Revision as of 01:19, 1 September 2016

Participants

• Angus
• Bazalt
• Fenris
• Kurah
• Leonidas
• Sabriel
• Shira

Date

31/8/479

Log

Within the village itself the cleanup is still underway, beings in rugged leather clothing working to pull the dead out from the open as cries come from the cages. "Shut up you!" Snaps Biggs, the big ram giving a glare at some of the villagers, before turning to Sabriel. "I still think we should just kill them and loot em."

Kurnoc, for the most part was silent and kept to himself on the trip, looking over reports-checking his various weapons and..keeping hidden under his rather large cloak. "so... silent, no news or Information from the village?" the wolf sighs. "This sounds dreadful-how do people just.. vanish?.." he sighs again, mumbling something to himself afterwards. as he gets out of teh cart he looks down the path and then pulls his hood up to block the rain. "well then...Are we all ready?" he asks.

Fenris hops lightly down from his place by the driver. "Try to stay warm, Damien," the tiger tells the ox as his shimmering otter golem leaps down after him, "We will be back soon." The heavy rain patters off his long, heavy coat and strange uniform as he looks up the hill. "No time like the present," he says pleasantly, striding away, his golem frolicing at his heels, "Come on Kurnoc! Angus promised you could keep up!"

Shira hops off the wagon and groans. The small mouse has pulled a leather coat over her armored clothing to help fend off the rain, but it was still annoying. At least her targets are likely to be wet if it comes to a fight. Her fingers drum silently on the hilt of her sword. "Yeah, yeah. As ready as I am gonna get, so lets get it over with."

Sabriel looks exasperated, to say the least of it. His armor is splattered with blood and his face bears a grim, heavy expression, though after he runs a gauntleted palm over it, he adopts stone cold clarity. "As much as I'm sure it would please you," he murmurs, no small amount of disdain for the ram's bloodlust seeping into his tone, "we cannot simply crack open their skulls to take what we want from their minds." He gazes across the village, acknowledging his place in space and time for the first time in what felt like years. Still... "Bring out the tribute, please. They'll be here soon." He sighs softly and turns his attention back to the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Assuming this whole kingdom isn't blind and deaf."

"People vanish, sir, when someone does not want them to be found." Leonidas replies in a low rasp, a hint of what may be amusement entering his voice. "We are quite surprised such a shady individual as youself would not be aware of this; hiding one's appearance is often a... Useful start in being unnoticed, after all." The glint of worn but well-kept metal shines from his knife, the olm inspecting the blade with an implacable dispoition before it disappears back into its hiding place. "Bloodlust always did lead to an early grave for your kind. We do not understand your zeal."

Kurah scoots to the edge of the wagon and pulls his cloak over himself tight, bits of metal rattling underneath as he hops out. "Wishful thinking, thinking this will be quick." he replies, shielding his eyes from the rain and looking around, giving a low whistle. "People vanishing is one thing, villages vanishing is... something else entirely."

It's quiet, to quiet. Not even the creatures of the woods are heard as the path leads to...barricades, hastly erected wooden barricades that look to have been torn down, blood slowly being washed off the hard wood from the heavy rain. Weapons lay scattered to and fro, the mud churned up from many boots but there are no bodies visible as buildings start to become visible, single floor thatched homes erected to keep the weather at bay.

Biggs grunts, waving a hand at a few of the bandits with them to come close. "Head to church, grab the presents we saved." He mutters to them, grabbing the ear of the Ferret he was talking to and making sure to pull just enough for it to ache. "And if I find a scratch on them you'll lose more then an eye today."

"yes, I know, right away, sir" Kurnoc speaks, in reply to fenris, padding along after him. "There's a diffrence between one being wanting to hide and an entire village vanishing. " he nods, Frownigna s they get closer. "My-this looks wonderful." the wolf Grabs a dagger under his Cloak, watching around carefuly. "Anything you'd Like me to do, Fenris, sir?" he asks, alert.

"Spread out, move quickly," Fenris instructs, slowing at the ruined barracades, "Don't make the first move." The tiger's eyes scan the area. "Last time I saw a town like this they had all been taken by the Craige. The time before, by shadows. . ."

Shira squints at the three beings with her. "Are you all some kind of team or something like that?" The rodent picks up one of the smaller weapons that are laying around, inspecting it for a moment. The casual inspection does not take long and she redirects her attention to the surrounding area, especially the village before them, squinting ahead as she walks.

Sabriel plants the tip of his blade in the dirt and mud, resting his hands on the pommel and gazing over the rainy horizon in waiting. He closes his eyes and lets the rain beat down on him, feels it against his face, listens to the sound it makes hammering into the boiled leather plates of his armor. For a moment, he's gone, somewhere else, somewhere better and further away from here. Much further, indeed. He rolls his shoulders and shakes himself back to reality, looking over to the cages and the terrified beings inside, then to Biggs. He gives his Heavy clan compatriot a very appraising look, as though re-evaluating his worth for what must be the hundredth time just today. "Please ensure that none of the more powerful... mathematicians, such as they are, are mingling with the rest of the cabal." He pauses, remembering something important. "You did have them checked for quills, of course...?"

"Villages vanishing is not unachievable nor unheard of either. Surely you must remember the shadow war? Perhaps Heartfall? Or any of the number of your frontier towns to have been cut off and lost over time. Recall, if you would, this entire planet 'disappeared' as well." Leonidas replies to the Raven and Wolf with a predatory grin. "Our people were most adept at snuffing out small villages, erasing them from the map overnight. Do you believe your kind are any less capable of such? It is all a matter of planning, and knowing your target. Such an enterprising being as the one to orchestrate this sort of attack would, of course, be quite... An asset. Ambition and cunning are qualities too many of your kind lack in concert, we have found. Content with mediocrity, disbelieving their ability to learn. We can only imagine it comes with your... Transience." Still wearing the same predatory grin, the olm silences himself and slinks along, seemingly shifting between shadows.

Shira's assertion is met with little more than a smirk. "Maybe. You may make that judgment for yourself." Pulling the hood of his own cloak over his head, water pattering off the oilskin garment (not that he seemed to care about the rain much to begin with), he takes his bow in hand and nocks an arrow with a look of mild distaste. The weapon more reminiscent of something the church would issue than a shadow would pick up for use, should anyone choose to examine it more closely. The olm remains silent, observing the area, the others and waiting for any movement to track.

Kurah's eyes narrow as they fall from the barricades to the blood being rinsed away into the mess of mud and fallen weapons before them, kicking a hilt on the way by and quietly reaching beneath his vest to fiddle with his necklace. "Do me a favor and don't explain what the Craige is." He runs his fingers along the barricade, looking it over briefly before moving past - slowly and cautiously, one hand on the hilt of his saber. The raven looks back in the mouse's direction and shakes his head. "Not I. I'm a Freesword who likes to travel, nothing more. Have to say, this... isn't really what I had in mind when I heard a pleasant name like 'Whitefeather' though."

Angus The town is a ghost, not a single soul visible within view as the silence seems to take hold of the place. If one where to take a peak in the buildings as they pass they'll see them upheaveled, dinner still sitting on the table as if whoever attacked did so right as the poor beings were sitting down for supper.

Biggs snorts, holding up a burlap sack that he had tied to his belt. "Every quill we could find, on em, and those that they hid. As for the spellslingers, we'll take care of that." HE answers, just as a the men he sent return with three beings bound, their hands bound by rope behind their back, crude muzzles fashioned to keep them silent as they are forced to their knees before Sabriel.

Kurnoc nods slowly. "If this were Shadows, we would've known-you.. didint know waht you were signing up for?" the wolf scowls under his hood at the Raven. "Fenris, sir.." he asks, grabbing his bow (also hidden under that large cloak.) "what do you suggest?" he asks, glancing around and at the other freeswords. "we are not in the... best of positions.." he frowns.

Fenris shoots a frown over at Leonidas, but with the sounds of talking coming from ahead he decides to let the talkative shadow be. He shakes his head at Shira. "I'm a musician," he says, then breaks into a run toward the voices ahead. "Cover me," he says to Kurnoc, sauntering out into the open, his hands jammed in his pockets and his silvery golem scampering around at his feet. "I know I was not invited to the party," he calls out, walking along calmly, "But I'm hoping you haven't filled out the guest list completely yet."

Shira rolls her eyes as Fenris darts off. "I was about to mention that they are likely carrying ranged weapons, but there he goes." She sighs. "Let me give you guys a bit more of an edge in case we have to fight those guys up ahead." With that the tiny mouse magician focuses on some math in her head, which aims to plant subtle runes on the weapons of her allies, causing them to electrify their targets.

Sabriel takes the sack from Biggs and opens it halfway, glancing at its contents, then nodding once. "I don't look forward to sorting the fakes out," he mutters under his breath to no one in particular, taking a moment to tie it to his own belt and patting it to assure himself of its security there. He steps forward to one of the tied up beings, the one between the others, a raccoon. He firmly grabs the side of their head, turning it to check behind their ear, noticing another quill tucked away there. This one, however, was exactly where it belonged, and he releases the raccoon with a less-than-gentle shove backwards, quickly retaking his place at his sword. "The stage is set. Now we need only the actors to arrive." He follows this bit of flowery talk with a more graceless grunt of annoyance. "They're late. Were I anyone else-" Interrupted by the shouts of Fenris through the rain, he holds a hand up- the men near him quiet to a total hush, besides the achey draw of bowstrings. As he listens, he can't help but smirk. "Au contraire, mon ami," he shouts out his reply in a Creator tongue. "I find myself short on party-goers! I assure you, however, that I mean no harm to you, assuming you mean no harm to me or mine!" He looks at the carnage surrounding him and huffs. "I suppose you'll want a touch of context, though first, I need to know- did the Good King or those in his employ send you?"

Leonidas maintains his grin, turning it directly towards Fenris. The Olm remains in position, keeping an eye on the aspiring diplomat, murmuring silently in a clearly pantomimed imitation of a being, "How quaint. Proving a point already."

The olms eyes glint, clearly enjoying a private joke as he watches the procession with with renewed interest, his bow finding itself drawn aimed at the group though it is not entirely clear who specifically. The olm simply lies in wait, watching and listening.

"I don't think any of us knew exactly what we'd be walking in on. A bloody mess wasn't really what I was-" Kurah cuts off and falls silent on hearing another voice. He hangs back and creeps forward slowly, looking between Fenris and the other tiger, partially drawing the blade and eyeballs the flickering runes. The raven's grip tightens at the reassurance that they weren't to be harmed, less than reassured by the ambiance... but he listens quietly for now.

Bazalt Frowns and nods, ready to use him bow at a moments notice, For no The wolf jsut does as asked by Fenris, covering him and not much else-What the other freeswords did was up to them.

Fenris flicks an ear at Sabriel's use of the Creator dialect. "Could be," Fenris responds to the other feline's question, using the same Creator tongue, "You know how freesword contracts are. You never know who is footing the bill until they hand you the bag. We're just here to make sure our friends here in Whitefeather are alright." He looks around casually at all the weapons pointed his way. "Are those all necessary?" he asks, "I'm just one being. What is it you want?"