Revision as of 21:54, 23 September 2015

Participants

• Fenris
• Rokarion
• Zuri

Date

23/9/478

Log

Just a bit further down is a sizeable graveyard, unmistakable in its appearance. Well-tended graves dot the graveyard's grounds, and the area seems rather well-kept as the First Text dictates. The village proper can be seen in the distance, marked by little more than an increase in the density of the cruck houses and the presence of the taller stonework buildings that make up the town square.

Fenris is rocking about in the back of the wagon. Not that anyone would recognize him of course. Today he is wearing the face of Amos Longtooth. The scarred old veteran wears his long, black coat and has added a wide-brimmed hat that hides his face for now. No need to spook any of the villagers right away, after all. This was just a follow up visit after the freesword excursion out here.

Rokarion was in the same wagon. The plant being was clad in his usual heavy-cloak as he busied himself with browsing one of his notebooks, going over some of the older topics he had written about. If the plant being noticed the spyguard he sure didn't show it, or perhaps didn't care, for him he was planning on visiting a certain alchemist to trade some knowledge with.

The wagon continues past the farm and turns a slight bend as it rolls alongside the wall that delineates the graveyard's grounds. The wall was built tall and sturdy, the better to keep any scavengers or other animals from disturbing the hallowed soil. The next few minutes are slow and ponderous as the wagon begins the final climb towards the village, but once the final hill is crested the dirt road it is travelling on takes on the more familiar shape of a street, with detached houses enclosing it from either side. Finally the wagon makes a sharp turn to the right and comes to a full stop in the town square, just outside the door to the village's one and only Inn.

Rokarion closes his notebook and slides it back underneath his cloak, for storage in a hidden bag certainly. The youthful plant being slowly exits the wagon, giving his limbs a quick stretch after the long journey, before he stops next to the wagon, eyes inspecting the town square and today's activity.

Amos slips from the wagon, keeping the wide brim of his hat down over his eyes. The grizzled old tom cat nods to the driver as he strides purposefully away from the little inn toward where the krick swarms had attacked previously, a slight limp on his left leg. Work to be done and all that. He keeps an eye on the locals, curious if things had gone back to normal yet.

The town square is fairly quiet this afternoon. A few young salamanders play in the garden under the supervision of an ederly being, while a young girl pauses her tending of one of the rose bushes to regard the two arrivals. Likewise, the Inn's patrons turn to observe what is likely the first event of the day even remotely out of the ordinary in this peaceful village. Many of them are salamander beings, of course, but among them is an adult marble fox accompanied by a younger one that is likely his child.

The two guardsbeings sitting by the Guard Post return to their card game after perking up to look at the new arrivals. A third one, standing guard by the road leading to the Mudlick farm watches Amos as he approaches. He raises his hand as if to stop him, moving from his post in his direction.

Rokarion looks around, well this village must be as boring as Zuri have said if the arrival of two beings is enough to get all these eyes turning. Rokarion didn't care however as he glanced the being he came with limping away towards the Mudlick farm. The plant being instead decided to move to the two guards in front of the Mayor office/Guardhouse. "Good morning fellow beings." he says with a smile and a gentle tone, "Is your mayor in her office today?" he asks as he looks around the square again before focusing his gaze on the guards.

"Walk with me, kid," Amos rasps, "Fill me in as we go." The old Spyguard does not bother to offer any credentials, just turns his milky white, blind eye on the young guardsman. "How are things on the old Mudlick farm?" he asks, "Better? Worse? The same? You still having problems?" He limps along at a pretty good pace, and will doubtless leave the young guard in the dust if he does not make a move to slow the old tom.

The two guardsbeings look up from their card game. One of them, a familiar-looking ringed salamander, breaks out into a smile and stands quickly. "Ah, I remember you. You're one of the beings that came over to help us with the bugs in the Mudlick farm." The guardsbeing, whom Rokarion might recognize as Zane, turns to his fellow and orders him to go retrieve the mayor before turning his attention to the jasmine. "Never thought we'd see you Freesword fellas again." He pausse. "Although, you're the not-Freesword that came with the lot, aren't you? Ol' Zane never forgets!" He turns aside as a female Marbled salamander steps out of the guardhouse, escorted by the other guardsbeing. She smiles politely. "Good afternoon. Jillian Radcliff." She extends her hand at Rokarion in greeting. "I believe you were looking for me, sir..?"

The guardsbeing pauses at the unexpected action from Amos. He stammers out something unintelligible that was likely to be the question he was going to ask, but hurries his pace as tries to catch up. "The farm should be safe, but the Mayor has ordered beings to stay away from it just in case. No more of those creatures have been sighted." He steps past Amos. "Sir, I don't think you should be going to the farm, it could be unsafe. Unless you are a Freesword. Are you a Freesword, sir?" He asks with genuine curiosity, and if the eager look in his eyes is any indication he might be about to ask Amos for an autograph, or otherwise gush at seeing a 'Freesword' again.

Rokarion nods his head at Zane and smiles, "Indeed, I am friend." he answers back before the mayor arrives. Rokarion accepts the hand with his own gloved hand and shakers the offered hand before removing his, "A pleasure meeting you again, Mayor Jillian Radcliff. You can call me Rokarion." he answers back, "Well, my trip here have many a purpose, but I wanted to check with you if everything is fine after we dealt with the swarms of krick around here? They are usually not found this far away after all." with a thoughtful rub of his chin, the plant being continues, "And I hope that the Mudlicks themselves are being helped after the lose of their arm." Rokarion says, but the thought of their farm not being owned by them does occur to him, after all he doesn't really know how things work in Sweetwater fiefdoms.

"In a way, Clayton Southfoot," Amos rasps, showing his oversized fang in a lopsided and slightly predatory grin, "I have been a Freesword once or twice. If you're so worried for my well being you had best come along." His limp does not seem to slow the old tomcat, and he is keeping up a good pace. "Nobody's moved back in?" he asks, "Anybody working the land? Or the mayor keepin' everybody away? Come on kid! Walk with me! Never seen a guard move so slow!"

Mayor Jillian nods at Rokarion's words. "Well met Rokarion." She smiles. "Yes yes, everything is well since you and your companions dealt with those Krick creatures. The farm.. well, it may be a while before we can get any beings to go back to that farm and work the land. Some feel it is still haunted by the creatures, despite my reassurance otherwise." She gestures for the jasmine to follow her into the guardpost, out past the modest front lobby and into the reception room that doubles as her office. She sits on her reclining chair by the desk in the center of the room, and offers Rokarion a seat in one of the chairs nearby. "So tell me Rokarion, what beings you back to Summerford, and how can I help?"

Poor Clayton blanches as Amos blurts out his name casually. Had he met the other being before? Were all Freeswords so knowledgeable that they know who he is? Is he somehow special that-His rambling thoughts are interrupted by Amos' questions and urging, the guardsbeing rushing along to his side again. "No sir! Beings don't dare to go back there. Even after the tree-being Royal Ranger told us he'd scouted the place and found it to be safe, folk are just too afraid of those blood sucking things."

Rokarion nods his head as he follows the mayor into the building, taking a seat in her office if there are any to be found, "Ah, that is good to hear. Hmmm, no beings want to go back?" he asks as a thought occurs to him which he quickly voices, "Are the Mudlicks going to sell their farm if they think it is as you say 'haunted'?" he asks as he considers the idea, "This actually reminds me. Did the Royal Rangers visit again after they got informed it was a krick infestation? They might find if there are more of them hiding."

Amos leads the youg guard along, sucking his teeth thoughtfully. "This ranger have a name?" he asks, "An' did he explain why it is that the Rangers didn't find the kricks in the first place? You'll forgive me for being curious." The old tomcat removes his hat and tosses it aside once they are out of sight of the village. It just restricted his range of vision. It would probably be there by the side of the road when he got back. "He come out here alone or with a crew?" the tomcat's eyes roam across the farmland as they walk, "And what about the owners? Mudlicks weren't keen on getting back to their farm after the pests were run off?"

The Mayor eyes Rokarion curiously, as if he'd just said something she could not quite process, and then she chuckles. "Oh no. I see what the confusion is. The Mudlick farm has had that name for many generations, the original Mudlicks are no longer around. The farmstead, as well as all the blessed land around us, is owned by the crown and overseen by Lord Elroy." She shakes her head. "The Lord will demand the farm be worked, of course, and we will have to find a family or two willing two move in and continue working the land." She nods. "The Royal Rangers did send an envoy back, altough I never met the fellow myself. I feel he just came to inspect the work your fellow Freeswords have done, and perhaps to come up with a good excuse as to why the Rangers failed to find the creatures in the first place. Zane might be able to tell you more, he was the one escorting him around the village." He pauses, nibbling on her lip briefly. "Zane did mention this Royal Ranger had shown interest in travelling further out west. Something about how these creatures are native to an area far in that direction."

The guard nods at Amos' words. "Aye sir. He was a funny one. Mister Malachi told us he was a palm-tree being from Firmament, he looked quite unusual with his fancy get-up. Tobin was his name." He nods to himself. "Nah, the old farmstead is still empty. Probably cursed you know? Doubt any being will want to go back there and work that soil. All those dead oxen, bled to their deaths.. at least we finally removed them all so they aren't stinking up the place."

Rokarion rubs his chin as his question about the existance of fiefdoms is answered indirectly, "Ah, so it is owned by a local lord. Noted." he says with a quick nod and a smile, "I will remember to talk to Zane soon." he says as he eyes the mayor, "Oh, yes, I think the ranger meant the Saltide swamp. It is a swamp far away from her south from here and west to Firmament where most of those creatures exist." he comments idly, "So, speaking of the lord and this village. How well known is the surrounding area, do you have accurate maps?" the plant being asks as he hmms to himself, "And for that matter, since you are so far up here, how close are you to the borders with Thera'Dor?"

"Tobin," Amos rasps, "I've heard his name. Won't hurt to take another look though. Shoulda had a full crew out here." Amos obviously has some suspicions about this entire Krick situation. Kricks just did not behave like that without a queen. "I guess I can see why folks might give the place wide berth," he says, eyeing the nearby forest where the Kricks came from before and fiddling with something in his pocket, "Any other stories comin' out of this old place since the Freeswords did their job?" He saunters toward the tree line.

Jillian raises an eyebrow at Rokarion's questions. "I'm sure we have a few maps around." She stands up and moves towards one of the many cabinets that line the room. She continues talking as she browses through it. "Thera'Dor is just a ways north. Beings don't wander up there much. Bandits are everywhere in this area you know?" She retrieves a small rolled-up map and heads back to unroll it on her desktop. "There we go." She points at an area in the map. "This here is Summerford. That's the Lord's manor just to e east." She taps her nose briefly. "I suppose these are the mountains the Ranger meant." She taps on the mountain range just to the south-west of the village, beyond which are the drytongue flats and, further south-east from there, the Saltide Swamp.

The guardsbeing shakes his head. "All kinds of stories, none of them true I imagine. Spooky lights, weird noises, horse-sized bloodsucking dogs... the folk get imaginative, you know?" He blinks at Amos starts heading toards the treeline, and quickly catches up to follow him. "Uh, sir, the farm's back that-a-way. That's just forest down that way." He nods. "The Rangers had brought a 'crew' before, as you put it. They looked all over and couldn't find a thing. They mostly scouted up north and to the west, over towards the green valley, back when we thought it was some kind of beast." He pauses, then adds. "Lilly was sure it was a bear."

Rokarion peers at the map and nods his head, "Ah, so I see." he says as he inspects the rather inadequate map, "So, other than this map, are there any points of interest that the villagers or you know about that have not been added here? It does appear...scarce to say the least." he adds, "Speaking of which, how involved is your Lord in the state of his domain?"

"I am sure they did," Amos says with a frown, "And I imagine that they based their investigations on your little sister's theories as well." The grizzled old tomcat does something inscrutable with something inside his coat as he walks carefully along, examining the trees and bushes for suitable locations for a krick hive. Or nine. "Keep up, Mister Southfoot," he admonishes, "Where is the swimming hole? Or the bog that you were warned to stay away from as a child? We'll get to the farm proper soon enough."

The mayor chuckles at Rokarion's question, thumbing at the wall next to them. "The gracious Lord does all his communication through his second-cousin-twice-removed that runs the Trading Post. As long as the land stays fertile and folk keep working it, he has no interest in what happens here one way or the other." She walks around her desk and sits again, leaning over the map from the other side. "There's nothing much around, Rokarion. Mostly farms and barns. We're lucky enough to have one small stream coming down from the mountains, many of the other villages around don't have the luxury." She leans back on her desk. "Any place in particular you are looking for?"

The guardsbeing nods at Amos. "Y-yes sir. They probably figured it was a bear too. Or something like that.." He blinks. "Uh, can't think of any bogs in the area sir. The only good swimmin' around here is the stream what runs by the village." He nibbles on his lip. "Come to think of it, there's the caves a way up near the foot of the mountain, just past this here forest. There's stories of kids going up there to play and getting lost, so we mostly stay away. Nothing of interest in there either." Sure enough, after following through the treeline a long distance Amos and the guardsbeing come across steeper ground as the flat hills give way towards the mountains ahead. In the distance is a rather distinctive horizontal rock ledge, under which is a darknened area that must be the entrance to this cave.

Rokarion shakes his head, "Ah, nothing in particular, not at all." he says as he sighs at the mention of the truant owner of the village, typical noble-born! "You see, I run a certain guild of sorts. We deal in exploration and mapping out certain areas." he says with a smile, "I was planning on offering our services for the village, from the looks of your map, you really need it. But it appears that for this kind of contract I must have to talk to your lord, unless he considers it trespassing on his fief." he answers back before standing up, "I thought it would be helpful in both spotting out certain natural resources that you could use, as well as spotting any dangerous dens or hives for the local wildlife, but anyhow, I think I will go and talk to Zane for a bit, if I am allowed to be excused from your presence first, of course."

"Yes," Amos rasps, very nearly smiling, "That should do the job nicely. You up for a little spelunking, kid?" he asks Clayton, resting a hand on the boy's standard issue guard uniform and using a bit of fire math to discourage any beasties in the depths from trying to make a snack of the young guard. He awakens the mathemagic in his own coat and presses forward into the dark, conjuring a little ball of blue flame that floats about to provide light.

She laughs at Rokarion's sentence. "Oh, you can be excused any time you want. I'm not one for formalities." She smirks. "You tell Lord Elroy you think you may be able to find 'natural resources' of the nature that might make him rich, and he might just pay you to go map his fiefdom." She nods. "It was a pleasure meeting you Rokarion. You and your fellow Freeswords will always be welcome here in Summerford after what you did for us. Especially those of you who refused payment." She smirks. She may have purposefully failed to mention that to Lord Emory...

The guardsbeing nods nervously. "I will follow you in sir." He clutches his spear nervously, holding it close to his body. "Woah.." He pauses to admire the blue flame. "You can make fire?" He smiles. "You're on of them.. watchacallits.. there's one that comes around and blesses the fields and makes rain for us. You're like her?" Amos and the guardsbeing make their way into the cave, the latter pointing his spear forward defensively. The cave is exceedingly dark, and filled with stalagmites, stalactities and other speleothems formed by water infiltrating through limestone. A few dozen feet into the cave it becomes hard to walk without stepping in stagnant water, which pools in rivulets that become broader and more numerous the further one goes in.

Rokarion nods his head at the mayor, "As I said, madam. I am not a Freesword, and your most welcome for the help." he says as he exits the building, if Elroy is really that much of a sap it would not be hard to secure a contract from him. The plant being then looked to see if Zane was still on the table, if he was he would greet him, "Hello again, Mister Zane. Are you free? I might have a few questions for you."

"Sure, kid," Amos says, "One of them whatchamacallits." He stalks carefully into the dark cave, producing two more little balls of flame and sending them roaming around the cavern to illuminate as much as he can. "Oh yes," he murmurs to himself, "This is just about right. Rangers come in here, Clayton?" he asks, keeping the guard behind him and his senses ahead and around him.

Zane perks up and looks away from his card game. He stands up to turn and face to Rokarion, giving him that knowing smirk again. "Some questions for Zane, eh? Mayor wasn't able to help ya?" He gestures at the other guard and then motions for Rokarion to walk with him as he moves towards the gardens. "What can I help ya with then?"

The guardsbeing shakes his head at Amos. "No sir, they mostly stayed up north. Never asked 'bout no cave either. He steps on a puddle of stagnant water, which kicks up quite the stench. "Ugh.. don't blame them, this place stinks!" He chuckles at his own joke as the two beings pace forward. There, in the flickering pale light comes the first confirmation that Amos is on the right track. On one of the puddles of stagnant water floats a dead Krick, which by the looks of it has been here for at least a few days. The cave broadens and continues deeper into the mountain. Distant, scratching sounds can be heard...