guy made mention of, or scorned jews."

He sits atop his horse, fiddling with the leather of the reins, unnerved a bit at the further mention of this ailment that seemingly drives the afflicted to murder wantonly.

Quin gives a slight shrug. "It might be so, or simply witches...the heretics of the cult from Albi go about and preach in the fields and in the vinyards and the peasants listen to them, so it's rare to find a village where no-one is hereticated."

He considers what he knows of Cathar belief. "They believe Our Lord was made of air when He walked in flesh, I think, and so shun the sacrament...but if they do little good beside their love of labour, they do little harm. The ones they consider holy will not even kill a beast or bird to eat, and live on plants and cheese and bread."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:38, Sat 25 Nov 2023.

Guillame and Jehanne are offered to sit beside the driver and the trio of fighting men, led by Guy, form a protective shield around the grateful merchant and his wagon as the continue along the path, the rest of the entourage trailing behind with the guards from Roquefixade forming the rearguard. Guy and Quins steeds display a restrained eagerness as they navigate the winding road towards the town of Saint Volusien.

The air is filled with the sounds of birdsong and the rhythmic hooves of the horses, echoing through the mountainous terrain. The sun casts dappled shadows through the trees, creating a play of light and shade that dances across the uneven road. As they approach Saint Volusien, the town comes into view, nestled amidst the hills. The cobbled streets of the town are alive with the hustle and bustle of townsfolk going about their business. Guy guide the merchant's wagon through the narrow streets, acknowledging the curious glances and welcoming nods from the townspeople.

Upon reaching the town square, the merchant expresses his gratitude, bids his rescuers farewell and sets off towards his mistresses' warehouse.

It is a few hours past midday.

OOC: Not strictly by the rules but everyone is awarded 5 growth points! I really like what you've been doing with what little I've given you so far.

"Farewell and go with God!" Guy bade the merchant adieu.

He reined back to join Jehenne. "Mademoiselle, we need to go to your residence first. Can you please guide us. I understand you want as little attention as possible, and we will do what we can but it will be what it will be."

"Quintillian, William, Cook, Brother Tuck, Normina with me."

"Guards, could you take the wagon to the manor of La Seignereuse. Give my respects to the seneschal and tell him to expect us this afternoon. We will join you as we can."

Thanks Ref!
This message was last edited by the player at 08:18, Tue 28 Nov 2023.

Quin had spent much of the journey trying to demonstrate to William FitzAlan that his homeland had more to offer travellers than a chronic infestation of heresy, mysterious diseases and a risk of paying road tax to footpads - troubadours, relics, fine wine and thyme cakes, for instance - and gently attempting to bring Will to the topic of Aragon and below, keenly interested in his travels and crusading ventures. The merchant is likewise quizzed a little on where he's been and commended to God on parting.

On receiving the order to take a small procession to a peasant dwelling, Quin simply nods and helps Jehanne back onto the borrowed palfrey. "Fear not, whatever passes," he tries to assure her, softly. "I gave my word to protect thee, and protection thou shalt have."

He says some word to his strange little page before remounting, [Private to Guillaume: that Guilliame is welcome to follow and to slip away if they pass his neighbourhood, and here's a denier as wages for his temporary employment/kidnap ]and reins his high-piled thunderhead of a horse back to remain at Jehanne's side as they progress. The knight takes the situation seriously, and rides with all the steady gravitas of escorting a maiden who has had some holy vision, not a prisoner who had killed a man.


[[Yay ad hoc points!]]