Legacy of the Hearthwoods part one - RPLOG
Participants
Date
25/7/477
Log
Early in the morning, approaching noon - perhaps the best time to take those who would rather lurk in the darkness by surprise. Even though the sun beats down heavily on the foot of the hill on which the old manor stands, it's cooler than what one would expect for the heat of summer. A cool breeze blows, stirring up stands of withered grass by the long-abandoned roadside, and by all appearances the grand old manor is devoid of any sign of life. Yet the thick mist that hangs over the hills to the south reminds all present of why they have come, and what their ultimate goal is, even if their current one is not quite clear...
Jera's greaves clink softly in the soft earth in the ground, the kit fox wearing his absolute best. He's seen the manor once before, but he finds himself needing to visit again, having questions and all sorts of lingering doubts in his mind.
Selena sighs a little, rubbing her eyes before looking out over the hill to the dilapidated manor. "... Well, we're here." She mutters to nobody in particular. "And I see no ambush party. That's a good start." She notes, looking back over to Jera. "I'm almost surprised there's no sign of that fog here, but I'm not complaining either. I suppose the higher ground helps a lot."
Natska sticks close to Jera and Selena, the jaguar following her friend's example, moving softly in her heavy armor. Her ear flicks as her attention is directed to the fog and she nods. "It still grates on my nerves even this far away." She looks back to the manor. "Well. Shall we?"
As the trio approach the old manor's gates, nothing seems out of place for a building that's lain abandoned since the fall of Mossy Stone twenty-seven years ago. The wrought-iron gate has been rusted ajar - thankfully so, as opposed to shut, and beyond it lies an overgrown garden, complete with dried-up fountain, old masuoleum and rotting gazebo. Even the entrance to the manor has fallen apart, one of the grand double doors lying in splinters on the ground, beckoning, waiting.
Jera shudders, his fur standing on end from all the bad vibes he is getting from the place. Even enough to quiver just a little in his armor. He holds his bow tightly in his hands, looking back at his two companions and trusting them to have his back even as he leads the way through the deserted double doors...
Selena rubs her cheek and looks back over the manor somewhat critically, slipping through the gates without too much trouble thanks to her lack of armor. "Well, I already have a bad feeling about this place." She mutters to nobody in particular. "Natska, I'd prefer if you went first - armor and all." She notes simply, taking a deep breath. "I suppose I can understand the appeal in it, but it's not for me."
Natska gives Selena a small nod, and moves in after Jera. "Don't let any nasties sneak up behind us," she replies, tone serious. Her grip tightens a moment on the haft of her glaive and she gives the courtyard a critical glance. "Jera? Would you prefer to hang back a little as well? I am comfortable being first, although I am not sure what we are looking for."
The entrance foyer is in no better shape than the manor's exterior. There's evidence of past activity - the tattered, mouldy carpet has been scuffed by feet in places - but with the way it is, it's an uphill task to tell who or what caused them, or how old they are. They're certainly not around at any rate, for the foyer is equally deserted.
Chandeliers have fallen from the ceiling and lie smashed on the floor; someone's made an attempt to sweep the glass shards to the sides of the hallway where they won't be in the way. Pillars, once grand, stand stained by mildew, although the words of greeting on them are still legible, and from ahead in the dim corridor, illuminated by what faint light filters in through the stained windows...the scent of cooking?
"Do you feel that too, Selena? Some of the Old One followers possibly still lingering around her." Jera nods at Natska slowly. "I think we should be on our utmost -sniff sniff- utmost -sniff sniff- guard?" The kit fox smells the cooking and gets distracted for a bit, gripping his bow a little tighter and readying an arrow. "Hmm."
Selena nods back to the fox. "With what I'm feeling, there's probably more than one caller's worth of corruption here." She replies simply, looking back over to Natska and Jera. "... Well, the armor's certainly new on Jera. I don't mean to sound jaded, but it might be best if you head first for now, Natska. It takes some time to get used to new things... As much as I trust you both not to do something stupid, it'll be safer that way."
"... Food, though. Someone's probably here. For the lack of intelligence most of the undead show, there have been some exceptions." She notes. "If we investigate now, we might catch someone - but if we head another way, we might be able to look through more of the manor before potential inhabitants find us." The wolfess follows after Jera, silently thankful she wouldn't have to try and step around glass to remain somewhat silent.
Natska tenses for a moment at Jera's question, gaze sweeping the foyer, then slips past Jera with the smooth, slow steps of a hunting cat, sniffing at the air. "Definitely occupied..." she whispers, voice low, and begins moving towards the source of the smell.
Natska's search leads the trio past some servants' quarters and a storeroom, through a dusty, cobwebbed solarioum and into a grand dining hall. The furniture looks almost as if it's lain there for decades - which it probably has. A single long table with two seats at its head, presumably for the lord and lady of the manor, the family, and at the foot, the servants. On the walls above the archway entrance, what used to be portraits of the family - presumably so, for the canvas has long been cut out and only the frames, affixed to the walls, bear witness to the legacy Hearthwood family who lived in the manor for generations.
At the rear of the dining hall, another archway into the kitchen, just as dusty and in disarray, save for one small corner that houses a cooking fireplace. An enormous iron cauldron hands over a cheery little flame, and it's from its contents - a slightly sour smelling meat soup of some sort - that the scent of cooking originated. Considering the sheer size of the cauldron, and the serving pots next to it, whoever put this on the fire to simmer was confident enough in the sheer volume of liquid contained that the soup wouldn't burn.
Natska changes her soul for just a moment as they creep forward, then quietly growls and gives her head a sharp shake, eyes searching for the chef. "A stew of Beings. I would not touch it. But where is the cook?" Her tail lashes, agitated.
"The last time I was here, ghostly things were about." Jera shudders and then recalls his experience with the manor, looking around for a moment and frowning. He decides to look at the pictures on the wall one by one, and in detail as well, brushing off portraits carefully.
Selena furrows her eyebrows. "Excuse me?" She asks, aparrently not quite sure how to take the comment from Natska. "You're telling me someone here is a cannibal?" The wolfess sounds a little incredulous to say the least, though it's possible she doesn't want to accept the possibility on face value, though still being careful not to raise her voice too much. "I don't even know what to say about that..." It's clear either way that she doesn't approve as she stiffens slightly, hands clenching into fists.
Natska slowly nods her head. "It is a unique smell... I thought you might recognize it as well with your use of fire math, but perhaps you are not usually so close to your victims. Fire-punch enough things and you will get used to it." She pauses, spits, and growls. ?But eating them is disgusting."
