Play@YSDC

Book the Second, Chapter the Ninth: An Orphan Misplaced; Or, The Wandering Lady

Enough time and care taken to restore the injured parties to the full enjoyment of Nature's endowments, there remains the problem of locating the female creature, lest she fall victim to the many traps laid for the innocent by Man and Nature. There is also the fact that Miss Ravenscroft remains in a state of blackest melancholy, neither speaking nor responding to inquiry.

Pondering the whereabouts of the unfortunate female creature, Lepus tries to recall when he last heard her moaning.

“‘twas a loud battle with the brute, yesno? But did we not hear the girl-thing’s moans from yon moorland?”

"We did indeed," agrees William. "It is the best place to begin. A discreet enquiry among the inhabitants nearby may tell us if she has been offered shelter, or else if her cries have been heard - either would likely become a matter of rumour."

"Then let us be off," says Henry. "She may have left tracks as well. She's stronger than she looks, and she would have left deeper impressions on the softer ground."

There being general agreement that the moors would be the logical place to begin their search, the adventurers make preparations to explore that desolate place.

William's inquiries yield the information that the sole inhabitant of that portion of the moorland within a reasonable distance of the estate, as far as anyone knows, is an aged hermit, known only as Old Longbones, dwelling in an isolated shack of primitive construction.
Whilst Ivan is kept busy assembling such equipment and victuals as would be required for a stay of uncertain length of time upon the moors, the others observe the area nearest the estate and make certain deductions. To wit:

Doctor North, accustomed to reading the language of Nature, observes a number of wildflowers scattered about, in a rough trail leading in a northwesterly direction.

William, more used to keeping watch over the affairs of men, makes note of the fact that several stones, previously left scattered about after the renting of Duncan's Cairn, are no longer present, and that there are depressions in the moor indicating that heavy weights were dragged away, also in a northwesterly direction, on some sort of conveyance; but one, it seems, neither drawn by horses nor possessing wheels.

Attuned to the ways of creatures of the air, Lepus observes several flocks of birds flying in the selfsame direction, in contrast to their normal patterns of migration.

Lepus points the stem of his pipe towards the northwest.

“Let us away, yesno?” he says, making a mental note to pay his respects to the hermit when he can.

"Agreed," says William. "With all three of our trails leading in the same direction, it seems we may put our trust in Providence.
It is to be expected that after the destruction of the cairn, some of its material may be taken away for use in building. Perhaps the female creature seeks to make shelter, or perhaps she is aiding this hermit in doing so."

"Indeed," says Henry. "The hermit is apparently the only one living in these parts, so if anyone has seen her, it would be he. Let us go visit him first. The wildflowers may also have drawn her, as she may remember appreciating such things from her former life, at least on some level."

Heading in the direction indicated, it is not so very long before the adventurers catch sight of a simple wattle-and-daub structure, of no great size, half-hidden in a low depression. A small pond lies nearby, possibly indicating the reason its occupant has selected this location. There are a few goats about, of the kind more favored as a source of milk than meat, a number of scrawny hens and an equally bony rooster, and a small vegetable garden. Smoke emerges from a hole in the roof of the structure. There are no windows, and a single door of simple construction. There is no one currently outside the structure.

William rides up to the structure and dismounts, going to knock on the door.

Lepus follows, his keen senses on the alert for danger.

Henry and Ivan also approach the structure.

"Who's there?" The voice is a deep, strong one, easily heard through the closed door. "Go away! Leave me in peace!"

Lepus bows.

“‘tis but a fellow hermit with, alas, a small company. There be a father in search of a lost daughter; hast thou seen a girl come this way?”

"Once we have found her, we shall depart with her," says Henry. He describes the female creature's physical appearance.

"She has received a great shock, and may appear afraid or addled," adds William - "we seek only to return her to a place of safety."

"Stuff and nonsense, I say. Now off with you, and leave an old man in peace!"

There are sounds within, as produced by the striking of wood upon metal, and the pouring of liquid from one container to another.

“We seek only the girl. If thou hast not seen her the we shall leave thee to thy labours.” Lepus replies. “Thou has my word as a practitioner of the magick arts.”

"Perhaps she did follow the trail of wildflowers," suggests Henry. "If he cannot help us, we should try that next."

William briefly displays the look of a man who might wish to break open the door to investigate directly, but it passes and he accedes to the others' suggestions.

Upon hearing the words magick arts, as if it were that fabled phrase spoken by Ali Baba, Open Sesame!, as reported in the Frenchman's translation of that curious volume of tales known as The Thousand Nights and a Night, the roughly hewn wooden door creaks open no wider than a child's finger. From beyond, shining in a ray of sunlight that penetrates the crack, may be seen one single eye, the iris gray as a pearl, surrounded by deeply wrinkled skin. Little else is visible save some hints of tangled white hair and cloth of uncertain color.

"Who speaks of magick? Demonstrate such powers, or be gone. I've no time to waste with mere charlatanry."

“My skills are humble compared to the great sages, but mayhap I can be if service to thee. Has thou something broken or art thou afflicted with vermin? Failing that, dost thou have something thy wish to be moved?”

If the hermit answers in the positive to any of these, Lepus will cast Mending, Banish Vermin or Unseen Servant accordingly (preferably Mending as this might serve to draw the fellow out slightly in order to produce the broken item).

Henry leaves the magic to Lepus. While some of his scientific devices may seem magical, they probably wouldn't satisfy the hermit.

William listens for some sound that might betray the presence of another within the hut.

In response to this offer, the barely seen personage within the shack withdraws, is heard mumbling a few words, then returns with a wooden spoon of crude design, the handle nearly broken off.

"Mend that if you can, or I'll knock in your pate."

Sounds that seem to be the clattering of one small object against another come from inside the humble domicile.

Lepus shambles forward and takes the spoon (trying to catch a better glimpse of the fellow as he does so), before muttering a spell of mending on the object.

"May I ask who else is within?" enquires William directly of the hermit. "It may be that they have seen something of the stricken lady."

Henry watches the spell's effects with interest, curious as to the scientific principles that he knows must be behind it, yet completely unable to conceive of how it works.

As the spoon softens and reshapes itself, like clay molded by unseen hands, Lepus can see that the hermit is an exceptionally tall, thin, very old man, yet one who stands as straight as any young popinjay. His tangled gray locks hang far below his shoulders. His only garment is a robe of sorts. It is a bit surprising that the cloth is quite clean, as if it has been scrupulously scrubbed recently.

"Fairly done," he admits. "Come in, then, and the slattern will serve victuals. 'Tis poor fare, but enough for an honest man, if such you be."

Waving the adventurers into his humble abode, it is immediately obvious that the only other inhabitant is, as expected, the female creature, who is busy performing such domestic chores as are never entirely completed.

"Hurry yourself, scullion," the hermit shouts at her.

"Yes, my lord and master," she replies in a soft voice.

It is evident that the hermit has no conception of the relationship between the creature and his visitors; nor, more surprisingly, does the female elicit any sign of recognition of those with whom she was formerly associated.

“I be honest enough to accept thy hospitality,” jokes Lepus. “Any fare be palatable to a wanderer such as old Lepus.”

He seats himself, happily accepting the food.

“‘tis a fine thing for a hermit to acquire a servant; how came you by her?”

WIlliam has had little discourse with the female Creature, and it is of little surprise that she might not recognise him. "I share the same surprise," he says to the hermit, "though she seems happy enough in the role."

Vicki,Privately he wonders if leaving her here might be the best solution. He voiced a suspicion earlier that she might possess an exaggerated form of a woman's natural frailty of spirit, in contrast to the male's aggression and impatience - serving the hermit would thus be fit for her temperment and at the same time keep her away from contact with humans. He is however under no illusions about how the others would greet such a suggestion.

"Indeed," says Henry, who would definitely have expected the creature to have recognized him and suspects that the hermit has used some sort of magic on her. "Thank you for your hospitality. How is it that you keep her so obedient?"

The hermit laughs, a dry, crackling sound, not unlike that of a magpie.

"Old Longbones knows a trick or three, indeed." He chuckles at his guests, obviously fond of bragging about his accomplishments. "Came to my door, she did, bold as day. Some might've thought her mad, but so also they say of Old Longbones, so no mind to be paid to that. A firm word and a sure hand, and she'll mind like a properly trained mongrel. Fetch ale, wench!"

The creature obediently brings crudely carved wooden mugs of what proves to be a home-brewed liquid of no great quality. After quaffing a considerable amount, the hermit reaches into a pocket that has been sewn into his robe, removing what appears to be a disc formed from many small pieces of variably colored glass.

"Watch, and learn," he whispers.

As the creature refills his jug for a third time from a bucket, he lifts the object to her eye. The creature ceases her chore and stares at the thing.

"What recall you of the times before Old Longbones took you in?"

"Nothing, my lord and master."

"And what desires lie within your soul?"

"Only to serve you, my lord and master."

With a grin, the hermit dismisses her, placing the disc back in his pocket.

"Thou art blessed to possess such a thing!" Lepus declares, smacking his lips after draining his ale. "To change the mind of a person so that she knows not her own father - 'tis a wonderous thing and far beyond the power of a poor wretch such as I."

"How came thee by such treasure? How long does the glamour last? Ah, answer not the second question, for old Lepus can sense it be permanent. I suspect no power on earth can reverse such magic, eh Longbones?"

"While this is a remarkable feat," William says, "it sadly also makes it clear that your servant can know nothing to aid us in our quest. Thus perhaps we should take our leave to search elsewhere."

Vicki,The hermit's words have cemented William's conviction that leaving the female Creature here is the best course. If the others attack the hermit now, he will aid them of course, but if they take his cue to leave, he will try to make the case. OOC, I figure this is worth a bump in perversity - opting to leave her in this kind of slavery is straight-up evil, whether the others go along with it or not. I'm also aware that it may lead the others to be unwilling to associate with William any more - if so, I'm cool with creating a new character.

"Could the object itself be used to reverse its effects?" asks Henry.

"Tish and tosh," Old Longbones says in response to Lepus. ""Tis none of your enchantment, but mere bauble to dazzle the eye and baffle the brain. Had from grandsire, and he from own."

In answer to Doctor North, he adds "Might could be, if reason there was, though none comes to mind. Why inquire thus?"

Lepus snorts with amusement.

"Psht! Yon bauble be nought but a parlour trick then! Why, if thee placed it 'pon the table I could make it float as if 'twere a feather!"

"Scientific curiosity," says Henry. "As a natural philosopher, it's in my nature to wonder how things work."

Old Longbones snorts. "Boast and brag, brag and boast. I'll wager my finest she-goat you'll no more make it float than get with child a mandrake root!"

So saying, he places the disc upon the table and crosses his arms in defiance

"No fingers upon! I'll stand no thieves!"

“I’ll not take it, for ‘tis my beautiful countenance that persuades folk to do my bidding,” says Lepus, eyes twinkling.

He calls the serving wench over. “Stand next to me. If I touch yon stone with my hands then thou shalt alert thy master.“

Lepus’ plan is thus: he will summon his unseen servant to lift up the stone and hold it before the girl’s eyes. He will then quickly command her to take the stone and remember how she was before she entered into the hermit’s service.

Henry observes the proceedings with interest.

As dependable as ever, the Unseen Servant performs the directed action, much to the amazement of the hermit. The creature, as ordered takes the disc and stares into it.

"I remember. I remember. I was sick. I died. I am dead!"

She then collapses to the ground in a swoon. Old Longbones jumps up quickly, intending to regain the disc.

"You have killed her!"

“Better dead than a mindless slave, yesno?”

Motioning for the others to carry the prone girl out, Lepus asks his unseen servant to grab and hold on to the disk until the hermit can wrest it from him. He has no wish to steal from the man, merely keep him occupied while he withdraws.

William assists carrying the creature outside, though he remains alert from an attack by the hermit. Once outside he examines her to see whether she is dead or merely fainted.

Henry directs Ivan to help carry the female creature and goes outside with them. He doubts she is actually any deader than she was before, though he believes his knowledge of the reanimation process is good enough to restore her to life if needed.

Whilst Old Longbones is engaged in the struggle with the Unseen Servant, proving to possess a vocabulary of blasphemous curses of impressive variety and imagination, the others carry the insensate creature without.
No doubt due to his overpowering desire to regain the disc, Old Longbones is able to regain it from the invisible servant quickly, so that the adventurers are not far from his door when he wrests it from unseen hands.

"Murderers!" he cries at them, apparently not aware that the creature is not lifeless, but merely in a state of deep unconsciousness. "You'll not escape the wrath of the Kindly Ones! Old Longbones knows a thing or three." He shuts the door, retreating inside, evidently not willing to engage in direct battle while outnumbered.

When at a safe distance from the shack, the adventurers discover that the usual methods of rousing one in such a state are of no avail. Loud noises, strikes upon the cheek, water dashed in the face, even the application of smelling salts, fail to return the creature to consciousness.

“Mayhap what dies once should remain dead, yesno?” sighs Lepus, sadly. “‘tis the natural order of things.”

"I must agree it would be the best solution for all," says William.

"I must disagree," says Henry. "She is my daughter, and I am responsible for her. She is merely sleeping now, though she cannot be awakened the way one of us can. I think we may need that disc to revive her."

"You saw how the male behaved," says William. "While it is true that this one has thus far been more timid, you have true children Your Lordship. Are you certain you would trust such a creature to be near them? This way it can pose no more danger to anyone."

“Aye, the gallant soldier be right. Yonder creature has suffered enough - let Death claim what she is due.”

"I have no intention of surrendering my own progeny to Death," says Henry, determined. "I would not trust her with my children at this point," he admits, "because she has the mind of a child but an incredibly strong body. She could hurt someone without meaning to, for she knows not her own strength. Once she is properly trained and raised, she will be able to interact with people. She is very unlike the male creature. His own actions warranted his destruction, but she has done nothing wrong as yet. Instead, she has been a victim, abandoned by her mother and enslaved by that scoundrel. I am all she has in the world. I also gave my word that she would be educated. We all did."

"Thy own progeny!" snorts Lepus with derision.

"Still, we did promise... Very well! Old Lepus shall not hinder thee restore the creature's unnatural life, but neither shall he help thee."

"We did," admits William grudgingly.

"Thank you," says Henry. "I can ask no more of you."

Whilst this argument -- or discussion, if you prefer -- continues, the sound of loud flapping wings fills the air. Drawing the attention of the adventurers to a particular region of the sky, this roaring noise, like unto that of an approaching storm, leads them to discover what seem to be a trio of extraordinarily large birds approaching.

"The Kindly Ones! The Kindly Ones!" comes from inside the hut, followed by the sound of cackling laughter.

“It be the Furies!” Lepus exclaims.

“The wench be not dead, merely in a swoon!” he yells, partly to the hermit and partly to the approaching creatures, before turning to the scientist.

“If thy science can rouse yon girl, now be the time!” he hisses.

William draws his pistols, but does not yet fire, waiting to see what the birds do in response to Lepus's words.

"They seem not kindly to me," says Henry, taking out his Regenerator and applying it to the female creature. He recalls that the principle behind it is similar to the one on which the reanimation process is based, and he hopes that it will serve to revive her.

The Regenerator works its arcane effect upon the insensate creature, rousing her from seeming lifelessness. She appears to be in a state of confusion.

"Where . . . who . . ."

As this procedure takes place, the winged monsters draw near, revealing themselves to be unnatural chimerae, carrion birds of prodigious size from the waist down, hideously ugly and deformed women above. The pleas of Lepus that their errand of vengeance is without justification are of no avail; once unleashed, fairly or unfairly, there is no way to recall them.

Even at a distance, the foul stench of the beings assaults the nostrils, indicative of the unspeakable diet upon which they survive.
Perhaps because his mind is intent in saving the creature from the edge of the grave, all save Doctor North succumb to the putrid scent, inducing debilitating nausea.

Williiam fires his pistols at alternate bird women.

Dexterity 12, +1 Soldier, +3 Good Shot, -3 Nausea.
Rolled 1D20: 10 and 11; both shots strike home, though one only barely.

Seeing that there is no course of action but to drive off the noisome creatures, Lepus lobs one of the dwindling number of explosive stones at them. If his unseen servant is still in existence, he will command it to throw stones at the furies.

Henry draws his pistol and fires at one of the winged harpies. "Throw rocks at the flying monsters!" he calls to Ivan and the female creature.

OOC,I think the effects of the meteorite raised my CON to 17, but either way I succeeded.

SunlessNick wrote:Williiam fires his pistols at alternate bird women.

Two of the creatures are wounded by the bullets, letting out screams of rage, half-human and half-bird, as they approach. One, indeed, is so severely injured as to render flight impossible. Instead, she approaches on foot, a sight which may be more unnerving than if she were still using her wings.

jp1885 wrote:
Seeing that there is no course of action but to drive off the noisome creatures, Lepus lobs one of the dwindling number of explosive stones at them. If his unseen servant is still in existence, he will command it to throw stones at the furies.

His aim rendered less than perfectly accurate by the need to frequently retch in the presence of the foul beings, Lepus barely misses striking one of the creatures with the explosive stone. The loud sound as it falls to the ground and bursts into something resembling a roaring bonfire appears to drive the creatures into a frenzy.

Mr. Handy wrote:
Henry draws his pistol and fires at one of the winged harpies. "Throw rocks at the flying monsters!" he calls to Ivan and the female creature.

The third creature also falls victim to the power of powder and lead, although to a lesser extent than her sisters.

During this time, by the by, one of the beings speaks to another, in a voice so screeching that it causes one to wince with the sound. At the moment, there is little time to pay much attention to her words. At some calmer moment, Doctor North will be able to recognize the language as archaic Greek, such as might have been spoken by Homer. The translation is a rough one, but, in essence, her remark is "Kill not that one! Atropos has plans for him!"

Meanwhile, the other persons -- if that term can be truly applied to all but one -- present, as directed, hurl explosive stones at the creatures.
A witness unaware of the arcane skills of the hedge wizard would, no doubt be dumbstruck by the sight of a stone flying into the air of its own accord and bursting into flame as it strikes its target. Even more surprising might be the fact that said victim of the stone simply vanishes, leaving only her foul scent behind. (Perhaps the fact that this particular creature was on foot rather than on the wing made the invisible assailant's aim so sure.)
Whilst Ivan's attempt to strike one of the two remaining creatures comes nowhere near its target, as he must bend over to vomit at the moment he hurls the stone, the female creature's aim is deadly accurate. Possibly she believes these monsters to be an insult to members of her sex.
Alas, the blow is but a glancing one, doing only minor damage to the foul thing.

Perhaps remembering the Greek colonies formed near the Black Sea in ancient times, and imagining Russians to be their enemies, the two remaining monsters launch themselves at Ivan simultaneously.
Ducking away from one of the pair, Ivan is able to avoid its sharp and corruption-bearing claws; the other, however, seizes this opportunity to plunge directly at him.
The monster's beak tears a hunk of flesh from Ivan's cheek, chewing on it with grotesque pleasure, and causing blood to flow from the open wound.

Lepus is loathe to throw more explosive stones so close to the injured Russian. Instead he instructs his servant to seize a branch or somesuch to wave about one of the creatures, while he, steeling his queasy stomach, draws his dagger to strike the one which is feeding.

“Begone foul Furies!” he yells in whatever mangled Greek he has managed to pick up in his travels.

Had William a scholar's mind with which to understand the bird women's speech, he might have gleaned that their remark may refer to his own fated death some years hence and far from Highdark Hall. It is perhaps then serendipity that his soldier's nature compels him to draw his sword and true to drive off the monster assaulting Ivan.

The Regenerator already in his hand, Henry applies it to Ivan's wound. "No more stones," he says, "Now we fight them hand to hand! William, they cannot kill you. You have a different destiny."

William does his best to interpose himself between the bird women and the others. "To strike at these, you must first kill me and break your own law!" he cries.

jp1885 wrote:
Lepus is loathe to throw more explosive stones so close to the injured Russian. Instead he instructs his servant to seize a branch or somesuch to wave about one of the creatures, while he, steeling his queasy stomach, draws his dagger to strike the one which is feeding.

“Begone foul Furies!” he yells in whatever mangled Greek he has managed to pick up in his travels.

The bird-woman is easily able to seize the branch from the invisible grip of the servant, breaking it into twigs with her claws.
Lepus drives his dagger into the monster's breast, releasing a heavy flow of black blood, although, unlike its vanished sister, it has not yet been destroyed entirely.

SunlessNick wrote:Had William a scholar's mind with which to understand the bird women's speech, he might have gleaned that their remark may refer to his own fated death some years hence and far from Highdark Hall. It is perhaps then serendipity that his soldier's nature compels him to draw his sword and true to drive off the monster assaulting Ivan.

The air is rent with the sound of William's flashing blade, which misses the hideous being by no more than the breadth of a hair.

Whilst Doctor North and Ivan are otherwise occupied, the one dispensing and the other receiving care for the wound, and the others make their attacks, the female creature reaches for the bird-woman, intent on destruction.
Her fingertips barely touch the monster, irritating it but causing no real harm. Meanwhile, her sister launches an attack. (Given her ability to fly, William's attempt to block her from the others, although a noble gesture, is not terribly effective.)
Surely the Kindly One bears some animosity to the bold Russian, for once again she strikes at the hapless fellow.
As luck would have it, her razor-sharp claws fail to strike Ivan as rolls away from the attack.

Stomach heaving, Lepus moves in to defend the Russian and his master, striking out with his dagger once more. If he can talk in between gagging, he will instruct the unseen servant to throw detritus from the ground at the other creature, if only to distract it.

"Cursed beasts," mutters William. He readies his sword to lunge at the next one to come low enough to attack - his attention is mostly concentrated on Ivan, since the bird women seem to have singled him out.

Henry raises his cane and directs Ivan to draw his sword. and they both attack the harpy that just tried to kill him.

Bits of dirt fly, as if by themselves, into the eyes of one of the creatures, causing her to flap her enormous wings in a frenzy, rendering her incapable of harm, for the moment.
Steeling his stomach against the monster's stench, Lepus strikes a mighty blow against the temporarily blind being, directly into her evil heart, releasing a flood of hot, black blood; then, in an instant, she vanishes, leaving no trace of her body nor her hideous ichor, as if she had never existed at all.
Slashing away at the bird-thing, which seems intent on carrying Ivan away to Tartarus, William is, of course, careful not to injure his ally. It may be this caution that causes his blade to miss its target.
Fortunately, not all is lost, as both Master and Servant strike at the monster, eliciting screams from her carrion-scented mouth, as they render her as lifeless as her sisters, and, in less time than it takes to tell, causing her to disappear.

After some time is spent in recovery from this heated battle, the adventurers witness the female creature glancing about, as if seeing the place for the first time. Turning her gaze upon those gathered about her, she makes inquiry of them.

"Who are you? What is this place? Who am I?"

Breathing heavily, Lepus points to Henry.

“Him... He will tell you,” he declares in between taking lungfuls of air.

William glances ruefully at Lepus. "It seems the gods themselves have lent their support to his Lordship's claim."

"Aye, well 'tis their prerogative, I s'pose. 'tis not the first time ol' Lepus has disagreed with them."

Henry bows to the female creature. "I am Lord Henry North, the thirteenth Earl of Dunwich," he says. "You called me father earlier, and I suppose that's accurate enough. I do not know your name, but I can give you a new one if you like. You lived in a nearby village, but you died of consumption while under the care of myself and Miss Mary Ravenscroft. Together we revived you through the power of science. She has gone now, but she has provided for your future education. This place was the home of a hermit who used a device to make you forget and keep you as a servant, but my friends and I have set you free from him. He called those birdwomen to attack us in revenge, but we all fought well against them, and now they are no more."

"I understand little of what you say," she responds, "but it seems I must place my trust in you. From what little I can recall, I know that I am not like others of my sex." She gestures at her visage and limbs. It must be admitted that these do not resemble the features of ordinary women. She is of unusual size, for one thing, towering over all but the tallest men. Upon the visible parts of her limbs (her current frock being far less than new, with more than one rent area permitting viewing of her skin) there are multiple small white scars. These may not be noticeable upon a causal glance, but would certainly draw attention with closer inspection. Similar marks are found upon her face. More striking are her eyes, which are very large and of two different colors, one so deep a brown it is nearly black, the other a deep green. Drawing attention away from even these is her hair, a wild tangle reaching to her waist, and, startlingly, consisting of strands of many shades, from pure white to raven black, with no little amount of other colors, from pale blonde to flaming red. The overall effect is both beautiful and frightening; what the poets deem sublime.

"Fa . . . Father," she addresses Doctor North, somewhat uncertain of the proper use of the term, "what shall I be called? How shall I live?"