Solacious Shakeup - RPLOG

Participants

• Moroko
• Sally
• Wulf

Date

11/10/475

Log

"After scouting," speaks Sally, "Private Wulf has discovered that all is not well at one of the family holdings. It is our duty to investigate deeper and restore discipline. There are no workers in the field, no lights at night. For all we know, the entire place is abandoned, but a recent shipment implies someone is there, and still sending things, if not useful things. Any questions?"

Moroko is dressed not in his previously typical crystal studded robe. Instead, he's wearing a few large swords and a blunderbuss and heavy armor. Somethings don't change though as his head tilts, "Intriguing. There's always some trouble to be had. Do we know what the shipments were of?"

Wulf was the one who brought this information and she shrugs her musket strap higher up her shoulder while adjusting her dagger. No mam... the items were marbles and other useless little trinkets"

Sally nods, and waves to proceed, leading the way out away from the city, across the farm lands and skirting the mountains that rise to the north, "It's half day hike either way," she notes along the way.

Moroko nods to Sally quietly inspecting his gear and offers, "Hopefully nothing explodes." He falls into step though checking his backpack for a few things and offers a wolfish grin to Wulf offering, "I don't think we've met. Moroko." He says introducing.

Wulf snickers as she moves along. "Make that a fourth if you move quickly mam" turning her head she nods to Moroko, flashing a small smile. "The names Wulf, well actually it's Private Wulf iffen ya wanna get formal."

The villa comes into view, small and isolated, with a patch of farmland sorrounding what looks like a tiny town of four buildings, more of a compound. No one works the field, as reported, leaving it looking abandoned. Nothing appears run down, just no one in sight. "Let's come from the side, just in case," advises Sally.

Wulf i

Moroko ahs and nods, "THE Private Wulf." He offers in amusement indicating the explanation that Sally's just given. He chuckles softly and picks up a bit faster as they follow Sally and the swinging tail. He nods to Sally then and tries to quiet as he moves with the heavy gear making careful steps.

Wulf unslings her musket and flips the lock to get ready to fire at a moments notice moving off to the side a couple of feet to the right, though not too far away as to be out of view.

Sally draws out her staff from her back and walks forward into the villa with her entourage behind. None come out to greet them. No eyes spotted in the windows. She marches up to the largest of the buildings and slaps the knocker twice firmly. It echoes through the building.

Moroko watches the staff and musket come out. Moroko considers for a moment and then draws a sword and lifts his buckler shield. He winces slightlya t the sound of the knocker going out. He moves forward a bit to the side of Sally and raises a brow, "No one's home?"

Wulf crouches down near the corner as Sally goes up to the door and sniffs the air as she scans the area infront of the large building. "That or they are hidin like sensible folk"

The door abruptly opens before Sally can reply. A tall and disheveled looking canine stands there. "Hello, Salud, Hola!" he says, using strange Creator dialects not heard outside of religious study for a few centuries at best, "How may I help you?"

Moroko glances to Wulf and then nods. He blinks then and smiles at the canine brightly. He perks up ears lifting and he rests his sword on his shoulder, "Hello! Do you live here? We've had some complaints."

Wulf continues scanning the area, her ears twitching in response to the weird dialects of the canine but guesses that they all mean hello considering the first word.

"I do!" he exclaims, "Complaints? No no no, we can't have those, all out, you see, sent off the last complaint last week, no complaints here," he waves a hand in the air negatively.

Moroko smiles easily, "Wonderful! Well then if you'll let us just come in and take a look then we can go on our way and I'm sure everything will be put to rest." He says and starts to walk into the door.

Wulf sighs and stands up still scanning the area "I doubt it'll be that easy" she mumbles, her closest eye peering over at the other two.

"Some tea? I'd love some," he says agreeably, stepping out of the way and allowing everyone inside. No one else is in sight, which is a bit unusual for what is normally a busy outpost. "Come come, dining room is this way. It's been so quiet, very quiet. This way."

Moroko flashes Wulf a canine grin and continues to walk in. His sword resting on his shoulder and buckler slightly up. He glances around as he steps inside glancing to the other two with him and surveying the interior carefully, "Tea sounds excellent."

Moroko advances first, as the more cautious soldiers, Sally and Wulf, march in behind. They delay has them close enough together that they fall into a chute subtly triggered by the canine even as he leads Moroko along down the hall, "It will be so nice to have a little company," he says.

Moroko blinks in surprise glancing around in surprise, "Betrayed!" He tries to knock the canine over with his buckler and growls, "What have you done with them? Lady Salacious, Private are you alright?" He says his voice rising.

The canine gives a loud yelp, "What what!" he says as if baffled by the whole thing, "I have done nothing, except make some tea, oh yes, I should do that," though it is hard to do on the ground, "May I get up?"

Moroko turns around and points, "WHERE DID THEY GO!" He lowers his buckler to grasp the canine, "Stay next to me. You're not going anywhere. Where did they go?"

He doesn't offer any resistance to being hoisted back to his feet, "I don't know. Maybe they wanted to inspect the house? That's what they wanted. You wanted tea. Come come, it's tea time," he says, gesturing onwards.

Moroko scowls at this and frowns keeping his hand on the canine, "Lead the way." He says with a low growl staying near looking around with obvious paranoia and keeping his sword at hand.

And so he does, guiding Moroko down the hall to the main dining area, where several large tables are out with cutlery and plates, but no people at all. He points to a spot, "If you will relax here, I will fetch the tea."

Moroko shakes his head, "Nawww uh." He pushes the canine towards the indicated spot. "You're not going anywhere I can't see you." He says inspecting the area for signs of others having been there.

Not for a while, it seems. "Well if I can't get the tea, how are we going to have any? And they say I don't make any sense. By the Creators, be reasonable. Oh! Oh oh oh," he says, suddenly excited, "YOU want to make the tea?"

Moroko waits a moment with the canine on that spot. There's no trap so he shrugs and nods, "Sure. I'll make some tea, show me where you make it." He says sniffing wary of poisons as well. He nudges the canine towards the kitchen... he really hopes it's not people.

The canine is all to happy to lead the way, "Oh, I'm being so rude right now. I didn't even tell you my name. I am Patrick Bartholemew the third, a pleasure," he says, heading into the kitchen area. Large enough to make meals to feed everyone that could fill this place, but no one there now. "Tea is right in there," he points at a cupboard, "We have four kinds."

Moroko nods slowly, "The third." He observes, "Wherea re the first two." He nods and urges, "Go ahead open the cupboards. Are you just the chef?"

"My uncle, and my dog," he replies without a hint of jest in his voice. He moves over to open them, revealing various jars of dried leaves. Presumably tea leaves, each a different shade in its jar.

Moroko frowns, "Where is your uncle and the dog?" He blinks at that and frowns, "Why do you have a dog?" He looks wary. He sniffs faintly at the leaves, "Start that going and show me the rest of the house."

He grabs a kettle and moves over to where a small hand pump rests in the corner, starting to work it slowly to draw up water for use, "We shouldn't leave the fire going with no one around, my, that would be dangerous!"

Moroko smiles slightly, "we can leave it for a few moments I'm sure." He says watching this carefully and opening some cabinets searching for anything else, "Where's your Uncle again? I'm sure the fire will be fine." And if it burns down... oh well.

He grumbles as he sets the kettle on. "The Solacious are very well off, yes yes, look." He waves his hand at the stove and intricate lines, fractal patterns, glimmer, activating the fire math hidden within and warming beneath the kettle, "I never had that when I was a child."

Moroko frowns watching the math but looking blank at it without the underlying knowledge. He watches carefully, "Oh? What did you have? Why is it you live here?"

He lifts his shoulders, "I lived with my dog. Didn't I tell you about him?" he asks, looking confused. The heat seems to be quite intense, turning the kettle red along the bottom swiftly. "Almost tea tiem," he says with clear joy.

Moroko scowls, "Is he gone now?" He glances towards the kettle and carefully moves the canine between him and the kettle, "Where is your uncle and dog, man!" He demands shaking the canine a bit harder.

The shaking seems to anger him and he gives Moroko a shove back, "My word! Have you no manners. My dog is gone. I don't have an uncle, what are you, oh, water's ready!" His dark mood lightens quickly, trying to get back at the kettle.

Moroko allows the canine to go towards the kettle but still watching warily, "You said you lived here with your uncle and dog. Are you daft?" He complains in frustration.

He takes the kettle off the heat, steam billowing from its spout. He seats it on a stone surface, then moves to bring down the tea jars from the cupboard, "I said I was raised by my uncle," he corrects.

Moroko wriggles his nose still clearly agitated. He looks around then for otehr exits, "Ah. Right. So he left, with your dog?" He scratches his chin trying to figure out just what is going on and asks, "Are you sure there's no one else here? Do you all serve the salacious?"

"It's a Solacious place," he says, choosing a jar and going about preparing tea, "You never had a pet? That's sad, sad sad sad. I know what will cheer you up. Tea!"

Moroko frowns at that and nods, "pour some tea but you try it first. Let's drink it while you show me the rest of the house. Is there a basement or anything?"

He nods quickly, "Oh yes, but I don't like the basement. Strange noises, no no, the attic is much nicer." He is quick in preparing the tea, two delicate cups filled. He offers one out, and takes the other. Sip. He fails to turn green or perish immediately. "Just the thing for mid day."

Moroko frowns at that and then nods watching that sip. HE shrugs, "Well I like basements. It's a wolf thing. Let's go take a look at the basement." He suggests. Totally not having sipped the tea.

He sighs, "If you insist. Dreary place." He starts to walk though, moving through the building at a relaxed place, sipping and gazing out the windows to the unworked fields beyond.

Moroko moves to follow scratching his chin only slightly glancing out the windows, "What do you do for the Solacious. Do you not farm here?"

"Farmer? Oh no no no. I hate dirt, detest, loathe the stuff. I clean up, make tea, very civilized, Si?" Another strange word there. He pushes open a door, revealing stairs descending to darkness, "See, terrible, who would want to go there?"

Moroko frowns at that, "do you have a lamp or torch?" He pushes the canine in before him, "We're going to go down and take a look for the Lady Solacious. Are you a servant then for the family?"

He staggers towards the steps, "Easy! Creators preserve, are you trying to push me down the stairs?" he accuses, then starts to descend more carefully, feeling along the walls, "Oh no, I'm not allowed to play with fire, besides the stove, and that's not really fire is it? Of course not."

Moroko growls faintly, "I'll push you down the stairs if you don't talk! I've put up with enough of your inaneness. I want to know what happened to the others." He demands again and starts to walk down the stairs scowling as he peers and calls out, "Lady Solacious can you hear me?"

The stairs are dark, but dry and straight, until it hits a corner, turning to descend further, the light levels dropping to utter dark. "I don't like the dark," notes the canine, "It... makes me feel so very tingly tingle."

Moroko mutters and starts reaching back into his backpack for a torch. He keeps nudging the canine down, "Tingly? And not in a good way I take it?" He sighs, "Should have brought my fire magic."

The next prod sticks, "Tingly," he repeats, voice cracking. Unease sweeps from where he should be standing, the sucking force of shadow presence, "Tingle..." speaks the low haunted voice.

Moroko curses slightly and pushes what was a canine and then quickly fumbles in his pack for the flint to try and light the torch. He steps back as he does this cursing, "Fall back creature of shadow!"

What torch? Can't see a darn thing down here! A massive claw like thing moves swiftly, backhanding Moroko and making him stagger, but failing to knock him over.

Moroko grunts as he feels the claw swiping him. He leans into it though trusting to his priest souled skills. He growls, "Begone heathen best! I shall bring the Creator's glory down upon you." He takes a moment focusing his senses and then with heroic aplomb brings his sword around from the side and slashes into the creator growling, "Begone!" He mutters again, "And I knew I should have brought the fireballs."

The sword sinks solidly into what feels like tar and a very un being like roar shakes the walls, echoed by soft cries from further into the basement. A sudden pull is felt at the blade, but Moroko reacts swiftly, just barely wrenching it free of the beast before it can be pulled from his hands.

Moroko begins reciting a nice litany of the creators. He adds in a few things about the creator's light banishing the dark and things to that effect. Still dealing with the dark he starts to fall back towards the light but steps forward and swipes again hard at the creature, "Keep to your shadows! Vile fiend! You shall not have me this day!" He says in swashbuckly mannerisms as he strikes with fervor!

The presence seems to recoil from the ongoing assault, the presence lessening, then fading entirely. Did it retreat? No steps were heard, but shadows are strange.

Moroko pants catching his breath and just waits for a few moments he then goes back to his backpack keeping an eye out as he takes up another torch and tries to get it lit. He watches the darkness warily as he does this fumbling slightly to get the torch out before the creature might work up it's nerve.

Fumbling in the darkness for a moment, a torch is felt, grabbed, where is that flint... After what feels like far too long, light spills out, illuminating the hallway. Ahead, not far, a bit of math is etched into the wall near the roof.

Moroko takes his time and then lets out a sound of relief as the light fills the area. Moroko blinks and slowly steps forward glancing around carefully. He scowls slightly, "Huh." He moves forward to study the math frowning as he studies it and then reaches out with the torch seeing if the math smudges off.