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Fantasy World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure [IC] [CLOSED]

The Myrkálfari woman glanced to the pair, a smile appearing on her face. A wave of her fingers made the small flame beneath her glass to disappear into a puff of smoke. "Greetings to the both of you." she said softly, after Cassandra introduced her. Her voice was like fine silk, adding to her already beautiful appearance, but still bore a proper, sophisticated tone. She was clad in a dark blue cloak, which covered a modest white blouse shirt and black leather britches. The cuffed leather boots on her feet matched her britches, as did the leather-bound book and satchel that hung from her waist.

Hmm...a young Hobálfar and a Tengu? Certainly an interesting pairing. Malthara sipped her tea quietly, waiting to see what the two had in store to speak to her friend about. It'd likely be a bit more pleasant to speak about than ancient history.
 
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A Redcap was what they were dealing with, supposedly. Gawain was skeptical as they were mostly just beings of myth, though their existence was certainly plausible. Even if the wizard was mildly curious about discovering them and closing this case, the continued abrasiveness of the Sheriff was wearing his patience thin. His thinking is interrupted by her leveling a finger at him, Gawain putting up his palms weakly as he feigned a defensive gesture.

"Oh please, had you listened well you would have known I was merely relenting the fact that my hands are tied. Simpler solutions exist to your problems, yet you would rather complicate things for no other reason than to be obtuse." he criticizes, putting his hands behind his back. "Just as you are so adamant about pursuing this whimsical murderer with your steel weapons of shoddy make and nothing else. You have people here willing to risk their lives to catch a killer that has just made corpses of people they have never met - yet you turn them away? What is it? Pride? Stupidity?" Gawain asks as he spreads his arms, pausing to await an answer.

"And you would call me mad for the school of magic I practice responsibly. Tch... Such a waste of my time." the skeletal mage says with a shake of his head and a flick of his wrist. "I have better things I should be doing right now. Best of luck with the hunt for your fairytale menace."

Gawain turned his back and began to take his leave, his gait rather nonchalant and calm despite the prior lecture. Once outside he finally comments on Edgar's words: They aren't worth the mana.
 
The offer was quite intriguing for Callop. All his life, he wanted to feel worthy of something but actually had no opportunity to make that dream happen. The boy went quiet for a moment and held his companion while Alberto answered the boy’s questions which piqued his interest even more. On the topic of weapons, Callop had always been curious about swords. To him, it felt like a dance of blades, similar to how magic flows, but this type of combat had more brute force in which he lacked.

All throughout the conversation, Callop didn’t know what to say because he has yet to make a decision until he spoke, “I’m… willing to try! If you promise not to give up on me.” the boy said in a nervous tone. He then looked towards the two knights introduced to him and said, “I’m Callop and my companion here is named Fauxs. It would make me really happy if you are also willing to help me… I mean- if you have time of course!”

After delivering his thoughts, Callop let out a sigh as he always had trouble making decisions for himself. In just a few seconds, Sentry went by the boy’s side and gave him and Fauxs a drink. Callop nodded to Sentry as thanks and helped Fauxs drink first before the boy drank as well.

“A good kid? I missed way too many shots last time!” Callop chuckled. “But I’ll make sure to try my best from here on out.”. During this whole conversation, Fauxs was just beside Callop, lazily sleeping on the corner and only moves if there is food or water involved. Despite the conversation including him, he still paid no attention to it and just rested on the same spot.
 
The bookstore had a lovely interior design, it definetly stook out among the other buildings in Waterham! and the amount of books available was quite impressive, Syll thought that maybe he could have a look at some books after asking around.

At the back of the store they came across a pair of ladies, it was easy to conclude the Hob was Cassandra, the owner of the bookstore, but the other one at her side... it was definetly unexpected to find a pure elf in Waterham, specially a Myrkalfari. And not only that but she clearly gave off the aura of a talented spellcaster.

"Welcome to my store, I am Cassandra Blackwell and my pretty friend there is Malthara Kilrae... we were having a jolly good tea time, haha!"

Syll placed his right hand on his chest and bowed lightly at the two of them.

"Good afternoon, i apologize if we are interrupting you. I am Syllannan Marley and this is my friend Zen, and it may be rude of me but Miss Cassandra, i would rather not beat around the bush, i heard from the city's Sheriff that you are my best bet if i were to ask about Waterham"
 
Korzhev had kept unusually quiet as Dakarai explained the situation to the little Sheriff. Judging by their terrible reactions, the Redcap thing they now had on their hands was not a mere pest. For one reason or another, the Sheriff did not want them to further involve themselves in the case, he still had his doubts whether this enemy was as terrible as the Hobs made it out to be. Well, it’s not like he had encountered one before, so he couldn’t be sure until he actually faced one. Maybe that was enough of a reason to attempt to persuade the little Sheriff to let them continue working on the case. Otherwise, they had Zen and Syll working at it on their own, since their abrupt leave hadn’t gone unnoticed.

There was also the matter of Gawain, who decided to up and leave altogether, clearly done dealing with the Hobs’ crassness. He sighed quietly. While he wasn’t exactly partial to necromancy and the like, he could certainly understand him taking offense after being insulted so relentlessly. Korzhev could maybe try and speak to him later on.

Somewhere in the middle of his contemplation, he noticed Cécilia glancing towards him. He nodded, then walked over to her.

“My, you’ve got yourselves quite the mystery here! Well, madam Sheriff, I don’t see why you would refuse the help of so many experienced magic users! Especially knowing your good selves aren’t really the type to often receive any. From such willing people to boot! Why, I would ask you to trust that our company won’t croak after fighting one man wearing a silly hat. Ah, your concern for our resident Cleric is adorable, but come now, does he really look like this Redcap of yours would cause him even a scratch? The creature he brought along with him; you should see it! Bet it could smash right through stone, maybe!”

“Oh, madam, one last thing! I would much rather keep myself in mister Gawain’s good graces. Who knows when a skeleton might just come in handy? Well, necromancy is not the only sorcery at his disposal, he is quite the famous scholar, I’ll have you know!” He glanced towards Sera for a moment as he spoke, “the options he had presented us thus far were not without reason, dear! He himself merely thought it the simplest solution! Oh, but you shouldn’t think any less of miss Sera! ”

Korzhev looked at the Sheriff one more time, offering his usual cheery smile. “Well, ma’am, will you let us continue to aid you in the search for your red hatted man?”
 
Cecilia's response was comforting but the stubborness of the Hob sheriff didn't help the situation as it seemingly wasn't possible to change her mind, especially as the necromancer's presence didn't help anything at all in doing so. Thankfully he soon afterwards left much to Gsera's pleasure as it could possibly make the situation better to appeal to them. She then cleared her throat and took a deep breath: "Sheriff, I understand that you might not want us to get hurt," she began only to stop momentarily as she saw the Hob's gaze directly staring right at her with an unamused expression.

It made her nearly give up entirely out of anxiety before quickly recomposing herself, "B-but I have an obligation to help as a druid. I know that Máthair... Gaia, would want me to stop life being lost here by such a thing. I-I know that you don't want our help... but with a Redcap you will need it! Otherwise... only more lives will be lost." She then motioned a hand to the others from the company still in the room: "We're all willing to help because it's the right thing to do."
 
After giving her speech, Sentry was pleasantly surprised by Alberto's assistance and it was greatly appreciated. Soon enough those who wished to follow joined.
Count me in, tall lass!
"Your sword will come to use, my friend." She answered his call.
Are you a giant?
"Ha!" The question wasn't expected, but she welcomed it all the same "Only in heart and strength. I was actually one of the shorter members of my king's guard."
Excuse me, miss? Me and my brothers have decided to take a bath of pilgrimage. We are monks of the Messelien Order, and once in our lifetime as Monks, we must engage in a long pilgrimage to see the world and its holy places... we are not defenseless and we know how treat both spiritual and physical wounds... and... do not worry, we don't share the intrusive zeal that other monk orders might share.
"Your services will be greatly appreciated, priest." Sentry gave the man a smile as he reassured her that he wasn't some crazed zealot. Which was a relief. She hadn't had many issues with men and women of the different faiths yet, but she has heard the odd shouting of damnation from time to time. Her attention was briefly taken by the large men from the north before seeing that another dwarf has joined the company. Quite the numbers they have.

"I wonder if we are eligible for an early adoption bonus." She heard a voice joke behind her. Turning around, she saw Waylond with his squire. "Fine speech my lady and wonderful show of talent by your companions."

"They're very good with their instruments." Pot added.

"How about you tell them yourselves?" She waved them over. The two followed her as she separated from the group of new followers and to their bards and dancer. Waiting for an opportune time to talk to them, Sentry finally starts breaking the ice "Devy, Kastalli, Abasi, these two are ser Waylond the swift and his squire, Pottrey." The two bow their heads at the introduction "I met and recruited them shortly before you arrived."

"That she did." Waylond nodded "It's a pleasure to meet you sirs and my lady." He said as he looked to each "And if the nights are filled with music like this, then we very much look forward to traveling with you."
 
After observing the plants, Grunde racked its head for a possible answer. Maybe a t-trinket? The thought unsettled the slime. A trinket, like a specific shade of purple, and the smell of old tomes always reminded them of its old master, and along with it came the feeling of abandonment. Grunde remembers Azalie hunched over a table with multiple gadgets and artefacts scattered around the place as its master tried to create a tool —a trinket— that can absorb the essence of any living thing and to store it for future use. The concept is quite familiar, because from that same concept was Grunde born and just like a trinket, both were meant to be used as a tool. Though, a small part of the slime hoped it meant more to its past master. Am I hard to love? Grunde turned their head to look at their body, finding impurities to blame.

No. The slime thought of Cécilia who always has their back. I'm not. Of the company. I'm fine. And the future it has yet to face. I will be okay.

Grunde came back in time to hear Gawain's sentiments before seeing the undead leave. While the slime usually keeps its distance from the necromancer, it's more of the magical residue Gawain is emanating than Gawain himself. Luckily, it looked like Korzhev had the situation under control and Grunde can't help but to nod their head as the Shaman slowly diffused the situation while both him and Gsera continued to persuade the sheriff. "Let us help. But you should apologize too." Grunde uttered once everyone said their piece. The sheriff's hostility towards Gawain was uncalled for, in Grunde's opinion. The fact that he volunteered to help in the first place was enough reason to show that Gawain didn't mean to cause harm. Then, the slime turned towards Cécilia. "I think red...caps? Used trinkets."
 
Zen

Zen glanced around as him and Syll entered the bookstore. He didn't seems to be interested in the booms and instead focused himself on the voices. Two females, sounds like there's nobody else other than them. Good things to know, didn't want random people getting curious of their business. Turned out the two female was a hob and a... pale elf? Zen wasn't sure, the elves for him looks more or less samey.

"Redcap in Waterham. What do you think about it?" Zen chimed in and he supported Syll's direct approach by immediately asking the question.

EdwardDewey98 EdwardDewey98 Roda the Red Roda the Red Infab Infab
 
With all the entertainers in agreement, Kastalli took her place next to Devereaux, giving her friend a warm smile as they played their instruments in harmony. Infused with her magic, the bell produced a soothing tune that was only emphasized with her friend's phenomenal lute playing skills. As they played, her attention shifted back and forth between Abasi's dancing and Sentry's speech. Abasi certainly had an exotic style of dancing, one that she wished to learn from him should they ever have the time. And even though she was already part of the expedition, Sentry's words motivated her as well. She certainly was a strong and powerful woman, one that Kastalli could easily look up to. Both figuratively and literally of course. Even Sir Alberto joined in the efforts to recruit more men and women for their group, and by the end of the speech and performance, they had quite a few people approaching them to join.

"Excellent dancing, Abasi! Even I had difficulties taking my eyes off you - such fluid movement," she complimented which was followed with a slight flick of her tail. Her ears perked up as Sentry approached the three once more with two men following behind her. Kastalli tilted her head as Sentry introduced them and then offered a friendly smile. "I am deeply happy to have both of you join us, Waylond and Pottrey!" She bowed her head politely, truly pleased that their group was expanding considerably. "Yes! The night's are always enjoyable! If you are ever looking for a dancing partner, I will always be happy to show you a Skæglin dance."

Breadman Breadman Woffy Woffy
 
"And if the nights are filled with music like this, then we very much look forward to traveling with you."

"I have just joined the company myself but you can be sure i will try my best to make every night like this, Im abasi , entretainer" Abasi said cheerfully while his eyes inspected them

"Excellent dancing, Abasi! Even I had difficulties taking my eyes off you - such fluid movement,"

"A lifetime of moving your body to survive will get you to learn a think or two about using it the right way my dear , Much better with such wonderful music from you and devy and rousing speech by our lady friend here" He replied while patting sentry on her arm
 
Much better with such wonderful music from you and devy and rousing speech by our lady friend here
"I've had practice from days past. But it's easier to speak of wonders when you're surrounded by talented performers." She looked to Abasi "Grab yourself a drink and don't mind the barkeep, he's just grumpy. There is more time for dances tonight."

Yes! The night's are always enjoyable! If you are ever looking for a dancing partner, I will always be happy to show you a Skæglin dance.
"Then I should dust off any cobwebs from my artist skills if I am to be in such company." Waylond said "My journey has been full of so much danger that I've forgotten any other pursuits I'm afraid to say."

"Aren't you a man of talents." Sentry turned to him

"The Codex Chivalrous dictates that a knight should strive to be proficient in one art at least." Pottrey spoke up, more confident in what he was saying than usual "Ser Waylond's is wordsmiting."

"I wouldn't be in a hurry to praise my wit. Loss of practice has made my prose quite shit." Waylond spoke to his squire.

"Good enough to humble yourself." The barbarian commented.

"If I don't do it, someone else will." The knight shrugged.

"Right, more of your rules." Sentry shook her head "Just don't make it a habit. Rather not hear those I travel with depreciate their own value." She turned to Kastalli again "Maybe those songs I spoke off will come sooner, no?"
 
Dakarai rose a curious eyelid upon the mention of a "redcap". While he had little clue as to what exactly they were, the collective worry of everyone else around him was quite telling. Even the sheriff was rather disturbed by this sudden realization as she attempted to hastily dismiss the expedition team as to look into the matter herself.

Cecilia attempted to persuade the sheriff to have them assist her, yet she would be met by the hob's short temper. While her heart had softened towards the Sobekan due to his valiant efforts, the same wouldn't be said for the local necromancer, whom the sheriff didn't trust at all. Not that he could blame her of course. It didn't help that the skeleton man still replied sarcastically, remaining as stubborn as he could be before proceeding to walk out the room. Dakarai was displeased at his fellow "general's" behavior, yet the others in the room would find themselves wanting to help the sheriff solve the case. And indeed, after seeing what he had seen, the cleric also felt obligated to bring out justice towards their killer.

He stepped forth and leaned down towards the sheriff. "It would be an injustice for me to leave their deaths unavenged." he commented regarding the deceased couple, "Especially after what I have witnessed. And if this killer is still at large, whatever this 'redcap' is, then I don't believe that it would be easy to go at it alone." His gaze stiffened, "You will need allies, sheriff, and we are offering our services to help you cleanse the filth that plagues this city. Not for money, not even for fame. We serve only to bring about justice and what's morally right. And now that I have lended my services to offer a clue to this puzzle, I personally feel indebted further more to assist this case."

"If you still believe our services are no longer required, sheriff, then so be it. But I believe when fate offers you their hand in times like these, it best be wise to take it..."
 
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Petro was glad to be seated with the young human, Paulin, for the dancing that had emerged from the lively atmosphere made him rather uncomfortable. He glanced down idly at his hooves, which could not twist and turn so nimbly as his flatfooted compatriots. Their moves were much more graceful, more fluid and subtle than his own heavy-footed stomping. Unlike their new friend, Abasi, he possessed no great dexterity to put his body to use in such mesmerizing ways. As such, he found a sufficient role as looking moody to discourage any rowdiness that could erupt. He had seen many bulls lock horns and hands over trifling matters after a round of drinks. While the Hobs were... diminutive in size, and likely unable to shake the place down with their rough housing, there were plenty of sharp objects at hand, and such objects were best dulled when around equally dulled minds.

He glanced around at Paulin, who seemed to have calmed down from his ordeal on the street. He suspected the hobs had been rude to him, which had sent the sensitive one into a nervous flight. Well, that wouldn't be happening here, not with him nearby. Sentry seemed to have the other part of it covered, for he had heard the ruckus at the bar over drinks which contained spit and urine. Hobs were strange people indeed.

"How was home?" he echoed, considering it. "Well... it was nice, I suppose. The hills are covered in flowers and good trees, as are the mountains. The valley fields are fertile, as are the waters which run through the region. Much of the town is built along a ridge, looking far out over the landscape. I worked the quarry that my family has toiled in for generations, breaking stone with my father and learning the ways of the ground, and molded said stone with my grandfather, a master mason. His stonework can even be seen at the new communal forum, the construction finished not so long ago after a near century of work. Same with the bath houses, though these are ancient, and grandfather did not help build these," Petro chuckled. "But he has helped keep them looking pretty, as marble can weather, and when one statue is eroded, another must go up."

Petro took a sip from his mug of milk, savoring it for a moment. Not very fresh, but suitable. "Grandmother is a potter. She preferred shaping with her hands over a chisel, like grandfather. Father would not let me work half as long as he did, so in that time I would assist my grandmother in... pottery." He glanced down at his hands, which instinctively twisted as if shaping a vase. "Pottery of all sorts. Cups, bowls, vases, urns. Little statuettes. Trinkets. But unlike your common pottery, we dye ours. Every item is master crafted," he added with a hint of pride. Then, his eyes became somewhat hooded.

"Not that I... that I dislike that. But my calling is to be a warrior. And that is that." Petro seemed somewhat sullen rather quickly.
 
"Redcap in Waterham. What do you think about it?"

As the tea cup lowered from Malthara's lips, she spoke again. "Red caps are quite delicious, but have hallucinogenic properties if not prepared correctly for consumption. I haven't seen many around Waterham, so I guess I'm surprised by the sudden fungal growth. If you're, however, referring to the creature known as a Redcap... I know little beyond the traditional rumors, myths, and legends. It sounds like a horrid little thing."

She looked to Cassandra after a moment. "Of course, my friend here would likely know far more. Or has a book somewhere around here on them." she said, flashing Cassandra a smile before sipping from her tea cup once again.
 
Syllannan said:
"Good afternoon, I apologize if we are interrupting you. I am Syllannan Marley and this is my friend Zen, and it may be rude of me but Miss Cassandra, I would rather not beat around the bush, i heard from the city's Sheriff that you are my best bet if i were to ask about Waterham."

Cassandra gave the Hobálfar an inquisitive look after his rather straightforward question. "Why, yes!" She said with pride. "I am the only freelance scholar in the city, the only other scholars are under the service of the mayor, and act as archivists of Waterhams history, but I know about our history even before the Hobs settled here." She took another sip of her tea before looking back at Syll. "Well then, what questions you have in mind?"

Zen said:
"Redcap in Waterham. What do you think about it?"
Malthara said:
"Red caps are quite delicious, but have hallucinogenic properties if not prepared correctly for consumption. I haven't seen many around Waterham, so I guess I'm surprised by the sudden fungal growth. If you're, however, referring to the creature known as a Redcap... I know little beyond the traditional rumors, myths, and legends. It sounds like a horrid little thing."

"I... I don't think he means a Fly Amanita my friend..." she said while giving both men a worried look. Malthara looked away for a moment with a puzzled look for a moment before realizing what they were talking about. "I assume... it has something to do with the murders I've been hearing about? I have... something on Redcaps, give me just a second." She said before trying to get a book from the top shelf, but unable to do so due to her height. Seeing this rather comical scene, Malthara used her telekinesis to lower the book Cassandra was looking at. "T-thanks friend... e-ehem, this is "On the early history of the Hobare and their myths", a detailed book about the origins of the various Hobare peoples, not including Goblins sadly since some ignorant fools refuse to accept the similarities... but I digress." She blew the dust off the book and lays it down on the table for everyone to read. Syll and Zen wondered why they needed a book on ancient Hob history, and not a book about Fae and the various fairies that come from the Seelie and Unseelie Courts.

Cassandra cleared her throat and had a last sip of tea before reading outloud an specific part of the book, detailing the separation of a larger, more powerful tribe.

"The Hobare tribes lived by the great woods known as the Eonach Coillte for hundreds of years before the men of the "Golden Eagle", which is believed to be the Martorian Empire, kicked them out of the woods during their war with Tuatha and the Fir Bolg, there were five great clans. But after the war with the Martorians, only three clans remained. Which were Clan Hobrennus, Clan Kerrog and Clan Graggos. Due to the fact the forests were compromised by the Martorians and the Swadi, the three remaining clans marched west and that's when small tribal confederation developed a few problems in the unlikely alliance. Clan Hobrennus wanted to keep marching west until they arrived at coast of Western Helmos, but the clan Kerrog and clan Graggos refused. Clan Hobrennus marched west, while Clan Kerrog marched north, deeper into the forests and Clan Graggos went down south into the Highlands."

"Hobs are the descendants of clan Hobrennus."
she continued, her mind was now clearly consumed by the book. "...and Hob legend says that they were blessed by the goddess Gaia and she was the one that allowed us to create our first city. back then known as Ham."

Both Zen and Syll noticed Cassandra frown a bit, so did Malthara as she continue drinking her tea. "I um... sorry, I forgot this book includes some... biases... e-ehem...." She continued reading, although she was clearly uncomfortable.

"...and while Clan Kerrog, who would later become the Korrigan, who kept worshiping their pagan Gods, they continued to survive in the woods, dancing like the mad men they are -- But clan Graggos couldn't survive in the Highlands, the lack of resources and animals to hunt or raise reduced the population of the clan at an alarming rate. It was a terrible existence, and they couldn't move out of the Highlands because of a war that broke out between the Martorian Empire and the Empire of Goldemar, the Dwarven realm. Without many resources... the began to worship Demons, hoping that they would listen to their pleas since their heathen Gods had abandoned them and that's when the Dark One, Nyarlaexedum... blessed them with caps... white cloth caps that had great power for a huge price... Blood."

Cassandra closed the book and sighed. "...but that's just Church nonsense, a theorem written by several unbiased scholars, alongside the testimonies of a few Redcaps, we know the truth. It's true that inhabiting the southern Highlands proved detrimental to the clansmen of Graggos, but they didn't worship demons, they worshiped their Gods, the original Gods of the Hobare, the same that are worshiped by the Korrigan. However, at some point they started to worship a Hobare war God known simply as the "Harvester" who then taught a shaman how to enchant a phrygian cap. It blesses them with incredible power in exchange of blood... but I do want to make this clear, not all Redcaps use humanoid blood, most use cattle and prefer to live far away from others in small communities."

Having already assumed that they were looking into the murders and have a suspicion on its killer, the young Hob looked at both men with an inquisitive look. "Does the Sheriff know about this? Or are you just... two strangers willing to help Waterham?"


While Gawain had left the room, everyone else still inside continued to express their willingness to help the Sheriff in this case, but each word muttered by the party seemed to make her angrier and angrier, to the point her face was becoming as red as a tomato. That didn't stop the party though, while some of them do not understand the danger a Redcap might possess, they couldn't just walk away knowing well they could help the Sheriff and Waterham.

Korzhev said:
“Oh, madam, one last thing! I would much rather keep myself in mister Gawain’s good graces. Who knows when a skeleton might just come in handy? Well, necromancy is not the only sorcery at his disposal, he is quite the famous scholar, I’ll have you know! the options he had presented us thus far were not without reason, dear! He himself merely thought it the simplest solution! Oh, but you shouldn’t think any less of miss Sera! Well, ma’am, will you let us continue to aid you in the search for your red hatted man?”

(1d10+2 = 8 | Success.) The Sheriff gave the Vodyanov an unreasonable hated look for a moment. But he was speaking about some interesting facts she should have learned about Gawain. He is indeed a great scholar and necromancy is not the only sorcery at his disposal. A strong or decent wizard could deal with a Redcap, that is if the Redcap in question was weak or inexperienced. As she thought about it, Gsera spoke in an attempt to convince the sheriff to let them help.

Gsera said:
"B-but I have an obligation to help as a druid. I know that Máthair... Gaia, would want me to stop life being lost here by such a thing. I-I know that you don't want our help... but with a Redcap you will need it! Otherwise... only more lives will be lost. We're all willing to help because it's the right thing to do."

(1d10+2 = 10 | Critical Success.) The Sheriff was about to laugh at her face, since when has foreigners cared about Waterham? Since when did humans, elves, tuatha and whatever else that walks on two legs ever felt the need to help the Hobs? In her life time two human realms attempted to conquer this city and that's not counting all the times the Skæglins attempted to raid them and yet, there was a real sincerity in Gsera's words and that was making the sheriff question her thoughts, and that made her angrier.

Grunde said:
"Let us help. But you should apologize too."

(1d10 = 4 | Minor Success.) Grunde didn't have much to say in the matter, they had found some information but they believed the Sheriff had to apologize to Gawain for all the bad things they have said to him, and that annoyed the Sheriff greatly but deep inside, she knew that this green slime meant well. Even if it and Gawain were monsters, they were sentient, they were there and offering help, perhaps she needed to just accept them or at the very least, hear them out.

Dakarai said:
"You will need allies, sheriff, and we are offering our services to help you cleanse the filth that plagues this city. Not for money, not even for fame. We serve only to bring about justice and what's morally right. And now that I have lended my services to offer a clue to this puzzle, I personally feel indebted further more to assist this case. If you still believe our services are no longer required, sheriff, then so be it. But I believe when fate offers you their hand in times like these, it best be wise to take it..."

(1d10 = 3 | Minor Failure.) Despite any conflicting thoughts in her head, it was clear by now that the sheriff was incredibly annoyed by everyone's attempt at convincing her. Dakarai was presenting incredibly solid points and if the sheriff had more patience for it, she'd definitely hear him out, but right now she just ignore him. It appeared that Sheriff had made up her mind, until Cécilia walked in a bit closer, one of the constables took off his hat to hide behind it as it was clear that Sheriff was about to snap at the scholar, but Cécilia knew she needed to convince the sheriff to let them help Waterham.

"Please... mademoiselle, listen to Dakarai, he saw these people's soul before they left our plane and Gsera and Grunde here gathered useful clues that could help you. I understand that you don't trust outsiders, but you need to listen to us, we all have good intentions here despite our different approaches to this case. Gawain, for example, he didn't mean anything bad and only wanted to help. We all are trying to help... please, listen to us..." (1d10 = 5 | Minor Success.) (Overall Result = 30 | Critical Success!)

After her heartfelt words. The Sheriff looked away for a moment, before letting out an annoyed shout then suddenly punching a hole through a wall that quaked the entire building, everyone looked surprised as the Sheriff removed her bleeding and broken fist from the rubble. "FUCKING HEL!" She shouted before taking a deep breath, then pointing at Cécilia. "Every bloody time we let 'em foreigners help us, they try to screw us over... Brannorians and Eranoirans... all the bloody same! But please, PLEASE... ya lot sound sincere... please do not disappoint me... because even if we will do everythin' to take down 'em Redcaps... I know a lot of me lads will die... they deal with the worst type of hexes and magics... Blood Magic."


"They have the history to justify their views..." said Edgar inside of Gawains mind as he walked down the streets of Waterham, every citizen and constable avoiding him or running away in fear at the sight of the undead wizard. "...and yet the bigotry and hostility of the Hobs makes them so unapproachable, does it not? I can tell that while you don't exactly care about them, there is a tinge of sadness running through your mind." What was there to say? Specially now that they were approaching the herb shop. "Ah, the store of the Magi... I wonder if this person will actually bring you useful information." Something that Gawain pondered about as well as he opened the door to the store.

Inside there was a varied assortment of bottles filled to the brim with colored potions. Most of them were dedicated at healing specific diseases such the pox or syphilis or they could treat camp fever. Diseases and ailments that would affect the fleshy bodies of the every day peasant. But there were a few potions of a much more complex design, hinting that the owner of this humble store was an experienced alchemist. As he looked at the bottles, Gawain heard a gasp coming from a door behind the counter, when he turned to look at it, he saw a young boy standing there, he didn't say anything but he was clearly afraid of him.

"... B-b-bubbeh!" shouted the boy as he stood there, then a man came from behind the boy, grabbing the child's shoulders with his wizened hands. When Gawain looked at the man behind the child, he saw a very old man with long graying-white hair, long beard, his dark eyes and serious gaze which made the man look rather imposing despite the fact he was only a bit shorter than Gawain. "Hmm... shalom aleichem..." said the
Alchemist, Yeshua ben Abbas, in his native tongue. "...how can I help you?"




Things continued to be lively at the tavern. As Abasi and Kastalli talked with one another, Devereaux continued playing music for his loving new audience of rugged warriors and romantic adventurers. While the party started to get more lively with good music, the owner and her husband started to realize that they might need a lot more food and drink to keep up with everyone's needs, specially now that more members of the company were walking in, shouting and singing alongside Devy's music.


As that continued, Alberto made his way back to the table where Callop was sitting.

Callop said:
“A good kid? I missed way too many shots last time! But I’ll make sure to try my best from here on out.”

"Oh, please young man do not disregard your own abilities! You are an orphan that has been living on their own for a while and you've got yourself a wonderful companion!" Alberto then patted Callops head, like he used to do it with his own children and grand children. "...me and the other knights will make sure you become stronger and better... now, relax! We marched for three days straight, I think you deserve to enjoy your time! Also... don't tell miss Kastalli or miss Sentry..." he said as he handed the boy a mug of beer. "I promise you, it's a good brew! Have a small taste!" He said with a friendly smile.


Petrocles said:
"Not that I... that I dislike that. But my calling is to be a warrior. And that is that."

Paulin simply sat there looking at Petro with starry eyes. There was so much in the Minotavurs story that he related to. "I... I see... I think the same, I started in the hamlets surrounding Eran... and I didn't mind farming onions with my family, it was a decent living." He said with a nostalgic touch in his melodious voice. "But... well, like I said before we left Eran, I lost them to the Blood Brick."

It wasn't hard to tell for Petro that Paulin was trying to not think too much about his history back home. But as soon as the young Eranoiran's sad expression came it quickly changed to that friendly smile he usually has. "But from a young age I always dreamed about travelling and fighting against monsters and meeting new and cool people... l-like you, Petro!" he said that last part with a friendly chuckle. "Well, I say we have a toast on that... for us starting young adventurers!" Lifting his arm up, Paulin clashed his mug of ale with Petro's mug of milk before drinking it quickly. "H-hah! yes... that's the stuff!" he exclaimed before putting the mug down. "...h-hey, want to dance?" He said while grabbing one of Petro's big fingers. Petro clearly wasn't interested in that but then, the young Eranoiran shouted for the newest addition to the party. "H-hey! Monseigneur Abasi! ...would you mind to teach us how to dance?"
 
Zen

Zen listened to the hob's explanation wuth a mix of curiousity and confusion. He was curious of why she started the explanation with the origin of the hobs but the various names thrown into the explanation just made it harder for him to keep track of, he wasn't the best when it comes to remembering non-Shigesan names. Thankfully she finally mentioned redcap and the tengu was able to connect the necessary dots and reached a conclusion.

"So what you mean that redcap is simply blood shaman from another hob tribe. That's interesting. That kind of redcap will make more sense..." Zen's words trailed off as he started to just mumble to himself and paced around the room again, iust like what he did in the crime site. He was pondering about the possible motives of the murderer now that he had a more sensible grasp of the culprit's identity. He snapped back to reality when the hob asked about their involvement in the case, in which Zen answered.

"I'm doing this for myself. If I end up helping Waterham then that would be a great bonus for me. Though once I know the culprit I intend to tell the sheriff and let them deal with it, they're still the one who have the right to pass any judgement afterall. Me and my bud Syllanan here would be happy if you're willing to help us with some questions, Ms. Cassandra. Do the hobs here know about the true nature of the redcaps?" Zen didn't get the opportunity to ask the sheriff before but he recalled the sheriff looks terrified and mentioned something about being cursed by the redcap? So he was wondering whether poeple here normally also thought of redcap as murder fae. "Another one. Is there any way to tell these redcaps apart from the regular hobs here? Other than the bloody hat of course."

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Malthara remained quiet, during Cassandra's read from the tome and her explanation afterwards. She looked as if she was staring off into space, as Cassandra and Zen spoke. In truth, however, she was thinking over the information Cassandra had given as well as what all Zen mentioned. She didn't know much about the murders that had occurred here in Waterham, as she had only been in the city for a day. Eventually, without looking to Zen, she spoke up. "What information do you have on the murders?" she asked, "Details paint a grand picture, when it comes to investigations. Victims, locations, methods used to kill, evidence..."

She finally looked towards Zen and Syll after a moment. "If it was, indeed, a Redcap, I could track it. But I would like to hear about the crime scenes. And I'm sure Cassandra, here, would love to know what else you know in order to better assist."
 
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Syll was quite surprised to say the least, he had always thought of redcaps as powerful evil fae, yet apparently they came from a clan of hob ancestry influenced by a war god, although on second thought the average citizen of Ællgan is not exactly the most knowledgeable in foreign history. Indeed, word of mouth can really twist words over generations. He was also glad to know they had no actual connection to Nyarlaexedum... that name brought some bitter memories he'd rather keep buried.

"What all information do you have on the murders?" she asked, "Details paint a grand picture, when it comes to investigations. Victims, locations, method used to kill, evidence..."

"Well, i do believe an explanation is in order. Indeed we and a few more of our partners helped the Sheriff to investigate the most recent case of these multiple murders. Firstly, The murderer managed to enter the couple's house from the back, through a window that had been carefully picked with vines, they most likely used some sort of magic trinket to do so, as the vines had withered shortly after and no remnants of druidic magic could be detected"

Syll looked down and placed his hand under his chin in thought, he focused to make sure he wouldn't forget any detail, as he forgot to write down any of the clues from his hurry to head out from the crime scene.

"Secondly, my friend Zen here managed to find a hidden stash of wealth in the house, not only that but multiple items of apparent value were kept completely untouched, we ran into the conclusion that the murderer had no intention of stealing goods, they were only interested in killing the victims. It may also be of large relevance to mention that all the victims lately have been human-hob couples, so it's safe to assume these are hate crimes"

"Thirdly, the couple had been murdered with a barrage of magic missiles, the walls were filled with marks similars to those on the bodies, so it seems the killer had to use several volleys to compensate their low power and accuracy, this led me to believe we are dealing with a mediocre mage, although this could just be a red herring to mask their identity"

"And lastly and probably most vital clue, our priest friend managed to hear the final words of the couple's souls, and one of them mentioned that the murderer had a bloody red cap. This is our only, although pretty solid, clue that the killer is most likely a redcap, since it's their most defining feature, they also only mentioned one person, so most likely this is a solo work"
 
Gawain kept a leisurely pace as he navigated the streets of Waterham, uncaring for the reactions of disgust or terror that his appearance was granting him. He was well-traveled even after being dead for decades, so such things were quickly becoming numb to the ever-busy scholar.

I can tell that while you don't exactly care about them, there is a tinge of sadness running through your mind.

I assure you the sadness comes from disappointment more than anything else. While these people may have history to thank for their bigotry, I had hoped that in my time away from the mortal coil things would have progressed beyond such damning assumptions. he replies back in his head. I suppose a more enlightened and understanding world is too much to ask for, so I must strive to hasten such advancements where I can.

Inside the herbalist shop, Gawain inspected the bottles and jars on the shelves with curious scrutiny. While the wizard only dabbled in alchemy here and there his cursory knowledge was enough to tell him that whoever brewed these potions was quite experienced in the practice. It was comforting to know that the Magi he may be dealing could well be an intellectual of some kind, as such a conversation would no doubt be refreshing after the shrill shouts of that vertically-challenged sheriff. Gawain turns his head to the frightened child, saying nothing but tilting his head confusingly before the shout is made. Once the elderly gentleman enters and greets him, the skeletal mage straightens up and bows his head slightly.

"Good day to you sir. I ask that you pardon my rather... unusual appearance and also my unusual request that is about to follow." he begins, putting a hand to his chest to express humility. "If I may introduce myself; I am Gawain Epharim and am here to ask you some questions pertaining to a new study I am conducting. If my sources are correct, you are Magi, yes? After an encounter with an otherworldly being I was made this way and now I wish to find it so that I may study the creature further. Your heritage may well be the key to putting me on the right path."
 
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"H-hey! Monseigneur Abasi! ...would you mind to teach us how to dance?"
Abasi's ears perked up , he was finishing up his drink and flirting with one of the patrons but quickly he excused himself and walked over to Paulin "Did someone say dance ? of course I will" quickly he took Paulins hand and pulled into a dancing pose , Petro could see one of Abasi's hands going down to his hips as abasi looked at Petro and grinned "Watch carefully how i hold him , how we move" He started guiding Paulin into a soft dance "Moving like two lovers would"
After a while of showing off and getting to hold the cute boy close, after all the sight of the two boys dancing did atract a group of non hobbit patrons , Abasi let go of his hand and moved to Petro , before the minotaur could react abasi had "handed" Paulin to him , and was now behind Petro softly guiding the minotaur's hands to hold Paulin in the same way that he had before
Abasi took a step back grinning , his tail swaying playfully as he looked at Petro weirdly holding Paulin boy the minotaur was stiff this needed a little push "Alright paulin , now try to dance the same way you did with me...remmeber , like two lovers would" He whispered close to them.
 
Gsera jumped in place as she was startled by the sheriff's wall punch but quickly recomposed herself as she listened to her speak. Blood Magic. While she never seen of experienced such things, she did know that it was bad, like the necromancy that Gawain practices. This made her all the more motivated to help and filled her with conviction as she took in a deep breath and nodded to the sheriff. "I'll do what I can to stop it! You can count on us!" she stated with a genuine smile, "I... I'm not good at fighting. But I will do my best to make sure as few people as possible get hurt."
 
Petro inclined his head sadly at Paulin's brief tale, which had an unfortunate end which had launched him into becoming an adventurer. He knew plenty with similar stories who had left to fight in distant lands, or to take up a hermit's life in the higher mountains. One of his aunts had given her farm over to a young family after her husband died, and her two sons had left to join a roaming warrior clan. She, too, had taken up arms as a warrior, and had become a lone but tremendous force traveling the highlands and dealing with bandits and dangerous creatures.

"Journeying is fine work," Petro said with a nod. Then, he was caught somewhat unaware by Paulin's suggestion that they dance. His almost natural scowl seemed to take on a hint of bewilderment. "I... do not dance." He found himself reluctantly pulled up to standing as Abasi was summoned, the lithe feline joining them to provide a brief instructional demonstration. "But I don't dance," Petro reaffirmed, watching the pair until Paulin was swung into his arms. The minotavur carefully put his hands where directed, despite the rest of his body being stiff, his frown caught in a mild cycle of apprehension. "I can't dance!" Petro said anxiously, "and I do not have a lover, how am I supposed to...." With some coaxing, he managed a slight step to the left, and a step to the right, locked in a rigid side-to-side motion that could, feasibly, be considered a dance, much like a tree branch swaying in the wind - limited, clumsy, but moving.
 
"My journey has been full of so much danger that I've forgotten any other pursuits I'm afraid to say."

"Artistic skills are similar to muscle memory. I am certain it will come flooding back with a little effort," she reassured Waylond with a kind smile. Of course, there had been a few occasions in her life where she had gone for long periods of time without playing her bell or singing. Kastalli was certainly afraid that she had lost her skills for it but after attempting once or twice, she easily picked it back up every time. Her head tilted slightly at the mention of The Codex Chivalrous - she had no idea what that was or meant but it seemed to relate to Waylond. She simply kept quiet as they spoke, smiling politely. For a moment, her gaze wandered from Sentry and the other two as she watched Abasi dance with Paulin. How lovely! Perhaps she could join them later.

"Maybe those songs I spoke off will come sooner, no?"

Her ears perked up as Sentry directed the attention back to her. Kastalli hummed slightly for a moment, considering a song. She knew many Skæglin songs but seeing how there was a bit of hostility back in Eran, she wasn't sure if that would be the best idea to play in a tavern of Hobs. "Yes, perhaps when those who are out investigating with Cécilia come back, I shall play a song or two. The mood is brighter when everyone is present!"
 
Cassandra listened carefully to both Syllannan and Zen, both men clearly had plenty of questions after her explanation, but they were not the only ones with questions. Malthara asked about the case itself, the victims and the way they were murdered. That shed a lot of light into the case. "Well... this sure is something..." she said while gently tapping her book. She first looked at Zen to answer his questions.

Zen said:
"Ms. Cassandra. Do the hobs here know about the true nature of the redcaps?"

"In a way, they do, but..." The Hob scholar let out a sigh, she seemed a bit frustrated. "...most folk in Waterham believe that what the book said, they believe they are deamonic worshipers, the truth is that they are just pagans." She remained quiet for a second, smirking a bit. "...that's a thing with most countries in western Helmos, anyone who does not follow Gaia is an evil heathen, I'm proud to say I follow the Cult of Gods."

Zen said:
"Another one. Is there any way to tell these redcaps apart from the regular hobs here? Other than the bloody hat of course."

Cassandra gently taps her chin a bit before answering. "I suppose that depends how much they've used the powers given by the hat." She then showed a picture of a Redcap, a rather expertly drawn one made by some scholar of another era. "Older members of Redcap clans were said to have pale skin with dark veins, white eyes yet they did not lack sight, sharp, feral-like teeth and unlike us Hobs here in Waterham, they can grow beards.... younger members of a Redcap clan though, they will look indistinguishable from a normal Hob." As she finished answering Zen's questions, Malthara finished listening to Syllannan, his information just shed a lot of light in this case.

Syllannan said:
Firstly, The murderer managed to enter the couple's house from the back, through a window that had been carefully picked with vines, they most likely used some sort of magic trinket to do so, as the vines had withered shortly after and no remnants of druidic magic could be detected.

In the mind of this scholar, this was rather easy to figure out. She looked back at the painting she had shown to Zen and tapped on the red cap. "Well, Redcaps have plenty of magics at their disposal thanks to the hats, the more blood it has the more magics they can use. The cap itself is a trinket given to them by a God!"

Syllannan said:
Secondly, my friend Zen here managed to find a hidden stash of wealth in the house, not only that but multiple items of apparent value were kept completely untouched, we ran into the conclusion that the murderer had no intention of stealing goods, they were only interested in killing the victims. It may also be of large relevance to mention that all the victims lately have been human-hob couples, so it's safe to assume these are hate crimes.

The scholar looked at her Myrkálfar friend before looking back at the Hobálfar. "Weird... even hostile Redcaps steal from the people they raid or murder... but... the victims, all interracial couples?" she looked away for a moment. "...that makes no sense, Redcaps do hate Hobs and Humans but this sounds like they are trying to rid the town of... eugh, "race traitors"... Redcaps who choose the life of raiding target anyone indiscriminately." Cassandra kept listening to Syll until he finished, indeed, it'd appear a Redcap was the one behind these murders, but the motives do not fit the knowledge she had on hostile redcap clans. "This is too weird... but I think you are not dealing with actual Redcap... at least, not one that comes from a Redcap tribe."

Thinking a bit more of the clues gathered by Syll and Zen, she then looked at Malthara, a grin forming on her face. "I think I have an idea!" She said before patting Malthara's thigh. "My friend here is a Sorceress, she's an avid spell caster and her Álfari lineage grants her the ability to detect Magical Auras... What if you allow us to help you?" Syll and Zen looked at each other for a moment. All Álfari, have the natural ability to see other people's mana and these auras of mana are unique to each individual. That meant that no other person shared their aura.

Syllnnann, being a Hobálfar, was able to see auras as well, but not to the same extent a true Elf would. Zen on the other hand, is a Tengu and that meant that he could detect magical auras, an ability that allows the Tengu to know where a spell-caster is. Specially useful for assassins targeting wizards, priests, sorcerers, witches and the like. (1d20 = 1 | Critical Failure.) Confident on his own abilities to see magical auras, and wanting to Syll closed his eyes and allowed his senses to take hold of his mind. He could feel the diminutive flames emerging from both Zen and Cassandra, but when he looked at Malthara. He was blinded by her aura. Forcing him to open his eyes. (1d10 = 6 | Success.) Malthara is able to see this attempt of Syll to look into her aura. "So?" asked Cassandra with a big and confident smile on her face. "You want to help my town, we can help you as well, right Maly?"


Gawain said:
"If I may introduce myself; I am Gawain Epharim and am here to ask you some questions pertaining to a new study I am conducting."

The old alchemist's expression did not change a bit, he still gave Gawain a serious look, but one without judgement, a look that Gawain was already used to even back when he was alive. "Well... a pleasure to speak with you then, master Gawain... I'm Yeshua ben Abbas and this young man is my grandson Shimon." The young boy didn't say much, simply staring at Gawain with utter terror. Noticing this, the old alchemist petted his grandsons head with a slight smile on his face. "...fear not my boy, this gentleman is not here to harm us, he just has a few questions." His attempts to calm the boy down worked, but the young Shimon still kept giving Gawain a shy look.

Gawain said:
"If my sources are correct, you are Magi, yes? After an encounter with an otherworldly being I was made this way and now I wish to find it so that I may study the creature further. Your heritage may well be the key to putting me on the right path."

Yeshua's face did not change at all once the undead sorcerer had finishes his inquiries. "Shimon... can you leave us for a moment? I am sure your mother would appreciate it more if you helped her with the cooking." The young boy looked a bit confused but eventually he meekly agreed, walking away from the front of the store. Yeshua then turned his back on Gawain, he appeared to be using a mortar and pestle to grind some dried Blood Leaf.

"...You are in luck then, for I know what you are speaking of, but the question is master Gawain, do you truly want to cross that threshold again, seeing that it owns your soul?" The old alchemist then drops the fine red dust into a vial. "...you are speaking of the same magics that destroyed the Kingdom of my people, the same knowledge that drove or Kohen Gadols into insanity, for they witnessed something mere mortals cannot understand... nor they should try to understand it." The old alchemist slowly moved his head to look over his shoulder at Gawain. "Are you religious... master Gawain? Do you believe in mother Gaia? father Azaru and his angelic dragons? or perhaps the dead God... the creator of all mana and father of my people... Nidelgos? Perhaps the father of the Álfari, guardian of all that is living, Gweros? ...or do you believe in the hundreds of Gods that roam our world and our dreams?"

The old alchemist chuckled a bit. "...if you don't believe, master Gawain... then I ask you to reconsider... because you saw a God."


Life at the inn was starting to get as lively as their time back in Eran, as many other members of the company walk in and order plenty of food and drink. Angelica was on her 8th mug of beer while Devy, as charismatic as always, played another song for the amassing party of adventurers and swords-for-hire. While everyone continued to feast and drink, Abasi started to share some of his knowledge in dancing to Paulin, grabbing the young man and pulling him for a dance.

Abasi said:
"Watch carefully how I hold him, how we move - like two lovers would"

Needless to say, Paulin was both embarrassed and rather excited. He never danced and feared that he might look like a loser in front of Abasi. Being a natural dancer, Abasi was able to tell that the young Eranoiran man was rather stiff, so he started to teach both him and the Minotavur his best moves. (1d10+2 = 6 | Success.) Of course a master has to slow down his techniques if his students are far behind, but it was clear that Paulin wanted to learn more and was enjoying the dance. Although Abasi pondered weather or not the Eranoiran was enjoying the dance itself or being held by him.

Abasi said:
"Alright Paulin, now try to dance the same way you did with me... and remember, like two lovers would!"

"T-that... was amazing..." muttered Paulin as he was pushed into Petro, he could tell the poor Minotavur was rather nervous.

Petrocles said:
"I can't dance! and I do not have a lover, how am I supposed to...."

"H-hey, we might not be lovers but we can dance as friends!" said Paulin with a little smile on his jovial face. "Come on, lets give it a try!" He said as he took the first step, leading the dance as they allowed the music and ambiance of the tavern to calm both of them. (1d10-1 = 4 | Minor Success.) While young Paulin had learned a lot from Abasi, it was hard to translate his newly gained knowledge, specially when dancing with the much heavier Petro, but despite the fact that every now and then his feet were stepped on by a heavy minotavur, he was smiling and laughing a lot. (1d10-1 = 3 | Minor Failure.) Petro on the other hand, was unable to catch up with the young Eranoiran despite the fact he was trying his best to follow their steps, while frustrating at first, the laughter and smile from his dancing partner sure helped easing up any frustrations.

(Overall Result: 13 | Minor Success.) And once they were done, the two dancing partner were happy with their first dance, as awkward as it might have been, the over all ambiance simply helped making it far more enjoyable and fun. "That was... great, Petro! Really... thank you so much friend!" He said before giving the Minotavur a hug and after that, he went on and hugged Abasi. "That was just a lot of fun!" he said with a genuine smile. "Where did you learn your skills, Abasi?" He asked while offering the half-Basteti a mug of mead.
 

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