Party 15

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Charging into the room, Willan comes up on the duchess quickly. He looks at her, proping herself up on the back of the throne, and sees the large bite mark across her torso. She is still alive, and through her combination of stern and pained looks, Willan can see deeper, that she is increadibly scared.

Seeing their companion take off into the room, and survive, the rest of the group comes in to see the horror of the guards strewn about the throne room. Braid looks at the duchess, and doesn't think that her wound looks fatal, having seen bites like this before, from wolves.

Renvir and Parundar follow to take a look at the duchess. Together, they realize that this is no normal bite, and after a few moments they are able to remember where a gigantic wolf bite would come from, werewolves.

Lady Morowen is holding her wound, looking down at it, and then up at the group, she quietly mouths the words "No, not this."
 
"Well you've certainly looked better milady," Braid said as he took in the scenery of carnage, "Parundar, can you take care of the duchess real quick?"

The half-orc then approached the wounded Morwen. Those were some nasty bite marks. That and the howling he heard in the distance gave some clue to what had transpired. Still, Braid didn't want to take any chances. They needed the duchess to get their reward and recognition after all.

Braid dropped to one knee and extended his free hand to lady Morwen.

"As soon as our lovely drum playing bard has fixed you up, let's get out of here. This is not a safe place."
 
Willan darts into the room, quickly making his way to lady Morwen. His eyes snag for a moment on the broken window and her horrific wound before settling on her face. “My lady! Thank Cyrrollalee you're alive!” Seeing pain and, above all, fear in her eyes, Willan sheathed his dagger and did his best to reassure lady Morwen, “We're here now, all will be well.”


Willan, noticing the glass had been broken outward thought, Looks like He, er... it(?) must have smashed it’s way out though here. Feeling the need to do something to protect this poor frightened woman, Willan focused on the stone around the window and pulled. The stone around the broken window stretched and flowed inward. In the empty space where there was once a pane of glass, there was now a thin layer of stone.


Concentration turned into an open mouthed smile as he closed the last gap with stone. His pride faltered just a tad as he turned to face lady Morwen, searching her face for a sign that his effort helped to ease her fear. She hadn’t even noticed. She was focused on the wound that she held. “No, not this”. Willan searched the eyes of his companions hoping someone else knew what was going on here. Not what? What’s she talking about?


Thankful someone else knew what to do, he found himself nodding at Braid’s words and smiling encouragement to lady Morwen. “Yes, we’ll get you out of here, don’t you worry.”
 
Renvir seeing the Morwen in such a state, crotches down to her. "Milady, your wounds seem deep, but not fatal, please let me tend to them, we would not want you dying on us." He says concerned, more for his reward than her well-being.

As he begins tending to her wounds, as much as he can, remembering back to times when his father taught him how, he begins to notice their self repair. Taken back by this sudden phenomenon, he stops dressing the wounds altogether and watches as the skin knit together. "My god its a miracle, but let us not count our blessings yet. We need to find the town doctor, or at least a priest or some sort to make sure the wound has no lasting effects."

Renvir stands up, "Yes, let us move quickly." He exclaims
 
Parundar's shock at the destruction in the room and the prospect of a werewolf overwhelms his senses. Braid's request is heard by his ears, but not quite understood until Renvir has already begun patching the Lady up.

Parundar hastily follows with the others, agreeing that finding a more capable healer would be vital in case of more dire circumstances.

Recognizing the bite and hearing her dread, Parundar asks her directly, "Lady Morwen... were you attacked by a werewolf?"
 
Lady Morowen’s eyes grow wide as she notices how she is healing. “He finally did it.” she whispers to herself. She looks to Parundar, who was asking if she knew what had attacked her. “Y-y-yes,” she begins stuttering as the wound begins to close. “My former husband, I had to banish him when he contracted the curse. He was angry, but I had no desire to have him killed. It has been months, but he returned just after you left and did this.” She gestured around, and to her own rapidly healing stomach. “He was here with a whole pack of them, you must follow them into the woods, protect my people.”


Her face becomes very stern, looking down to her stomach again. “And one more thing.” She stares directly at Braid. “Kill me, before it’s too late.”
 
Werewolves roaming around killing people? That's trouble.

Braid recalled in a moment what the woodcutters who saved his life said to him before they send him off on his own. According to those kind folk, there were just certain people who you don't mess with. Sort of like Orcish chieftains, except these wouldn't have the muscle to prove their status. Lady Morowen definitely belonged to that category.

So killing a noble, even when they ask for it? Probably even more trouble than the werewolves in the long run.

Braid smiled at the Lady Morowen's request.

"Nah", He replied.

With one swift movement he grabbed the noble lady and swung her over his shoulder.

"All right brothers!" Braid shouted at his fellow party members, "Someone lead the way to someone more capable to deal with this!"
 
Renvir stops Braid and the rest of the party before we move. "Wait." He says with a pause. "The thing that did this, the werewolf, will most likely get away if we do not begin our pursuit now and the longer we take the more damage he'll do." He takes a moment for dramatic effect. "It may be better if we adhere to the lady's request, after all we cannot guarantee she'll survive." He says sadly.
 
Willan didn't know much about werewolves but tried his best to wrap his head around lady Morwen's story. He felt a sorrowful admiration for this poor woman.

She's nothing like the nobles I've known. She's been wounded and... and.. cursed. But she's still working for the safety of her people. Now she wants us to end her life so she's not a threat to them as well. Shaking his head in wonder. No, not selfish at all.

Now, more than ever, going to get help seemed like the best thing to do. Seeing Braid turn down the lady's request and scoop her up, Willan quickly runs through places in town that might be a help. Yes! The church!

Renvir cautions the group once more, but Willan is already on his feet beckoning Braid to follow with the lady. "The best way to guarantee failure is to quit! Follow me strong Braid! This duchy needs lady Morwen! If we're quick, it'll only take a few minutes to get her the help she needs!"

Picking up his thrown torch, Willan dashes out of the throne room, through the blood stinking halls and out into the night.
 
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"Don't fear, milady. Our party is strong and the luck of the gods is on our side. I swear to you, we will save you."

To soothe her, Parundar takes out his drum and drums up a bit of inspiration for her, hoping that it will lift her spirits so that her body can fight the ailment more effectively.

"You mustn't give up, you mustn't give in. I'm playin' my drum, to give you power within!"
 
Renvir seeing the futility in his words, as his companions are much nobler than him and a little less devious, he concedes to the general consensus of the party. "Fine, but with great haste we must go." He says almost regretfully. Renvir begins move along with the party, attempting to keep up with their pace. Though knowing possible futility in the situation, he keeps this to himself, not wanting to lower the confidence of his friends.
 
Upon Braids refusal and subsequent man handling, Lady Morowen attempts to fight him off, yelling and flailing. Her mood is calmed by the rhythmic beating of Parundar's drum.

The group arrive at a temple to Lathander in Daggerford after only a few minutes. Inside, the cleric greets them all and inquireds what he can help them with, but soon see's the lady struggling on the shoulder of the half-orc and begins to act very frightened.

Lady Morowen explains the situation to the cleric, slightly less coolly than she had in the keep, and pleads for one of you to end her life before it is too late. "Those monsters are out there, and I will become one of them, too, if you don't kill me now!" She screams as she looks down at the now nearly entirely closed up wound.

The cleric, now even more shaken, explains that there is noone with the type of magic that mght save her from this curse in town, and not knowing how long you had, he brokenheartedly suggests that killing the duchess and heading after the beasts would be your best option. He agrees to be your witness, though he is clearly upset about it.
 
Renvir loses a little colour in his face. He turns to the cleric "Well, ah... erm, I guess we have no choice. Thank you for being your understanding." He pauses, slowly regaining his posture, before turning to the party "Does any of you wish to do the honours?" He says obviously unwilling to do the deed itself, only knowing the deed needs to be done.
 
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Hearing the words of the cleric, Willan's tentative optimism comes crashing down. Looking at the insistent, and unfathomably brave woman before him, Willan resigns himself to the advise of Renvir, the cleric and the lady. "My dear lady, we will do this, and then we will go hunt your husband. You have my word."

Turning to the cleric, "The lady has seen so much violence tonight. Is there anything you can do to help make her's a more peaceful transition?"

Seeing the cleric's relieved nod, Willan takes lady Morwen hand and gently guides her over to the cleric, "We're your men. We'll take care of everything. Now please, calm yourself. The cleric will help." Willan lets go of her hand, gives his companions a grim look and, with a shaking hand, reaches for his dagger.

I've grown so bitter and angry against the nobles for their treatment of their people. I've dreamed that one day I would be brave enough kill the worst of them - but here I am, killing the best of them - at her request!

Willan tries not to think of what he is about to do to an unconscious woman but knowing that he must do it right or risk allowing another murderous beast to terrorize the people. Not knowing the right way to go about the task, he looks to Braid who seems to know all manner of ways to kill people. Lifting his dagger he mouths, "How?"
 
If Braid's eyes rolled even further they'd be out the door by now. These people really didn't have any strong chains? Or even just a bit of patience for a stronger healer to show up? He let out a big sigh as he crossed his arms. Braid then leaned against the wall seeing the scene in front of him unfold.

Renvir didn’t seem willing to get his hands dirty. Willan was, which surprised Braid a bit. The halfling stood there, dagger at the ready. Lady Morowen fell asleep on the floor. She finally seemed to be at peace. At least this would be over soon.

Oh, Willan’s hands were shaking. Braid couldn’t exaclty blame the sorceror. He remembered how messy his first kill was. It was only a small deer, but it didn’t go down easily. Braid’s first javelin throw was unsure. His sweat made the weapon slip his hands. The young half-orc still hit his target, but not quite at what he was aiming for. The deer ran. The older kids laughed at Braid. Their laughter drove him to chase the wounded animal.

It took hours, and the sun had already set. Finally Braid found his prey. The young animal was exhausted. It breathed heavily, clearly in pain.

When Braid made eye contact with the deer, the world seemed to be still for a moment.

Braid experienced the same stillness as Willan mouthed “How?” to him. The half-orc blinked. He could feel his hands going for his axe. He looked down.

The deer had closed his eyes. Its mouth lay open. For a moment the heavy breaths had synchronised with his own. Then they stopped.

Lady Morowen’s head rolled over the floor. Cold sweat dripped from Braid’s forehead. As he quickly wiped them off, he looked back at the rest of the party and the priest.

“So, any reason why we couldn’t just wait until she had turned?”
 
Renvir though uncomfortable with such an execution, does not turn away. And in doing so noticed the finer points of apparel on the body. Attempting to keep himself at arms length from the pooling blood, he crouches down, pretending to seem sympathetic you the late duchess. Grasping her lifeless hand with both of his hands, keeping his head down, he subtly slides of her wedding ring before depositing it into his own pocket. Taking a moment for dramatic effect. He stands and steps away from the body.

Facing Braid, a bit puzzled at such a question, "We could not risk her turning, it would be easier for both her and us to kill her now. No need to endure such drama. I'm sure you'll get to fight soon enough do not worry about that"

"Though this is a sad time, we shall not let her death be in vain." He sighs and turns to the Deacon. "Deacon, I thank you for your service and your willingness to be our witness, but atlas we must make our move." He turns back to the party, straightening himself out with a pull of his coat. "Well I guess it is up to us now, are any of you good at tracking such beasts, because I know I am certainly not."
 
Upon hearing the cleric's words affirming the futility of his actions and the emptiness of his promise, Parundar sighs. For fear of interrupting her slumber, he stops playing his drum and puts it away.

I've lost another life...

He pinches the top of his nose, on the bridge between his eyes, to stop the tears beginning to form and eek their way out.

As Braid pulls out his axe, Parundar turns away and vows to himself, to the dying Lady, that he'll make things right.

My word is my bond. I've broken it, and I'm in your debt, my Lady.
 
The horrified cleric rushes you out the door, frantically trying to figure out how he is going to clean up the mess that has been made. He sets you on the most direct route to the woods that the duchess had described and swiftly slams the temple doors behind him, leaving you four alone in the night. You head off to the woods where you had heard the wolf's call, and Braid quickly picks up a trail.

As you trek through the woods, the trail fairly simple to follow, you notice that the area around is becoming quite foggy. Everywhere you look is a dense grey cloud, and it seems like you can make out images in the mist. Claw-like hands made of fog tempting you further into the woods. Braid notices that after about an hour, landmarks that he had expected to see along your path are seemingly not there. Slowly you all begin to notice that the trees are not the same type that grow in the area around Daggerford. As these strange things continue to become apparent, the trail you have been following becomes harder and harder to keep.

More than two hours after setting off, you finally reach a small opening in the trees and find yourselves on a road surrounded on both sides by gnarled trees, seemingly clawing at the dense fog that still surrounds you. There are dark pools of water on the side of the road.
 
Braid always felt more at ease in the woods. Yet here the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up straight. He shivered for a moment.

The half-orc took a deep breath. His thoughts raced. Did they take a wrong turn somewhere? No, that wouldn’t explain these trees. Or all that creepy mist. Plus Braid hadn’t gotten lost in a long time. This felt more…unnatural.

No use thinking about it now. They had a job to do.

“I don’t like this,” Braid said to the group, “Let’s move.”

Braid then took point, holding the greataxe in his hands.
 
Renvir never really like the woods, he preferred the city life to be honest. So being more or less lost in a foggy forest with strange trees tracking werewolves was not exactly his idea of fun.

Reaching the path was a relief, or at least as much as it could be in such a situation. "Finally a path, I feared we would get lost in this horrid place." He takes a breath, "I don't trust anything here." He says eyes darting around.

"Shall we continue along the road? It may be likely the werewolf has taken a liking to a nearby town." He says shoulders hunched, not very pleased with the situation he's in.
 
Hearing the wolf's call, Parundar pulls out his crossbow and holds it at the ready.

I am more accustomed to running from trouble, rather than seeking it out. Parundar chuckles at this realization, clearly inappropriate for the moment that's largely silent.

"I'd like to pitch in my vote for the road. I've only heard and deduced a bit about nature, I'd much rather stick to paths of humanity."
 
Hands shaky, Willan looked to Braid for some guidance. He *couldn't* mess this up. Braid seemed to understand but then his eyes went out of focus, unhooked the axe from his belt with one hand and gently moved Willan out of the way with the other. Before Willan knew what was going on, the deed was done. Seeing the way Braid went about the grisly task, Willan realized he had a lot to learn about these sorts of things.

Before he knew it, they had been shooed out by the deacon and were on the trail of the beasts. Little was spoken as the small group made their way through the woods. The three, being less accustomed to the woods, at times struggled to keep up with Braid who, was obviously hot on the trail.

Willan didn't know much about the woods. Most of his time spent outdoors was on the farms of his community and he hated every minute of it. He had dedicated a good portion of his early life to escaping the fields. Even so, even *he* found something off putting about their current surroundings. He trusted Braid though. Well... kinda.

Eventually they came to a clearing and Braid stopped suddenly. Was he thinking? Had he lost the trail? Was he hungry? Of course he was hungry.

Wanting to feel useful, Willan inspected some nearby pools of water. Hrm, yes... cool clean water, nothing sinister here. No tracks, but had it rained recently? Perhaps... hrm? Willan noticed his companions already on the move again, following the road.

Happy to have someone to follow again, Willan stepped into line.
 
The gravel road you follow leads you to a village, its tall houses dark as tombstones. Nestled among these solemn dwellings are a handful of closed-up shops. Even the tavern is shut tight.

Soft wimpering draws youe eye toward a pair of children standing in the middle of an otherwise lifeless street.
 
Braid’s shoulders tightened. This village was just as creepy and strange as the forest. Wherever they were, it definitely wasn’t a good place. The crying kids didn’t help matters. Why were they out here anyway ? Where were the human adults in this situation ? Dozens of questions popped in Braid’s mind, but he knew he wasn’t going to get some answers on his own.

Braid stopped and beckoned the rest of the party

«You’re all better with… people, » Braid said, « Anyone willing to talk to them ? »
 
Yes! Civilization! Willan was so excited to get out of the woods but as they got closer, something wasn't right. No people. Shops boarded up. Absolutely qui.... no wait. Willan heard a soft whimpering and called quietly to his companions, "You hear that?"

Ahead, in the middle of the road, Willan saw two children. They look so frightened. He got out some food and water hoping to get their attention and call them over. They didn't seem to notice him at first and seemed extremely occupied by something. The little boy was crying and the slightly older girl was trying to shush him.

Willan replied to Braid, "Yes, I think I'm about the right size for this job. Just try to stay back and not scare them off will you?" Looking to Parundar, "Maybe a soft beat would help?"

Trying to look as non-threatening as possible, Willan eased his way closer. Calling out softly to the girl, Willan took a knee, "Hey there, my name is Willan. I don't mean to startle you but I see your brother is upset." Pulling out a piece of cheese and some water, "I have some yummy cheese he could nibble on while you tell me what's going on."

Willan takes a small bite of the cheese and a swig of water while he waves the kids over to him.
 
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