[Game Thread] Part 1: Cold Reception

[Aeternis]

Gavril leaves the bandit splayed out in the freezing mud. Injured by the fall but not incapacitated, the man is probably still capable of causing harm, but the undead nobleman hears his hurried, squelching departure even as he sprints back to the lights of the carriage.

The now riderless horse of the third bandit, the man Gavril unhorsed, trots nervously to a halt until the slowed carriage passes it, then suddenly turns to follow the familiar scent of its fellows. When Gavril sprints forward to rejoin the fight, it nearly collides with him, and in alarm the animal rears up, swinging its hooves defensively, clearly terrified. With a sudden turn, the animal darts off into the swamp, splashing into the shallow, frozen water below heedlessly. It will almost certainly bog down and freeze to death, but Gavril's scent has driven it into a blind panic in which escaping has overridden even the instinct of self-preservation.

As Carramina pulls her horse into a disengaging dash ahead, ducking past the bandit's skillfully-wielded pike, a pair of crossbow bolts zip from the carriage toward the injured outlaw. Both find their mark, and the man reels in his saddle, clearly approachinig the end of his endurance. With a guttural cry of frustration (perhaps as much at his own unreliable riders as with the resilience of his quarry), the bandit pulls his horse into a tight turn and, kicking it cruelly, spurs a gallop in the opposite direction. As he passes the carriage, the man's grimace of pain and hatred is visible to Haytham, Cordula, and Gavril. His enchantment-pacified associate, even despite the effects of the charm, wheels and follows - even through the magic clouding his thoughts, the rider knows that to remain when his leader departs is suicidal.

With the withdrawal of the brigands, there is nothing to prevent the small group of travellers from reaching the village a mere hundred and fifty yards ahead. A pair of lights on either side of the road illuminate an open, arched wooden gate stretching between two buildings - the village does not have an enclosing wall or palisade, despite the dangers of the swampland. There are several figures gathered under that archway, watching the commotion on the road.

 

OODM Encounter over. Both remaining mounted bandits turned around and pushed their horses into run actions in the opposite direction. Gavril might be able to make a parting shot at the two mounted bandits if he runs after them, but after that they're probably out of range (they can make 200 feet per round on their light horses, even if they have to cause damage to the animals to do it, but the leader was 50 feet ahead of the carriage when he started, so they're only about 125 feet away from the rear of the carriage at the beginning of the round). Haytham can also make a shot if he hops off the carriage to get line of sight (he has rapid reload), but he won't bother unless ordered to do so - he'd much rather get the carriage rolling toward safety. Each PC gains 225 experience.

[Aethera]

Mina raced onward, hearing the bandit's shout but unsure she wanted to look behind to see what it had in store for her. Eventually, however, when she ceased to hear the noises of his horse in pursuit, she did chance a quick look back. It took her a few seconds to process the absence of the bandit, her tired brain not knowing what to do with the unexpected sight of the carriage between her and retreating bandits. When at last it did sink in, Mina slowed her galloping horse to save the poor mare any incremental tiers of fatigue possible. She could see the carriage's driver didn't seem unduly alarmed, so waiting till they're all within the town seems like soon enough to stop and check on the city-folk.

She slowed Ebony down to a walk a few horselengths before the townfolk spectators, but wasn't keen to stop until she had passed the wooden arch. "Take it easy, Ebony," she murmured to the mare, which clearly was the worse for the day's activities. When (outside the town if they stop her, otherwise within)she stopped, she wearily slid off her horse, grabbing the saddle to keep herself from falling over when she landed poorly in the icy mud. Mina took a moment to gather herself and curb the irritated comments she might make at the townsfolks' expense. Yes, I'll survive, no thanks to you, she thought at them instead of saying it aloud. To give herself a few moments more, she also walked a circuit around the mare, checking the panting horse for damage.

"Do you have a place we could rest?" she asks the nearest local person once her face and voice are unlikely to betray her, indicating her horse with a jerky nod. "She deserves a warm oat mash and a dry stable after the day I've had."

She looked next at the carriage, unsure what to say to them. They'd been the target, after all, she might have been saved the trouble if she'd left them to their fate. But the bandits were her problem, the rational side of her argued, as the leader of the small group of mercenaries who had taken on the job. Finally a nod was about the best she could offer the driver, just acknowledging his assistance toward the end there. One of the city dwellers from inside the carriage had warded off the majority of the bandits early on, she thought, but as she didn't know who, she would refrain from commenting on it. Spellcasters weren't always welcomed into small towns with open arms, so it might serve them better to have it left unsaid.

 

OOC Yay for Mina surviving! That might've been my shortest-living PC otherwise. Carramina, Feywild Bard/Oracle HP 7/39 -- AC 22, DR 5/cold iron -- composite longbow +10/+5 (d8+3, 110')

[Humble Athena]

Gavril rushed towards the carriage, fearing the worst for his servants, but he is pleasantly surprised to see the bandits turning back in defeat. He slid a hand into his sleeve, gripping the handle of the longer knife hidden there and preparing to send them on with a vengeful strike, but they didn't pass close enough. He removed his hand and waved Cor forward- he trusted she would let Haytham know to continue on. He wanted the carriage safely in the village if the bandits decided to regroup.

For his part, there was just a little something to retrieve. He retraced his steps at a light jog, eyes studying the ground for the glint of the knife he'd thrown. In the end, it was a faint trace of blood that drew his attention to the thin blade. He picked it up and ran his finger along the side, then sampled the residue. Bland. He had not expected better from the likes of them. It irked him some, that he'd had one of them in his hand and let him get away, but he had no doubt that greed would drive the fools to pursue the carriage again. He need only wait and prepare. Perhaps it was even for the best- sustenance was not always easily available in the outer lands, especially with the frost come early. In a few days, he would welcome them to try again.

He jogged back towards his carriage, slowing several paces before catching up. There was more blood in the air, but he did not think it came from Haytham and knew it was not Cor's. That left their mysterious assistant, the girl on the horse. He supposed it would only do to find a chance to introduce himself.

[Talula3ll3n]

Elizabeta smiled smugly as she watched the bandits retreat with their tails between their legs, shaking her head as she hears a horse’s fearful dash. ”Must have met Gav.” With the fading sounds of the horses gallop, Elizabeta realized that Bertram has been absent for the entire encounter. She had allowed him to go hunting whilst they were on the last stretch of the journey. She hadn’t expected a battle, though perhaps she should have. Elizabeta closed her eyes briefly, sending out a feeling of urgency to the bird to hopefully hail him home.

Catching the gesture from her guardian, the woman moved forward and peered through the opening at the front of the carriage to let Haytham know to continue forward to the village. As she did so, she caught glimpse of the pitch-colored raven. He perched on the seat next to Hay, tilting his head at Elizabeta. ”About time you showed up, Bertram,” she chided as she moved back into the body of the carriage.

She noticed the other woman slow her poor horse and dismount once inside the village. Elizabeta listened as she asked for a place to rest for them and their creatures and noted that this woman was quite injured. She would have to make sure Gavril behaved himself… but she was also incredibly curious as to who this woman was and what had found her fighting along side them.

 

HP: 33/33

[Aeternis]

Carramina and her horse reach the town's gate first, and she dismounts in the pool of flickering light from a pair of lanterns carried by the townsfolk. Three of them bear pikes, leather coats, and brimmed metal helmets, but the remainder of the group is lightly armed if armed at all, their diversity of garb suggesting that they are little more than curious townsfolk whose eveninig routine was interrupted by the drama outside the gate. Nobody moves to threaten Carramina as she dismounts, but it would be rude in the extreme to push her horse through the small crowd, which does not part on her approach.

A single middle-aged man dressed marginally better than the other townsfolk steps forward to greet Carramina. His thick eyebrows, bristly mustache and square jaw give him a stern look, and he's clearly used to having people listen to him when he talks. An ornately engraved baton hanging from his belt seems to be a badge of office more than a weapon. "Welcome to Ruthgow, such as it is." The man offers a hand to help Carramina, seeing her heavily wounded state. "Ober, go find the doctor." This last seems to be directed back at the onlookers, and sure enough, one of them hurries back into the village. "We'll find you someplace to rest."

As Haytham, Elizabeta, and Gavril also arrive at the gate, the stern local snaps a quick and very old-fashioned salute to Gavril, probably recognizing his family signet. The three militia pikemen, seeing this, come to attention as well, though sloppily and in vastly less practiced form. Most likely, they only know military customs secondhand. "Not often we get visitors of your standing out here, sir. Welcome to Ruthgow. I'm Foche Bauden." He offers no title, just his name, but his position here is clear from the deference of the villagers and militia - title or no, Bauden is the closest thing the little village has to a mayor or a sheriff. "As much as Ruthgow is honored by your visit, I must advise you leave at dawn." With a wave of his hand, Bauden parts the gaggle of curious villagers, and leads the travellers, horses, and carriage into the village proper. The road becomes a cobbled street on the other side of the archway, and the carriage's damaged rear axle groans as it bounces over the roughly laid stones. A few more curious villagers peek out of doors and windows in the gloom, but the streets are empty, save for Bauden, the militiamen, and the travelers.

"Carriage'll need some work, boss." Haytham points out, though the vehicle's damage is only too apparent by the the protest of damaged parts. "If we leave at dawn, we won't get far before that rear axle gives out."

"I don't mean to worry you, sir." Bauden stops, and turns to face Gavril, bringing the whole procession to a halt. "But you aren't safe here. The bandits are bad enough, but there is a worse peril." The stern local pauses, as if it's difficult to even speak of. "This town has been beset in recent months by what I fear can only be a vampire. As long as you stay here, you are in peril."

 

OODM Baudin recognized that Gavril is of noble birth, but he probably doesn't recognize Gavril's family specifically. He probably assumes that a nobleman will be very generous for the village's hospitality. Oh, also. The plot thickens.

[Aethera]

Carramina gives the elder a nod before she speaks, knowing protocol could make or break her night here, as it might any settlement in the wild lands of the Inheritance."Thank you. Rest, yes, doctor no," she tried to interrupt, but the man was already gone. "I'm a medic myself," she elaborated, but the town elder type was already focused on the more important citydwellers. Figures, she thought to herself as she, too, spotted the family signet on Gavril's finger. He could fight at least a little, which was more than she could say of some of the stodgy nobles she'd seen, but the signet made him less likely to speak to her as far as she was concerned. Ebony blew at her mistress, earning an affectionate pat as the mercenary took the mare's reins. "You need rest as well, dear," she murmured to the horse quietly.

She waited with ill grace while the village elder greeted the carriage and went through the motions of welcome even as he told them they should leave at dawn. Great hospitality, guy. She refused to be polite to the man in her thoughts if he was ready to kick wounded travelers out without enough time to get real rest, let alone heal. When he finally decided they could enter the town, she led Ebony through the parting crowd, feeling every step on cobblestone ache up her legs.

She was about to say something less than tactful when he stopped all of a sudden and explained why he was trying to get them to leave. The mercenary straightened in an abrupt move, breathing, "Benisse-mi al salutem. Donne la sante." She took a breath, glancing down at herself, and repeated the words. "Donne la sante!" She ran a finger down her forehead and nose with two fingers then made a gesture like a child might with 'cross my heart' using the same fingers. She didn't look any less bloody, but the wounds closed and most of the ache that had dragged her down no longer weighed heavily on her. "A vampire that prefers to hunt villagers when there are a couple dozen bandits living in the wilds just outside? I doubt it, but if you show me a place where my horse can rest, I can unpack some of my gear. I'm alone, but even without my usual comrades I can at least do something to help."

 

OOC Casting Cure Moderate Wounds rather than waiting to heal. First cast +17hp, second cast +11hp for a total of 35 hp. Assuming it takes a few moments to truly kick in, but if she can get away with casting it twice while she's standing there, we can get on our way to whatever mess you've cooked up for us. Carramina, Feywild Bard/Oracle HP 35/39 -- AC 22, DR 5/cold iron -- composite longbow +10/+5 (d8+3, 110')

[Humble Athena]

Though Gavril had slowed his pace, his long legs carried him into the village quickly enough. He nodded at the greeting from Bauden, though his eyebrow arched at the warning. Most were not quite so forward when trying to turn him away. "Your welcome is appreciated, Bauden, and I promise my people and I will not unduly tax your village's resources." He turned his head to question his manservant. "How long do you anticipate the repair will take?"

The mention of 'vampire' was enough to bring the pale nobleman's attention sharply back to the mayor-by-any-other-name, and to his half-boiled peasant soldiers. This changed things significantly. They were nervous, and were wise to be so, but did not seem suspicious- yet. It would not be wise to linger and give them the chance to draw conclusions. And yet, the carriage did need repairs, or they would surely be at the mercy of the bandits once they left. He could only do so much to protect his frail human servants.

And what of this other? He had not had much contact with his own kind, and none within the Inheritance, not since... Could it be she? When she had first turned him, her presence had filled his mind, but after so many years, would he still know if she where near? Most likely it was not, and in any case it was too early to get his hopes, or his fears, up. "Well." he responded, finally, pressing hands together. "If true, that is certainly a dire circumstance to find ourselves in, and you have my sympathies for the hardships you must have endured in that time. Still, I can only think we would be safer in the company of others at least, among greater numbers, than we would be if we were to break down on the road." He glanced up at the pikes, searching for the gleam of silver on the weapons, though he would be quite surprised if a little village of this sort were able to craft or purchase weapons of the necessary magical grade to cut the skin of his brethren. "I must confess that, as a would-be scholar, I have read something of these creatures- What makes you suspect that one is about, and how do you intend to combat the fiend?"

When the mercenary woman spoke, it drew his attention back. She doubted, but did not fear. Curious. Dangerous. She was right; it was possible there was no vampire... no other vampire. It would be a great irony if the weight of false suspicions fell upon him. He would need a watchful eye on her to be certain that did not occur. But first, there was an obligation due. "Ma'am. You could have abandoned us to the bandits at any time along the road. Instead, you escorted us nearly all the way here. You are as courageous as you are lovely, and we may very well owe you our lives. Please, while we both remain here, I hope you will consider your debts to be mine. Speak with my ward, Cordula, if you have any expenses."

 

Obviously, Gavril is assuming a few gold tops, for provisions and lodging. He doesn't think the village has anything too expensive lying around for Mina to buy

[Aethera]

Dire circumstance... Mina's tired brain repeated as the nobleman spoke. The only up side to this was that she didn't repeat it aloud with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Not only was this a well-spoken city-dweller, but... oh great. A 'would-be scholar'. Not even granting himself the benefit of calling himself a 'real' scholar. Scholars had, on not entirely rare occasions, come up with useful tidbits of knowledge. Knowledge was how she performed her job against creatures which had faded into legend and jumping at shadows territory. It was not as if every cracked village auntie's tales told of useful methods of combating the creatures.

So lost in her mental tirade about her available resources here in this tiny town was she, that when the man turned and spoke to her, her brain almost failed to process it. When her brain succeeded, however, this earned him her full attention for the first time. She had been up for well over a day at this point, healing spells or not, so her attempts to make it seem like tactful observation may not have succeeded against someone used to the tiny nuances of social mincing. Mina had predicted that the man would not speak to her, he being a nobleman and she a bloody and filthy commoner, and that he didn't conform to her usually-accurate first impression sense earned him new interest. The compliments she took with a fistful of salt, given the prettier manners of the cities, but it was a good step up from where she'd pegged him.

"On the contrary, you would have managed." She gave him a smile and nod of recognition even as her mind was skipping back to this talk of a vampire. "I doubt I'll have much in the way of expenses, given I won't be looking for bed or meal until after I've scouted the town, if then, but I can pay my own way. Thank you for the kindness, though." Her eyes remained with the nobleman for a second more then touched on his two companions before returning to the town elder, hoping for his replies to the various questions asked.

 

OOC I'm doing my best to walk the fine line between Mina's monster hunting ways and metagaming my desire to not get into it with Gav before we've even established a tiny measure of trust between them. If any of you think I'm overdoing it (in either direction), do kick me, please. I'm going with "she's too tired to do this the most efficient way" for now, and will leave the deathwatch lenses in her pouch. If we can establish anything at all (even just distance from curious locals) before this comes crashing down around our ears, that'd be nice. Carramina, Feywild Bard/Oracle HP 35/39 -- AC 22, DR 5/cold iron -- composite longbow +10/+5 (d8+3, 110')

[Humble Athena]

Gavril inclined his head slightly in the mercenary's direction. "The kindness was yours, but as you wish. If you should change your mind, the offer will stand for as long as we remain." He hesitated, about to say more. But whatever words would have come remain silent as he allowed her to have her way with nothing more than a contemplative expression.

[Talula3ll3n]

Elizabeta stepped out of the carriage and smoothed her skirts, nodding to Bertram. Cor & Bertram can communicate telepathically.Stay with Haytham. She Perception Check = 32looked around at the villagers, smiling as their lawman hailed her guardian. It always amused her how Gavril could go from feral to finesse in the blink of an eye.

She moved towards their fellow rider to give a formal introduction of herself. Elizabeta alerted the woman’s mare to her presence with a gentle hand to the rump, slowly moving forward, extending a hand. ”Pleasure to make your acquaintance Madame. I am Elizabeta DeVeyra, ward of Gavril Dulmaric. Thank you for your assistance with those bandits. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

She was about to say more when Bauden uttered the word vampire. She excused herself from the woman and turned to face the sheriff, listening to his warnings. She moved to Gavril’s side, smiling warmly at Bauden. ”We appreciate your warnings Sir, however, we do need the time to fix the carriage proper. And I am sure we all could use the rest. You won’t even know we are here.”

 

OOC It may not be my best work, but I didn't want to make y'all wait anymore.

[Aeternis]

As both Carramina and Gavril express interest in the vampire phenomenon, Bauden nods gravely. "I thought it was unlikely as well, but... well, let's get you all indoors." Bauden points right at a "T" intersection, down a narrow road which, in the capitol, would be considered only an alley. "The manor house was re-purposed to serve travelers a long time ago." The building in question comes into view as soon as the group has rounded the bend - a three-story, two-winged structure on the south end of town, set on the highest point of the low hill which serves as Ruthgow's foundation. The structure is obviously old imperial stonework, but its roof is newer, rougher work. A few of the windows are lit, and all the smoke-stacks are billowing clouds of wood-smoke.

When asked about how long it would take to fix the carriage, Haytham shrugs and shakes his head. He probably won't know that until after he's able to look at the damage more closely.

 

Elizabeta: Perception Success Elizabeta keeps her eyes on the move, looking for little details that might be danger signs. The village doesn't really impress much - like the manor house at its southern edge, the village seems to be largely older construction which has been repaired with low-grade materials and shoddy craftsmanship. While the buildings vary slightly in size and style, their construction is fairly uniform. The lower walls of most buildings are field stones and mortar, but the upper walls are of lighter materials - some sort of plaster paneling over a wooden frame seems to have been the original material, but most walls are replaced with gray-weathered wooden boards, many of which are warped and rotted. Most of the roofs are made of something similar to thatch, though more uniform than most thatch Elizabeta has seen elsewhere. In many cases it seems to still be partially alive, with green shoots growing from it in bushy clusters. From the smell, Elizabeta can tell that the village's sanitation situation is at best marginal - most likely, rubbish and waste is simply dropped into the swamp just beyond the town's outer edge. Only about three out of four buildings in the village seem to be occupied - those that are not are in significantly worse repair, often with caved-in roofs and collapsed wall panels. Elizabeta estimates that no more than thirty families live in Ruthgow, making it significantly smaller than the last town. The outer walls of most buildings have also been reinforced and extended, forming most of a roughly triangular perimeter wall. Waist-high field-stone walls stretch in all the gaps which the road doesn't cover, but since the village's buildings crowd close together, the only significant stretch of this paltry defensive line is near the old manor house itself.

The group splits up just inside of the old stone archway of the manor grounds, which now stands devoid of a gate, with two of the pikemen leading Carramina and Haytham, and through them their horses and the carriage, off toward a low-ceilinged stable. Elizabeta and Gavril, led by Bauden himself, enter the main bulk of the manor. For Gavril, the inside is surreal - The old manor is not too different from others he has visited in his unnaturally long life, but the front hall has been repurposed, bearing all the trappings and smells of a provincial commons hall. A pair of black iron stoves heat the wide space, with dented pipes directing most of the smoke up and out, but that doesn't seem to prevent a smoky, hazy atmosphere. The fuel stacked next to each stove seems to be blocks of peat, not wood, and a scattering of long tables and benches turns the open floor into a labyrinth. Somewhere, food is being cooked, and the smell is greasy and slightly unsavory.

Of the original pair of staircases that would have arched gracefully down on both sides of the large space, only one remains. To this, Bauden gestures. "Ask one of the girls for Coby Jonker. He'll do his best to make you and your subordinates comfortable, Master Dulmoric." With that directive, and a vague promise to be back in a moment, Bauden vanishes back outside into the cold.

Carramina and Haytham find the stable's entrance too low to admit the carriage. The place is, however, entirely empty, and by the look and smell it has been for some time. Leading Carramina's horse and the two carriage horses in one by one, the pair are not assisted by the two militia-men who guided them - the only part those two play is to light a few lanterns and hang them from hooks in the rafters, so low that Haytham has to sidestep to avoid a collision.

"That brigand was a dangerous foe." Haytham says conversationally to the mercenary, as he hauls feed from the carriage in for his own horses. "Thank you for keeping him away from the carriage. One more spear into the wheels and I'd have been driving a hail of matchsticks."

 

OODM I figured I'd add a note to clarify - Bauden didn't answer anyone's questions. Why not? Simple, really. He thinks there's a vampire about, and the sun just set - he's doing everything he can to get all the visitors indoors quickly.

[Talula3ll3n]

It wasn’t as if she and Gavril had never been to towns that were… less than fortunate, but this town seemed the saddest to date. Elizabeta also found the contradiction of Bauden’s manner and attempt at attire to the state of the village humorous, though she would never let that show.

Elizabeta watched as the woman rider and Haytham – with Bertram in tow – forked off, presumably to care for the horses and perhaps make a cursory assessment of the damage to the carriage’s axel. Bauden led herself and Gavril to the Manor. She gives a slight nod to the sheriff as he departed.

”How are you, Gavril? Do you need anything before I locate Mr. Jonker to secure our accommodations?” She breathed deep the scent of whatever was cooking in the main hall. It wasn’t terribly appetizing, but it would do - she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment. Stepping just a touch closer to her patron, lowering her voice so no one but he would hear, ”What do you make of their… other… problem, Gavril?” Elizabeta was, of course, referring to the warning given to them upon their arrival. If only Bauden had known exactly to whom he had given such a cautionary tale.

[Humble Athena]

Gavril nodded, understanding Bauden's desire to get indoors- if only for his servants' sake. He followed, stifling impatience. He wasn't under suspicion as of yet, and it served him best to play the game. He hesitated at the doorway into the former manor, a reflexive instinct, but the threshold no longer held. As they passed, he ran fingertips over the frame, down the wall, as if tasting its age with his skin. More evidence of the land's steady decline.

He shook his head at dear Cor's inquiry. "No, I am in need of nothing at the moment. See to our arrangements, then find Haytham. Until this is resolved, I want you two to remain close. I am certain goodman Bauden will tell us more once that girl gets in here. In any case, we cannot leave until the carriage is repaired, and we have what we came for. We will simply need to tread carefully."

[Aethera]

Carramina found herself too tired to do much more than limp ahead as they were led onward, her body's lingering response to magically healed damage contrary to her swift about-face in behavior when the village elder mentioned the vampire. It was reassuring to be allowed time to attend to Ebony before facing the problem, and she found herself halfway sleepwalking through the process of leading her own mare to one of the more intact stalls and helping the driver of the carriage unhitch his team.

Mina nodded when thanked for her aid, shrugging off much responsibility for the help. "I expect he'll be looking for a rematch yet, I'd best go looking for him when he's not likely to spot me coming." She removed the saddlebags from her mare and hauled a mostly empty backpack from one side before pulling feed for the horse from the other. For a mercenary on the road, she certainly didn't seem to have much in the way of belongings. "Is there anything I can do to help you with the carriage?" she belatedly inquired as the driver worked apace with his team of horses. It did not take a lengthy stretch of imagination to realize she was asking because she felt more kinship with the working class man than his employers and that she felt it was only polite to offer, even if her fatigue at an overlong day already was going to make her less than fully able to do anything. Unsaddling the mare took time she wasn't sure she had, but she was not going to leave her mare hindered in any way with a bloodsucker on the loose. The saddle blanket was unfolded and draped around the mare's withers before she looked around for water.

Only once the mare was fully set for a night which promised to be yet longer for the human woman whose only desire was a bed did Mina shoulder her haversack, leave the stable, and go looking for the other newcomers to Ruthgow in hopes of getting the answers to the questions already asked.

 

OOC I'm going to handwave the search for water for Ebony because we want to get moving onward and I've delayed us enough. I'll try to get my next post up with more speed. Carramina, Feywild Bard/Oracle HP 35/39 -- AC 22, DR 5/cold iron -- composite longbow +10/+5 (d8+3, 110')

[Aeternis]

Haytham nodded vaguely, neither approving of or disapproving of Carramina's expressed intent to sneakily dispose of the bandits' leader. "I'd feel better if those hooligans weren't out there waiting when we left this place." He pointed out as he finished stabling his own beasts and turned his attention to the wagon itself, parked outside the stable. "If you want to help, grab that lantern there." At Haytham's direction, Carramina found herself playing the role of a well-placed iron lamp-post. While she held the light on the damaged wheel and axle, Haytham, lying on his back underneath the carriage, poked at the metal and wood parts with his hands and a small tool from his belt, which seemed to be used for measuring. This procedure was carried out in complete silence - Haytham didn't even mutter or grunt as he worked. The two local militiamen nearby did a fairly convincing impression of Capitol guardsmen, standing stock-still except to shiver in the cold.

About two minutes of dull lamp-stand duty later, Haytham indicated to Carramina that he was done, and pulled himself out from under the vehicle with a nod of thanks. A moment later, Bauden appeared from the lit bulk of the manor-inn. "If you'll follow me, my friends." He gestured, intending to escort the pair back to where Gavril and his ward have been taken to.

Inside, Elizabeta, after verifying that Gavril had no specific needs, followed Bauden's direction, ascending the battered old stairs and finding that the balcony above had consumed the rooms beyond it and become another dining area, heated by yet another of the black iron stoves. The best tables seemed to be set on this upper level, most of them circular and set with four or six chairs. A few quiet groups, probably the town's least impoverished citizens, huddled at the tables nearest the stove, attended by a pair of blonde girls who, even when dressed in plain local homespun clothing and a layer of soot grime, were actually attractive. They were certainly siblings - in fact, Elizabeta wondered if they might be twins.

Noticing the well-dressed ward's arrival, one of the girls set down her tray of empty cups and hurried to greet Elizabeta. Soon enough, Elizabeta was taken to meet Coby Jonker, the proprietor - a burly, overweight, balding man wearing a soiled apron. Jonker looked for a moment to be at risk of cardiac arrest when Elizabeta spoke of accommodations for a nobleman's entourage, even one so reduced as Gavril's, but despite this shock, showed Elizabeta a broad table in a curtained-off corner of the upper seating area before rushing off, serving-girl in tow, leaving Elizabeta to show Gavril and the others to this place.

A bottle of what appeared to be local berry wine and a half-dozen wooden cups, along with a cluster of cheerily burning candles, had appeared on the private table when Elizabeta returned leading the others. Bauden followed this far, though he didn't seat himself - he made a whispered request of the first member of the two-woman wait staff who happened by, then closed the privacy curtain and turned to face Elizabeta, Gavril, Carramina, and Haytham. "You wished to know about our troubles, master Dulmoric, so I have sent for the man who knows them best. Do not feel under any obligation to tackle them yourself - we have a very capable person hunting the scourge already. Brother Voss should be here shortly, to share what he knows."

Damien Voss, Vampire Hunter? For as small and hopeless a place as it was at first glance, Damien Voss had found a lot to like about Ruthgow, even if it was the hunting ground of an undead, life-draining horror. For all its poverty and isolation, Damien found the village quite susceptible to his charms, and only too happy to meet his every need. He had arrived shortly before winter's early arrival, hearing rumors of greater trouble in the village than usual. He had found that the villagers were convinced there was a vampire preying upon them - so many of them were becoming pale and thin, as if the blood and energy were being drained from them as they slept. There were no bite-marks on any of the victims, but terrifying, recurring nightmares about being paralyzed in bed while an indistinct form drained their life were quite common, along with other, more unsettling visions. There were waking sightings, too, none of them completely reliable, but the pattern was clear. The monster, from dreams and from sightings, seemed to be the same - roughly the form of a human, with arching, clawed bat-wings, to which shadows seemed to cling like a cloak. The creature, if there was one, seemed to only appear in the darkest hours of the night, and no traces of it remained by day, even in places it had been "sighted." Once a person became a victim, they weakened slowly, losing appetite, energy, and will to live. Obviously, Brother Voss had busied himself in those early days by verifying what he could - none of the villagers, under observation with powerful divining magic, revealed any trace of the monster within themselves, and Voss found evidence that the local bandits, too, feared some creature which stalked in the darkest hours. Obviously, the locals deferred to Voss's greater expertise in the handling of such things. He could of course offer only the usual tactics to repel a vampire - pungent herbs and the like. These seemed to help somewhat - the three earliest victims, bedridden when Voss had arrived, were now on the mend and looking almost healthy again. He was as of yet unable to do anything more - but this small perceived success had made Brother Damien Voss quite popular in Ruthgow. This success also reinforced the idea that the creature was indeed a vampire - or something related. On this particular evening, one of those early, recovering victims, a pretty young woman named Ida Saunders, occupied Damien's attention most completely. She had rebounded quickly, probably due to her youth and natural energy - quickly enough that Damien had decided it woulds be all right to direct her gratitude toward a clandestine "check-up" at his headquarters room in the manor-inn. By sunset, Ida had succumbed to Damien's advances, and the pair was intimately entangled, all pretense of checking on Ida's progress long since discarded, along with most garments. When Ida gasped and stiffened in Damien's arms, though, it was not in the manner which he had been hoping. "Mmm, Damien, dear, am I interrupting?" The voice issued from Ida's lips, but it was the cultured, accented voice Voss knew from someone else. With a shock, Damien realized that Ida's eyes, formerly a deep brown, had turned a vivid blue-green color which only one person he'd ever met - a certain Garnet - possessed. Using Damien's shock to extract herself from his embrace, Ida/Garnet took a moment to examine her own largely unclothed body. "Hmph. You can do better than this, Damien." Garnet scolded playfully, with a lopsided smile which seemed completely out of place on Ida's younger, rounder face. "Don't worry, she'll remember you treating her the way you meant to. We have business to discuss, dear. A nobleman and his entourage just arrived in this town, and among them is a very dangerous person. Would you do a girl a favor and keep an eye on them? Perhaps find out what they're doing?" Garnet slid out of the bed and stood, going to the window to look outside, heedless of the possibility that someone outside would see her borrowed body unclothed. "I think this chore will be to your liking. You might even trick them into helping you with your other problem." Garnet gestured for Damien to glance out the window, and when he did, he saw a carriage, escorted by a cluster of walking figures, approaching the manor-inn along the cobbled road, still too distant in the gloom of dusk to see in detail. "Here they come now. Get dressed - the townsman will call for you soon." With a softer, almost kind sort of smile, Garnet brushed past Damien teasingly and eased Ida's body back into the bed. "We'll talk again soon. Kiss the girl goodnight, Damien. It's time to go to work now." When he leaned over the bed to oblige, however, he found Ida peacefully asleep, breathing deeply, apparently unharmed by Garnet's brief intrusion. Almost as soon as Damien had dressed, a knock came at the door, just as Garnet had predicted. "Brother Voss, Mister Bauden is requesting your presence at dinner to discuss the vampire problem." The timid voice was one of Jonker's twin daughters, but it was impossible to tell which.

After Bauden announced that a local expert on the vampire problem would arrive shortly, Haytham spoke up, delivering a verdict on the carriage as promised. "Boss, I took a look at the damage. The axle is a bit bent, and one of the brackets pulled loose and splintered one of the frame beams. I can fix it in a day or two as long as I can borrow some tools and find some strong wood. Until then, we're not going anywhere."

 

OODM Enter Damien Voss, the local largely self-appointed expert on vampire hunting. The girl at his door will bring Damien to the curtained private table, so you may execute all introductions that you deem necessary. I'll pop in with Bauden's responses to questions when I can, but my next full update will probably not be until you are done interrogating each other. Food will also be delivered - mostly standard poor-town inn fare, spiced for the benefit of wealthy patrons to conceal its mediocrity.