Mists over the Musarde, Chapter Two

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Dorgio's head snaps up at the mention of water. "You will be excusing me a moment," he says, standing. "I must attend to something."

He stands and quickly makes his way to his sleeping quarters. As his main dwelling is in the Gundarakite district, this room is quite Spartan—a mattress, a desk, and a few symbols of the Morninglord, crudely sketched onto the walls with charcoal. On the desk, stacks of paper sit precariously atop on another. Besides that, there is the music box given to him from Evangeline, a half-eaten ham roll, and a large clay pot, with more pots sitting at the floor.

Dorgio looks into the pot on his desk, a slow smile crossing his face. "Good morning, little Szoritas!" From the bottom of the pot, the crayfish he'd bought from the rivermonger waves its pincers indifferently.

"Time to eat!" he tells the creature as he gently plucks it from the water, perches it on his shoulder, then feeds it a bit of the ham. The crayfish latches onto the meat greedily, provoking a chuckle from the cleric. "It is a good thing you'll eat anything, my friend. I think you and the dwarf would get along, you know, if he wouldn’t eat you first."

As Szoritas feeds, Dorgio empties the dirty water into one of the smaller pots, then fills the makeshift tank with clean water from another. He looks down at the pool, staring into his own reflection.

A thought suddenly strikes him. Mirrors. Incabulos. Darkon. He stands still a moment, stroking Szoritas's chitinous shell in thought, then plops the crayfish back into his tank.

He then returns to the common room. "I am thanking you for your patience," he tells the group, then gives Cirdan and Benn a look, one of those we need to talk when this is done looks.

With that out of the way, he returns his attention to Jonathan. "And now, my friend, I am thinking you may have a question or two for us?"

[Adam]

Benn's mouth twists, disappointed. Clearly it would be too much to ask, that we acquire some intelligent, educated people for the group. "No, Herr Cirdan, I do not expect wolfmen. However lycanthropic rats carry the same weakness to silvered weapons as their lupine cousins. Keep that blade close to hand, Herr Jonathon, for when we travel to the sewers with you. We may need it."

"So," the archivist says, standing and stepping towards his desk. "We need to figure out what we're doing. Madame Rennier is going to negotiate on our behalf to grant me access to the archives in the Ezran church. I'm sure this will disappoint most of you, but that means no need for breaking and entering. Additionally, we need to deal with this associate of Malrieux who has it out for us. And we'll need to find out everything we can about the search for our quarry in the sewer. Speaking of which, how much exploration have you done in the sewer system itself? We are searching for an odd sort of temple or portal down there. Ever notice anything like that?"

[steveflam]

"So," the archivist says, standing and stepping towards his desk. "We need to figure out what we're doing. Madame Rennier is going to negotiate on our behalf to grant me access to the archives in the Ezran church. I'm sure this will disappoint most of you, but that means no need for breaking and entering. Additionally, we need to deal with this associate of Malrieux who has it out for us. And we'll need to find out everything we can about the search for our quarry in the sewer. Speaking of which, how much exploration have you done in the sewer system itself? We are searching for an odd sort of temple or portal down there. Ever notice anything like that?"

Norzak purses his lips. "This here Ree-neer wimmin. She said she'd help ye, Benn. But nuthin' is fer free. An don' go all high an' mighty on me. I bet she's expectin' a favor in return, though she might not of said so. Dun' trust noone, man. Trust me on that. I've lived longer 'n' you and know it ta be so. I certainly don' wan you or us ta be owin' this high tootin' falootin' dame."

"As for our enemies, well ony' way ta go is ta rid us of them. Enn' of story! `An we've Jon, a young man , with us. We shouln't be yappin' our yaps off as of yet, should we?" He looks at Jonathan "No offense intended, bub."

"As for the wolfmen 'an their so called cousins. Way I see it. We kill 'em. Theys purty evil. If'n Jon's dagger kinna help us, then all the better. If'n he knows the sewers real good, then we kin look inta them some more."
Norzak looks ar Dorgio and the others with a look, meaning Dun go tellin' the lad everything, ye dolts! He then leans against the wall and keeps an eye on the young lad.

[JMaytr]

"No offense taken Norzak." Jonathan says.

The boy feels the knife on his belt nervous that everyone keeps mentioning it. So, they've fought wolfmen, Jonathan thought to himself, they are not fools. Perhaps I've picked the right group of men to help me kill such monsters.

"Questions I might have for you...hmmm...well, I know that you are not crooks or the law, so you say, could you each tell me a tale of your heroism? I have told you of my fight with the huge rat, and I have a ghost story I've been to apprehensive to tell, but you have trusted me this far..."

The young man combs his fingers through his thick red hair, his green eyes watching the rest of the group, waiting.

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

She said she'd help ye, Benn. But nuthin' is fer free. An don' go all high an' mighty on me. I bet she's expectin' a favor in return, though she might not of said so.

Dorgio hears this as he returns to the room, and gives Benn and Norzak a wry look, "I am thinking, whatever the deal was, our scholar has already negotiated it!" Or at least I hope you did, he thinks, to leave us at gallows like that.

He then takes a bottle of palinka from one of the shelves, pours himself a mug of the strong-smelling brandy, then hands the bottle to Jon. Well then my friend, I will not be boring you with stories my friends here have heard or experienced. Instead, I'll tell a tale from my time in Krezk, the Seat of the Morninglord. But first, bottoms skyward!" He takes an appreciative swig and then, flushed with the liquor, he begins his story.

"It was maybe two months after I had been ordained. I had been sent to reconsecrate an old burial ground. I had not set a hundred paces beyond the gates until I heard tramping, guttural growls, and a high-pitched plea for help.

"I ran to it to find a halfling, older and badly bleeding, burst from the tall grass. I knelt to help him, and then I saw what he'd been running from. Out of the grass came three other halflings, freshly dead and now with hideous, twisted mouths filled with jagged little fangs. Their hands were small, but the claws looked like they could reach…anywhere.

"I grabbed the old man and hoisted him to the top of a mausoleum, where the others couldn't reach him. I looked and saw them coming towards me. I could have tried to call upon the Morninglord to repel them, but the man, his wounds wept like warm cheese; if I did not heal him soon, he would be dead. So in the split second I had left, I chanted my prayer, and the Morninglord, he closed the old man's wounds.

"Then they were upon me.

"I braced for the worst, but they ran past me and bashed into the tomb instead! They stared up at the old man and snapped their jaws at him, and I realized that for whatever reason, these halfling ghouls only wanted to eat halfling flesh!

"I dispatched them as they snarled, and when a human ghoul, a long-dead one by the look of him, finally appeared, I did the same to him. Barely.

"The old man, he'd been traveling from Darkon to trade in Borca. I helped the old man bury his kin, then sent him to the nearest village. I reburied the last ghoul and all those he'd dug up. The old man, I never saw again."

[JMaytr]

Jonathan takes the offered brandy and takes a drink, the liquid burning as it trickled down his throat and into his stomach. He let out a slight cough.

"That was certainly a chilling tale Dorgio. Halfling ghouls? How terrifying."

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

"Ha! It probably sounds like nothing now, but at the time I hardly knew how to wield my spear, and I feared that, well, you've seen what many rats can do. Plus," he laughs, "at their height, I feared their bite would leave me, ah, without hope of an heir."

[Adam]

Bennedict gives Norzak a withering look after the dwarf snaps at him. I had assumed you would not have brought the man in, if we could not trust him.

He looks away, reaching around in his bag for a pipe. Filling the bowl with tobacco, he lights it and places it into his mouth, taking a puff as he listens to Dorgio's story. "Interesting. I hadn't heard of that proclivity for the flesh of their own species. Do you suppose it is true across all lines? For instance, a dwarf ghoul would only crave dwarf flesh?"

"As for tales of heroism," he chuckles under his breath. "They are not exactly my area of expertise. I read many of them as a boy, in the libraries in Nufrechtenburg. I beleived them to be just that, tales, at the time, and so I had been assured by my parents. But then, as I travelled on the roads outside of town one evening when I was a lad of 15, I happened upon a stranger." Benn takes a drag from the pipe, travelling backwards in his mind. "He was a large man, larger than I had ever seen. It was the middle of the winter, and only fools or young men gathering firewood like me would be out in that blistering cold, but I saw he carried no lumber or tools. I also saw that he barely noticed the temperature, indeed he barely noticed me. When I thought perhaps he was lost and hailed him, he turned at last, with a stiff, jerky motion of his head, and I could finally see the thing's face, beneath the thick woolen robes he was wearing."

"It was like nothing I had ever imagined. His face was stitched together, made from pieces of different men if you can imagine it. He had dull, yellowed eyes, and though he lived and moved I could see no puff of breath coming from him. I realized later that he was one of the Created, creatures made by...well by a gentleman in my homeland, and not entirely unheard of." Bennedict's lip curls into a derisive sneer. "I wish I could tell you I was brave and fought the creature off, like Dorgio, but I knew little of these Created, and what I did know told me I stood not a chance against him. So I turned, and I ran home, and I never looked back." He gives a chuckle, "And I suppose since then I've been looking for answers for what to do when one meets the creatures of the night, so the same thing does not happen to me again."

[JMaytr]

"I have traveled through snowy Lamordia and have heard whispers of the Created, hateful beings, though sir Bennedict your tale is the first I have heard first hand. Wolfmen, ghouls, men created from decayed parts...there truly are reasons men fear the dark."

Jonathan looks to Norzak.

"I am curious as to what horrors you have encountered sir dwarf. I can only imagine what lies beneath other than mongrel sized rats."

So far so good. Jonathan thinks to himself. These are just the kind of men I need to help me kill the Night Things. I've found good company.

[steveflam]

Norzak thinks about Jon's question. "Hmm, dunno, really. I's encountered a dwarvish vampire once an nearly bit tha big one. As you can see I's here, 'n' it's not. Took a few of us to do it in, too."

"Benn I dunno bout dwarf flesh 'n' dwarf ghouls, but I'll eat anything long as it can be cooked. T'aint ne'er metted a wolf man or rat nor whatter ye call ghouls or zombies. I done heard tha stories 'bout the lycanthropes though. Silver prolly is a good idea to do 'em in is what one 'o' the tales say. 'Nother is some kind of flower.

Me own experience with tha vampire. Stab it with a sharp wooden peg 'n' cut it's head off. Then we's burnded what was left of it 'an scattered it in the winds on the surface. Dun heard bout some skeletons but them's not so tough is my thinking. If'n we's be goin' into tha sewers ta kill them ratties, then mebbe like Cirdan says, I might need some silver bolts an' mebbe a silver dagger or short sword."

[Adam]

"I have traveled through snowy Lamordia and have heard whispers of the Created, hateful beings, though sir Bennedict your tale is the first I have heard first hand. Wolfmen, ghouls, men created from decayed parts...there truly are reasons men fear the dark."

Jonathan looks to Norzak.

"I am curious as to what horrors you have encountered sir dwarf. I can only imagine what lies beneath other than mongrel sized rats."

"There are reasons to fear, yes," Bennedict says after another thoughtful drag. "But only so much that we are motivated to battle against it. Fear is the greatest weapon of these beings, by a wide margin. It is most important, then, to strike back against them. You agree?"

[JMaytr]

"I most certainly do! Monsters of the night...these beasts destroy familes!"

Jonathan notices his passionate outburst and calms himself.

"You see friends, I come from Mordentshire, a kind of victim of such beasts. I should not have fiegned ignorance on the subject of these creatures, its just that my age of 15 combined with tales of those monsters makes most men question my grasp on reality. My homeland has many sanitariums to help those lost ones, but I am in control of my faculties...sorry to ramble.

"I found my blade on one of the lycanthropes as you call them, but this one was niether wolf nor rat, but raven. I came upon the creature as I play near the river. The beast was dying and begged mercy from me. It was his silver blade I carry now. I dispatched the monster and saw him revert to a man. When I told my tale to my family, they did not believe me. Not untill it was too late and monsters came for them. I have traveled far since then, no easy feat for a boy becoming a man, and I have heard many a tale of Night Things. Because they destroyed my family I have vowed to destroy them and their ilk wherever them may hide and prey on innocents.

"It was in Levkarest that I encountered the spirit. Ironic because I have since learned that my own Mordent is far more crowded with ghosts. My patron at the time, a wealthy older man with much experience with theses types of things, and I had been contracted by a local wine seller to investigate the strange goings on at his home following a stable fire. My patron had promised me the chance to face the Night Things, and brought me along convinced at the relative saftey in the investigation."

Jonathan is quiet a moment as an especially satisfying memory passes through his mind.

"As I moved into the wine sellers stables for my part of the search, I was assaulted with flying horseshoes and then hay bales. Frightened I looked up to see a horrifically burned man, with flames escaping from his nose, eyes, and mouth. It came close to me. Like this," Jonathan put his own hand a few inches from his face. "I could smell the fire and wine on the burned man. It started screaming at me, like it was trying to tell me somthing but all that came out were screams. I don't know why but I was more facinated than afraid. The burned man kept on screaming and tugging at a silken black cord around his throat. Then he just...vanished.

"As you can imagine I ran to tell my partner of my encounter only to find him in the bedroom of the wineseller going through old documents."

For a second Jonathans face and demeanor darken and his last few words are tinged with hate.

"Then I saw that the curtains on the old oak posts of the bed were tied with that same black silk cord. As I told my mentor of my meeting with the burned man and of the same cord about his neck his face turned up thoughtfully and he went pack to a pile of papers he'd already flipped over. As he re read them he suddenly exclaimed that our employer, the wine seller, had a stable boy on his books that seemed to vanish around the time of the fire.

"We confronted the wineseller with our deductions and got him to admit to killing his stable boy following an indescretion with him, then burning his stable as a means of cover up. As he was admitting this the spirit appeared again, but this time screaming silently. The sight of the ghost along with the knowledge that he was the cause of its condition was too much for the winesellers heart, which gave out right there. As the spirit faded his screams became words finally. Though they were still silent, I saw that they mouthed the Borcan words for thank you.

"I parted ways with my wealthy patron soon after as his next mission was considered too dangerous for a lad such as me. I came north, first to My hometown of Mordentshire, then I began my travels here."

Jonathan is quiet for a whole two minutes. then asks Dorgio for another drink of his brandy to calm his now shaking hands.

[Le Noir Faineant]

Cirdan has been listening to the stories with quiet interest.

With a facial expression that is difficult to interprete, he puts his grotesque helmet on.

"So... I see you have reason to hate those who lurk in the dark. Good. That will only make you fight harder."

"- Now, I repeat, the most valiant warrior cannot win any fight if he doesn't come prepared. We should work on our arsenal. I am the only one who goes fully armed, so I am likely to be sort of the group's spearhead. Can we afford any kind of silver or magical weapon for me?"

[steveflam]

Cirdan has been listening to the stories with quiet interest.

With a facial expression that is difficult to interprete, he puts his grotesque helmet on.

"So... I see you have reason to hate those who lurk in the dark. Good. That will only make you fight harder."

"- Now, I repeat, the most valiant warrior cannot win any fight if he doesn't come prepared. We should work on our arsenal. I am the only one who goes fully armed, so I am likely to be sort of the group's spearhead. Can we afford any kind of silver or magical weapon for me?"

Norzak frowns at that notion. "Pardon me, Cirdan. Ain' yer of a Noble family? Cain' ye afford a silver weapon? Suren' ye're our tank, there's no denying. I's dunno if I gots any extra gold ta spare. Ain' made much since I bin in Richmoolow. Suren that Denys bin nice to us, but nice don' given us no gold, elf. Tha lil gold I does have I's use it ta eat n drink. We can't allas' eat on Sancerre's generosity." He raises his shoulders in a gesture meaning Sorry, can't help you out bub

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Interesting. I hadn't heard of that proclivity for the flesh of their own species. Do you suppose it is true across all lines? For instance, a dwarf ghoul would only crave dwarf flesh?"

Dorgio shrugs. "They were the only non-human undead I've encountered. That encounter, it's part of why I've been looking for Van Richten's latest treatise. I've heard it claims that the living dead, they are more varied than some might think."

He then turns, and listens to Norzak's story with a smile of approval, and then to Jon's. His face twists at the mention of the wereraven and the boys parents. When the boy is finished, the priest hands him the bottle. "My condolences to your kindred, lad. So the raven-men, they attacked you? I've never met one, but I've heard rumors that make them sound…not entirely horrid." In his gut, something told him that the ravenkin could be trusted, but he had neither proof nor logic to explain why. Just a feeling.

He then listens to Cirdan and Norzak. "You know…Sancerre hasn't paid us yet, but if he holds himself as our patron, it would not be foolish to ask for some, how does one say, market expenses. A few silvered daggers and clutches of silvered bolts wouldn't set out patron back too much." Then looking at Cirdan, he continues, "A silvered sword, on the other hand, that may be a tall order, even for his daughter's betrothed. I am not imagining it would be too easy to swing at any rate. I do know a prayer to imbue your blade with a certain puissance, though."