Dead Drop
Tyr, Rathgar
A close examination of the corpse verifies the brutality of this man's death. Where flesh is not decomposed, it is torn or burned. There are carvings too, but it is unclear whether they were inflicted before or after death. The runes are nothing you are familiar with, perhaps magical. Besides the chest and one loose arm, the body is swaddled in thick fur hide, preventing any further examination. The hide is not burned, so you can assume he was wrapped up after death. Someone went out of their way to lodge him between these fallen trees.
As for the stiletto, it appears completely unsuited to combat, but its craft is beyond masterful. A sheen of yellow light dances off its surface, revealing a pristine blade of warped glass.
Just before you finish examining the body, your keen eye picks up one minor detail. Beneath the head, you notice a slight gleam. Upon further investigation, you find a few shards of broken glass lodged beneath one of the fallen trees. You recognize the glass. It's the same type as the glass containers you found in the shack. A badly faded label remains in the debris.
Rathgar, meanwhile, searches the immediate area for any clues. Unfortunately, the body is the only sign of any activity. Whoever brought it here did so quickly and discreetly. The tracks continue into a small creek, making it near impossible to follow them any further.
Middle Path
Nix
Heading down the path, the subtle sounds of human activity intensify until Nix reaches a wooden archway leading into a clearing. Small, mundane runes line the fine woodwork, and beyond the threshold you see a small lumber camp occupied by burly rough folk. They work timber with rough tools, talking among themselves in a tongue close to your own, their words too faint to decipher.
Beyond the camp, you identify, at last, the village, composed of humble homes, and full of busy wild folk living their lives behind the safety of a palisade wall. One structure stands out from the rest. A soaring tower of lumber, high above the village and the forest canopy. It ascends, unassuming, into the sky, until it culminates into a wide basin. The tower appears relatively new, and even now you see small figures finishing the construction.
Shrine Junction
Kat
Klanik continues his work, dismissing Kat’s remark with silence for a time. After he collects what he’s after, the magician responds in a cold tone. “It’s only the death knell of some used incantation. The spell, like all men, refuses the embrace of death.” The apprentice and bodyguard are silent, but Pesc lets out a short, dismissive laugh.
“Let’s not be so dire yet, yeah? We’ve still got a job ahead of us.” These words do little to settle the dismal air surrounding the wayshrine, to Pesc’s chagrin. Visibly annoyed, the veteran leaves the shrine and idles near the fork in the path. Jureel takes her side by the magician, but Vernon pulls Kat aside.
Now that you have a closer look at the man, you can see that he, like his master, is pale with some affliction. Sweat beads on his brow, and his words slur ever so slightly. “Kat, that is your name, yes? Please, don’t be too alarmed, but I fear the potent magics of this forest are a bit much for Klanik. It isn’t my place to say… Well, perhaps I’m not quite myself… I mean to say, be careful. He has some interest in you, for reasons he’s kept from me. I’ve never thought him dangerous, but this air is intoxicating.” His eyes dart over to Klanik, then downwards.
Author
Topic: [IC] Lairds of Orren (Read 7074 times)