Diokles frowns. "I'm afraid that it is a precaution we must take. One moment." Diokles whistles to get Pythios' attention. "Pythios, I want you and Dicaeus to tail our dear friend Vilkas. I believe you and I both know where he's off to, so it shouldn't be that hard to catch up to him." Pythios nods. "Aye, sir." He procures a broadsword and scabbard from beneath the bar. "Just in case." Pythios hammers on the door to the kitchen. "Dicaeus! Get off your ass! We've got work to do!" The clatter and smash of breaking plates can be heard from the kitchen, as well as quite a few choice expletives from the goblin cook. After a moment Dicaeus steps out from the kitchen, his chef's hat and apron replaced with a set of tattered leather armor and a matching cap. Diokles wishes the pair good luck, and Pythios and the goblin step out of the tavern and fade into the night. "Now," Diokles says, "Where were we?" "You were about to explain to us what all's going on in this town." "Oh, yes!" The man's face turns grim. "Every year, Ilbete [the town you are in, just to refresh you guys' memory] holds its Fullmoon Festival at around this time. A centuries-old local tradition, you see. On the night of the full moon, two days from now, the whole town comes together to celebrate the coming harvest beneath the light of the full moon. But in the months leading up to this year's festival, things have been different. There've been disappearances. At first it was just animals. Pets, livestock, vanished without a trace in the night. Then people began to disappear. Nobody dares to speak of such things. Superstition alone prevents most people from talking openly about it. Folks no longer walk the streets alone at night, always strolling in twos or threes now. To make matters worse, that shameful excuse for an adventurer, Vilkas Varcolac, has been sowing seeds of distrust in the minds of the villagers here." Diokles nods towards Plor. "That's the fellow you blinded. Him and his cronies have gotten it into the heads of the townspeople that outsiders are to blame for anything that goes wrong in this village. Only me, Pythios, Ianthe, and old Dicaeus have not fallen prey to his rhetoric. He's a petty crook masquerading as a 'protector of the people!' We've called you here because we believe he's up to something, and whatever it is, we believe it will happen in two nights' time, at the Fullmoon Festival. Varcolac and the goons who follow him will leave town for days, even weeks at a time, and then return as if nothing had happened. But we've managed to pinpoint where we believe him and his men have been going. There's an abandoned chapel atop a hill in the Fullmoon Forest, a shrine to a long-forgotten deity. That's where he's made his hideout, we suspect." He goes into detail about the geography of the area surrounding the village, droning on for what feels like hours about the Fullmoon Forest, and the local folklore. All of a sudden, the door to the tavern bursts open, and Pythios staggers in. Wounded in a dozen places, he manages to speak. "It was a trap...Argh, they knew we were following Varcolac. They lured us deep into the forest, and sprung their ambush. Warriors, at least eight of them. I only recognized a couple of them...Otsoa and Lobo...The rest were all strangers to me. Poor Dicaeus was slain before he could even draw his blade. I managed to wound one of them and make a break for it, but not before they wounded me. I lost my blade on the way. They fought like a pack of dogs..." Pythios collapses to the floor. Diokles, after recovering from the initial shock, leaps up and runs to his side. "Ianthe! Get me some rags from the kitchen, quick!" Ianthe, who'd been stacking plates, rushes off in search of rags. Diokles turns to face your party. "Do any of you know any healing spells? Pythios will surely die without one."
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Topic: AD&D: Heroes of Ilbete (Read 29904 times)