Party 9

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By the time Bronria registers the sound of quick footsteps and goes for her sword, the newcomer's rapier is already levelled at her chest. She freezes, then takes a breath and begins to study the woman's face. For one bizarre moment she imagines it's the warrior woman they'd been travelling with - but no, this one's attire is different, and her eyes are a muted gold. And... damp?

Hoping her assumptions are correct, Bronria slowly straightens her back. Maybe this woman is the sort to look up to nobility. "We are reserve forces from Daggerford, presently hunting the lycanthropes that made off with Lady Morwen's daughter." There's no warmth in her tone, but she tries to at least keep her voice soft. Armoured or not, an attack from such close quarters might kill her. "Please, lower your blade. No harm will come to you if you do not trouble us."
 
His surprise complete, Abalister can only watch the scene unfold before him. Unable to make out too many details through the fog, even though they had closed ranks some, he could make out a lithe form, a woman maybe, and brandishing a rapier at Bronria. He knew that she could take care of her self judging by the way she carries herself, but in the moment, he searches for a spell to aid. His mind careens through his memory palace but, in the heat of the moment, he finds that doors are slamming before him, not allowing access to the libraries where he keeps his works.

The frustration throws up further blocks as his mind is impeded by itself. He blinks, staring over his half-moon spectacles, at the two women, knowing full well that if the newcomer was an attacker, that there was nothing that he could do to thwart her.

Thankfully, it doesn't seem to escalating as Bronria retaliates with words instead of sword. Abalister casually glances down at Kellen to see what the gnome is doing and furrows his brow, knowing that he needs to be mentally better if they are tracking down lycanthropes.
 
Kellen is shocked as a woman steps in front of Bronria threatening her with a sword. His first instinct is a very gnomish one, he goes to take a step back into the fog, hoping to conceal himself, as the woman turns her eyes towards him. He knows he's been seen so does the next natural thing. Opening his hands he says "I may be short and perhaps ugly to humans, but I am no monster. My friend here, Bronria, speaks true. We are hunting our lady and patron's malefactors." His right hand rests in position to be able to cast catapult, he glanced around, hoping to find an object that could be useful - trying to make it look simply like nerves. "If you wish to find monsters we can perhaps point you in the right direction?".
 
"Find monsters?" Ordienna scoffs at the gnome. She pauses, eyeing the two men through the fog, before surprise overcomes her and her rapier drops a hair. "Wait, I recognize you. Lady Morwen called upon you before the devastation, did she not?"

The bard drops her sword hesitantly now, setting it back in its place. Her guard is down now, something that does not bring her comfort, but if she is going to make it out alive she's not going to do it alone. Still, she has no idea the full power of these beasts. Her hand does not fully release her rapier. "You are hunting these monsters? Are you fools? I saw, in the city, the power of these things. They tore the Lady's guards to pieces. I have no questions on whether the Lady's daughter is still alive. I can tell you now she is not. Flee with me elsewhere, leave behind this mess."

The minstrel knows that they will not abandon this hopeless quest before they even answer, still she must argue for her own sake. Should they choose to chase down the beasts, Ordienna is not sure what she will do. Perhaps she will travel with them until she can get away safely. "What came of the Lady Morwen? Did she meet the same fate as her guards and her people?"
 
As the sword lowers, Bronria lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. Internally chastising herself for her earlier carelessness, she grips the strap of her shield more firmly as she formulates a response. "The Duchess-"

No, wait. Best not to tell the whole story. "- was injured, but lives yet. We gave her our word that we would retrieve the child, and we shall." Now to play offence. Bronria lifts her head just a little. "What brings yourself to these woods, so soon after the attack?" she asks, neutrally enough, though the implication in her words is clear.
 
Ordienna smirks at the woman. "Do you think the Dutchess was the only one attacked? I'm fleeing for my life, as any sane person would."

For a second, she hears the screams, smells the blood, as if it were happening again. Her smirk drops and her eyes focus on seemingly nothing. Her mouth is dry as she speaks. "There is only death the way you tread, but going with you is better than facing these horrors alone. Would you allow my company?"
 
The scholar listens intently as the women speak, Abalister quickly surmises that either the new woman was witness to the attack that slew the guards at Daggerford. His brow furrows intently as he looks her over. He steps forward, head cocked to one side as he speaks, "I may not speak for the entire group, but considering, uhhhh, what we are up against, I do n-n-not believe another body is a bad th-thing."
 
"Agreed!" Kellen pipes in "I was just saying that perhaps its a foolish idea to continue blindly, and perhaps we should wait until morning. Are these werewolves wandering the forest? Have you seen them since the attack?"
 
As she watches the scholar and the gnome confer, Bronria's mailed hand clenches and unclenches on her shield. "If we stop now," she cuts in across Kellen's questions, "we lose the initiative to these beasts. We will hunt them down tonight." Expecting no further argument, she turns to the newcomer. "Evidently you can handle yourself in a fight, miss. If you have a talent for tracking as well, your help would be appreciated. Otherwise, there is a safe bed waiting for you in Daggerford."
 
Nothing safe is left in Daggerford. Ordienna doesn't say it. Instead she shifts to one hip, trying to keep a steady face. "Yes, gnome. I saw a pack of them, however I don't know which way they went. My name's Ordienna. I don't know too much about tracking, but I do know these parts and will be of whatever help I can."
 
Frowning at the prospect of continuing the search while combating the darkness and fog, the scholar shakes his head. He looks briefly at Ordienna and offers a weak smile, replying, "Well m-met, Ordienna," but cuts short his reply, his attention turning to Bronria as he posits, "Chasing after lycanth-thropes is dangerous enough. With this fog, our lights are making it harder to see through the h-h-haze and without them, we are traveling in, uhm, darkness." He blinks before also noting, "Not to mention that you have t-two practitioners of the, ahh, the arcane who could m-melt your face accidentally if our spells were to, uhm, misfire or if we can't see our t-t-target."

He raises a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, the half-moon spectacles rising and lowering with his finger movements. Neither prospect bodes well for the child, but the truths are evident, he silently mulls. He glances first to the gnome and then back to the two women, all their features fairly obscured. Behind them, he can barely make out the trunks of trees only feet away as the glow emanating from his staff is causing the fog to turn to sheets of white around them. No, I don't want to run into any werewolves in these conditions, he reaffirms.
 
Kellen would usually enjoy a good debate, however he found himself wanting to appease the large and clearly anxious Bronria. "Hmm... Perhaps, there is a way we can advance without getting lost or surprised. I have only tried this once with less than spectacular results. I could, hrrm, see through my familiar's eyes, whilst you guide my blind body." He thought back to the last time he tried this, in his rather safer forest. Watching himself through Nimble's eyes, trying to walk in a straight line through the forest. He had been glad no one was around to see and had made up a story for his family when he returned scratched and bruised from his stroll.

"Yes, yes, you could guide me, or carry me?" He says, raising an eyebrow at Bronria. "And I believe I will be able to speak directions." He paused and smiled. "I guess ill get to hear what I sound like to Nimble."
 
Ordienna. The name is of course unfamiliar, but hearing it sparks unwelcome new thoughts. Disturbed, Bronria glances back at both the scholar and the gnome. I don't know either of their names. But what can she do now? They both know who she is, and there's no way she's going to own up now and put herself at a disadvantage.

Composure restored, she listens to the magic users' suggestions with a poker face that devolves into a frown as the gnome outlines a plan for moving forward. Well, to hell with it; she'll suffer the indignity if it means journeying through the night as she had planned. "That sounds agreeable to me. Lead on, gnome." Mercifully, she realises that the need to keep her shield on hand limits the options for carrying him, so she takes the gnome by the hand instead, watching his face for signs of any magic taking effect.
 
Deciding to press on through the fog, the group of you stumble around blindly for a bit before coming across a road, paved with rough cobbles, that runs right to left, cutting across your original travel route. Before you have a chance to decide whether or not to follow it, let alone which direction to take, you all hear the distinct sound of a horse's hooves approaching along the road from your right, heralding an approaching figure still hidden by the mists.
 
Inwardly, the scholar smiles somewhere in the recesses of his mind, congratulating be the clever use of the gnome's familiar. He'll need to note that down somewhere. The smile does not resonate outward, however, as the same vaguely frightened grimace splayed across his features does not change.

He doesn't offer any commentary as they travel, staying only a few steps back from the warrior led gnome, the grip on his lit walking stick causing the skin about his knuckles to whiten. He scans the fog impotently even though he recognizes the effort as futile.

The sound of hoof beats has him stopping in his tracks, one hand reaching down to a belt pouch at his side while his mind searches out the library in his mind where his spells are stored.
 
Bronria's feeling of dull relief at coming across the road is eclipsed a moment later by the noise of hoofbeats. Halting by the side of the road, she releases the gnome's hand and pats him heavily on the shoulder, hoping to jostle him out of his trance while her mind races to find the best course of action. A stranger on the road could be anyone - though at this hour, her first guess would be a highwayman. Still, any non-lycanthrope would be a welcome sight, and she imagines a lycanthrope wouldn't be travelling by horse.

A forthright approach, then. "Hail!" she calls out, taking a step closer to the road so as to be visible when the rider emerges from the mist.
 
"Tenebris," exhales the scholar, his staff going dark at the word, as he crouches down upon hearing Bronria's word. His brow furrowed with worry, he remains back a few steps away from the road, trying his best to remain unseen. It all seems like such a bad idea, the words echoing within his head, crashing off the walls as dread starts to manifest again. As the reality of their situation assails him, his inner self falters and he seems to lose his way in his own mind as he seeks out his spell library.

Swallowing, he closes his eyes briefly in attempt to wrestle his fear away to allow his mind to do what it does best.
 
The sound approaches, and the first thing you see is a faint light shining through the mists. However, what draws your attention isn't the light itself, but the countless faces that it highlights in the mists, which writhe and scream in silent agony for a brief moment before dissipating back into the fog. Too detailed to be a trick of the light, the faces distract you, so that you almost don't notice the silhouette appearing behind them. At first, all you can make out is the shape of a horse and rider, but it soon becomes apparent that both the horse and rider are skeletal, with only the barest shreds of cloth and armour covering their bones. The rider doesn't appear armed, but it does hold the horse's reigns in one hand, and in the other, it holds an antique brass lantern, which is the source of this haunting light.
 
She had planned to call out again, but her words fail at the sight of the skeletal rider emerging from the faces in the mist. Bronria finds herself rooted at the side of the road, recalling every nighttime story her siblings told her of the undead creatures that haunt the dark places of the world. Before she can think, her sword is drawn. "Halt," she says, acutely aware of how unthreatening her voice sounds. Can the undead feel fear? Can they even comprehend speech?

By instinct she takes a step to the side, interposing herself between the rider and the gnome. She doesn't dare turn her head to see where Ordienna and the scholar might be.
 
Feet crunching loudly in the underbrush beneath him, the scholar takes a few steps back, completely caught off guard by the sights flitting before his eyes. It is all too much to take in at once and his field of vision narrows and the edges waver into the darkness. His heel catches on a root and he falls unceremoniously onto his bottom, various vials and components clanking together in his pouches. His mouth moves but no sound escapes his lips as he turns his head, looking at the ghastly apparitions before they disperse. He blinks a few times, raising a hand to rub at his right eye.

He wished he had not, for as he pulls away his hand, he sees the rider holding aloft the brass lantern and freezes. Terror grips at his heart and breath is hard to come by. The thoughts of lycanthropes from earlier and now this...
 
No, no, no... Ordienna sinks behind the woman and the gnome, her heart pounding in her chest. Why me, why me. Her mind is a fury of nonsense as her eyes dart, trying to find an exit or escape route. She had thought she was safe but the minstrel is realizing what a fool she is. The woman seems nervous and she sees the straight fear in the scholars eyes. No, these people would not be her saviors.

Her mind only partially recognizes the shapes, the death, around them. Slowly, further and further she backs away, unwilling to draw the attention of these things. If these people would not fight, she would run.
 
The horse and rider draw closer, eyes fixed straight ahead, until they reach the section of the road right beside Bronria. As one, the two heads of horse and rider turn to look at her. The humanoid skull begins moving its jaw, as if trying to speak, though no sound comes out. Nevertheless, they do not stop, and once they pass the group of you, the heads turn back to looking forward as they continue down the path.
 
As the rider approaches, Bronria widens her stance and grips shield and sword in hand. When the abomination makes its move, she'll be ready for it. Even if it overcomes her, she'll have bought time for the others to flee and tell the tale. As the seconds crawl by and the horse and rider loom large, she steadies her breath, prepared to attack.

Then they turn to look at her, and the colour drains from her face. She simply stares, wide-eyed, as the two silent beings walk right past her. Even after they turn away, she stays frozen in place; just glancing after them takes an immense effort of will.

You coward.

Shivering, she forces herself to take a step forward, onto the road itself, and turns to look back at the rest of the group. "We cannot let this go," she murmurs, barely audible. Then she begins to walk after the apparition, slowly at first.
 
Waves of panic and fear wash over the scholar as the skeletal horse and rider pass with nothing more than a glance at Bronria. Blankness muffles his brain as if someone had thrown a heavy white blanket over his head. Seconds pass and the clip clop of the beasts hooves are replaced with only the steady and loud thump thump of his heart. The silence is broken as Bronria strides defiantly into the road and murmurs, just loud enough to be heard.

It replays in Abalister's mind, reverberating down the empty hallways of his mind. Her voice seems to pull him back out of the paralysis, the halls and tomes of his mind coming back into focus. He hears her words once more in his brain before furrowing his eyebrows and whispering harshly, "Cannot let this go? Cannot let WHAT go?! Have you lost your mind?"
 
Kellen finds himself pulled back to his body as the skeletal apparition passes them. He realizes he had been staring in fear, and no little bit of wonder, at the creature, but through Nimble's eyes. Nimble, who was still cowering in the branches of a tree overlooking the road.

A pause, and then, "Did it try TALKING to you?" he nearly shouts at Bronria, his fear telling him to be silent, but the question pushing past his throat, all the louder for the effort.

He takes several quick steps to catch up to her, and before he really has a chance to think about what he is doing, pushes his focus to his lips, and with a muttered "Tengwa dol" pushes it in the creature's direction mentally asking it "What are you?"

That might have been stupid. He thinks before stopping his short run beside Bronria.
 
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