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17 April 1731
This hunt, this chase, is beginning to consume you.
Some three weeks ago now, you took up an offer being made by family members of the deceased and other interested partys. You have been paid half of 90 silver francs up front for your travel related expenditures. The monetary amount was not all too generous, but individually you have your own motivations for taking this grim task on.
Lightning strikes nearby illuminating your faces as you trudge on through the rain and wind. The traces of this man or beast you have been on the trail of have been sporadic but there. A large muddy footprint here, a rub there. Freshly killed people, most with their throats slashed out lying on roadsides or near their homesteads. The beast seems wasteful and chaotic. Only tending to eat or take choice organs from the bodies, mostly the heart, the liver. Livestock have been killed and eaten in the same fashion.
The remote forested foothills of SW Auvergne
It's been dark now for an hour as you travel on looking for some form of shelter for the night. You are bone weary and hungry. You smell the distinct odor of burning wood in the shifting wind off to the south.
What would you like to do?
Last edited by Scalydemon (12/21/2014 1:40 pm)
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Smelling the air, i drop to a crouch and listen to the sounds of the night. I then make my way south in search of warmth.
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OK, since I'm not sure this foppish aristocrat has any wood sense at all, as we approach whatever is burning or seems significant, I'll hang back and try to sneak around so I can keep one eye on my companion and one tuned for danger.
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You eventually find your way to a dark squat wood structure that could be a house or small chateau.
The area you are travelling in seems quite remote and this is the first sign of 'civilization' you have seen recently. The forest seems overly dark and it is evident that much rain falls here as there are large ferns and moss present.
A thin trail of smoke rises from a chimney. The front door is quite stout and appears to have been recently reinforced.
You rap on the door periodically and wait a long 5 minutes while the rain continues blowing at you sideways.
Finally as you contemplate giving up or trying other forms of ingress - the door opens a crack and a venerable frenchman with a grim countenance stares back at you. "Oui, Monsieur, what is it that brings you here at this hour?"
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Does Boris see any tracks or other signs of presence around the house while the knocking and waiting goes on?
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Ca va? Good sir, we seek shelter from this dreadful deluge.
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Around the building is a lot of mud and standing pools of water. Not much detail can be found as far as tracks go.
The man seems to pause a moment as he studies your faces, but opens the door to permit entry.
"Oui, vous êtes arrivés. I was wondering when someone would be sent. Come, come out of the rain." He introduces himself as 'Audric Poquelin' with a minor flourish.
The building has beams made of dark wood and is cluttered with antiquities, old paintings and hanging lanterns. A musty smell is present. A small fire burns in a hearth.
He helps you off with your heavy coats and motions you to some wooden chairs near the fire.
'Not many visitors these days. Are you English?" he asks as he pours glasses of Condrieu and serves them to you.
What would you like to do?
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Stand near the fire, back to the wall, watching the doors, and let my friend do the talking. I suppose I can add "Je suis Russe."
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Pointing at one of the paintings "is this a Carvaggio? Extraodrinary. Am I English? Only on my motherside, my Father was a Parisian."
Whilst saying these things I walk towards the hearth to dry myself. At the same time, I fondle the pistol at my hilt trying to determine whether my powder is dry (it was loaded some hours ago).
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OOC: I will assume you had your pistol safely stowed and the powder will be functional
Audric walks with a pronounced limp which he explains as having taken a musket ball to the hip during the War of the League of Augsburg. He serves you hard bread and champignon soup as he discusses his wife’s passing some 10 years ago and her being unable to have children. ‘Now all have left this region in fear except I as I have nowhere to go.” He reflects. “They say a blight has come to the forest and that the soils no good. Evil walks among it at night..”
“Now, I suppose you are here to take the demon back to hell. He seems no longer satiated with his prey in the forêt de ver to the south of here and has gone elsewhere at times to kill and maim.”
“I came upon him nearly once while out gathering wood and am lucky to have escaped. He walks erect but stooped and is taller than a man. Some say he haunts the old coal mines in the forest long since abandoned.”
“I have a room you can stay in. I’m afraid I tire easily these days. Do you have any questions of me before I retire?”
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"What kind of creature, sir, kills but does not finish its meal? And why do you say 'he'? When you met the thing, you escaped, yet many others have not--was there some charm about you that saved you? Or has the blight here marked you as it has marked so much else?"
Stoic, impassive. Russian.
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I regard Audric whilst waiting for him to answer my Rusk companion. What is his manner? Does he appear to be the innocent flower, or some viper hiding beneath it.
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Audric appears old and frail at this stage of his life, and appears to be genuine.
As he sips the last of his glass of wine - To Boris he replies, "I would venture to say he is not a man, or at least not a man anymore. When I chanced upon it - it stood on the next forested hill over, some 200 meters away. I stood still as a stone, held my breath and fortunatley he did not gaze upon me. I know not why he seems to mainly kill for sport or pleasure."
As he now tends to the fire a bit, poking at it with a fire iron he adds, "I wish peace and prosperity to return to this region. If the fiend is slain I feel the blight upon the land may die with it. I have some belongings left over from my time in the service I will lay out for you in the morning should you choose to use them in your grim task.."
He points you towards a room with some bedding.
What would you like to do next?
Last edited by Scalydemon (1/03/2015 4:14 pm)
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Boris will offer to do a quick perimeter sweep before beddy-byes just to make sure there's nothing skluking about.
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I thank him and hit the hay.
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You wake early after a restless night, but at least you were warm and dry.
Audric gets up as you do, serves hot black tea and lays out some items he retrieves from a storage closet
A brown/yellow buff coat
A cuirasse
A flint-lock rifle with 10 bullets (1d12 +2 dmg, rate of fire 1/3 rounds, range 80 feet)
(worn together the buff coat and cuirass would provide AC 15).
He bids you adieu. As you take your leave the sun is just rising over the horizon, but appears muted by a heavy cover of clouds. Steam rises from the wet earth.
You head further south and as you go on for several kilometers the terrain begins to change. Many of the coniferous trees still appear alive but stunted and gnarled, most choked with green/black hanging moss. The leaf bearing trees are mostly dead. The earth below your feet is soggy and mucky. At one point you see a spotted slug 2' long climbing a cedar and cross several worm tracks with identifying white slime.
The hilly terrain begins to tire you as you look for fresh tracks of the fiend.
Suddenly up ahead in the obscure trail you follow - as you round a bend, a man comes into view carrying a heavy burden over his back. He is 40' away and breathes heavily as evidenced by his breath in the chill air of the elevation.
What would you like to do?
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I leave the coat and Curiasse for my accomplice and load the rifle before resting it over my sholder for a march.
I check my sights then take aim at this chap whilst slowly moving toward him. My intention is to close to a good aim at perhaps 20' and then shout good morrow to our new friend. My initial reaction is he is a hunter but i need a better look.
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I'll wear the coat and cuirasse.
I'll flank to one side and be ready, keeping an eye on the surrounding terrain and stayng out of the line of fire.
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You get within about 20' of the man, with Boris taking to the woodline and slightly behind.
At a closer vantage the man looks of normal size but appears somewhat warped or mutated. He lacks visible ears and as he shouts at you his mouth is a toothless black maw.
He shouts in a barely recognizable language which is sort of a backwoods Occitan, "braconniers sales! mourir!" as he slings down his burden (looks like a large bloated dead animal of some sort that he was carrying by the tail) onto the ground and draws a wooden flint-lock pistol
Next I will be rolling initiative
Last edited by Scalydemon (1/05/2015 6:39 pm)