Fall of Whitefeather - RPLOG
Participants
Date
31/8/479
Log
The ride to Whitefeather uneventful, the cart carrying the sellswords working its way through the now muddy road as the rain continued to come down in sheets on their heads. A heavy wind blows, nearly taking the ox's hat in its clutches as he steers the cart over off into the soft grass. "Whitefeather is just up the road a bit more, I'll stick here and wait to see how what you fine." Came their comment as they pat down their stead, clutching their cloak closer to themself against the wind as he does.
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...?"
