Abomination!

It's late at night by the time that you arrive in the village. And as it turns out about half the villagers are waiting for you in the town hall. You're glad to get out of the chill until you realize that the torch and pitch-fork wielding natives of this land want to come /with/ you to help hunt down this undead creature that's been stalking their outskirts.

"So there you have it! It comes almost every night to someone's house. Banging on doors, scaring the children! It's been haunting us for almost two weeks now but we can't catch it. It's mighty fast for an undead creature! But we figure with a few adventures in our ranks we can catch it!" Their 'leader' is an older man but still not past his years of being upwardly mobile. His head is bald and he introduced himself as Vern.

Randolf is, of course, not at all bothered by the chilly evening. He's a strong, mansome dwarf, built for cold weather. He's taken a bit aback by the torches-and-pitchforks mob, boggling as he looks from face to face. "Reos' flamin' beard, is this real life?" he mutters into his beard." He looks up at the village elder as the man speaks his piece, head tilting to one side and giving his beard a thoughtful tug. "Bangin' on doors? That's -all- it's done?" he asks. "That dinnae sound like any sort o' undead -I- know 'bout. I mean, aye, givin' the poor wee bairns a fright's a dreadful thing fer anyone tae be doin' but... what makes ye so sure it's some undead beastie?"

Alright, the good part is that it's nighttime, and Telamon feels better about things already. The bad part is that his expression suggests he was NOT expecting this reception. "Ah... are you sure it's actually undead? I mean, has anyone seen it, sir? We're not just dealing with some kind of extremely ill-advised prank here, I hope..." He pushes back the hood of his cloak, and looks at the other adventurers with a slightly furrowed brow.

This isn't exactly quite how Ignis planned on spending his time upon his return to the region following being called away but..eh...it's good to stay active. Besides, this seems like a fairly straight forward mission and need that can be swiftly dealt with.

Needless to say, his expression is..rather confused, uncertain and also cautious as he observes the villagers and listens to Vern. When Telamon speaks he nods his head while pulling his hood back and shaking his hair free.

"I'm wondering this as well. Disasters have happened when conclusions are jumped to. Has anyone been hurt?"

"Well... NO." Says Vern, admitting that no one's been hurt seems to injure the man somewhat, but he looks up with fevor in his eyes. "But that's only because the doors have held thus far! I saw it myself! A huge misshapen undead creature it was! All foulsome green from decay. Eyes sunken in and bones showing!" The man shudders.

"It's an abomination!" Screams someone from the back and Vern nods.

"Truth! And there've been the missing chickens! What'll be next? Someone who's door breaks?" He looks at the set of you and stares you down. "All we're asking is that you teach us how to kill it. Or! Show us to where-ever its hiding! We can manage!"

Randolf's shaggy red brows droop down over his eyes as they furrow into a dour scowl. He reaches up and whacks his forehead, slowly dragging his palm down his face. "Beards o' me sweet tap dancin' fathers, bloody -tallfolk-," he mutters into his beard. He sets his hands on his hips, looking up at Elder Vern. "So ye -saw- it, then? A this great, yuge beastie, all decayed an' showin' off its bones fer the gods an' everyone tae see? An' yet this dreadful shambler can -outrun- ye?" He peers around at the rest of the mob. "Has anyone -else- seen this monstrosity?" he booms.

Telamon glances a bit nervously at Randolf and Ignis, not liking the mood here. He takes a deep breath, composes his features, and speaks, "No one's getting abandoned or left on the branch here. If it's coming every night, we can catch it -- and then determine the truth of the matter." His voice is firm. "Fire is one of the best tools against the walking dead. Just try to be careful using it -- you don't want to burn down your house, or your fields."

GAME: Telamon rolls Diplomacy: (6)+6: 12
GAME: Randolf rolls diplomacy: (18)+0: 18
GAME: Ignis rolls diplomacy+4: (4)+10+4: 18

"I would say this sort of thing is unique to the region but unfortunately fear of the unknown is pervasive everywhere." comments Ignis as he hears Randolf's frustrated reaction to the scene and given information. He can't help but smirk faintly with some mild amusement at it all but shakes it off and nods as he hears Telamon but then advises, "You've called for us and we're here. I know you're all ready to attend to this threat but let us investigate matters first before you step out and attempt to catch it yourselves..."

"Yea! Fire! I told ya!" Yells one man holding a torch and grins at his neighbor with a pitchfork who looks a bit wilted that pitchforks aren't the weapon of choice.

"I seen it!" Says a small voice from the back and a boy moves forward a little bit.

"Johnathan! You're supposed to be in bed!" A woman chides the boy and he gives her a look and someone else waves him off to bed.

"Fine, we'll listen to your suggestions sirs, but keep in mind that we want this creature stopped /before/ it harms someone, or breaks a door in and wrecks a home." Vern says sternly.

"Fire!" Smuldur was quiet. Then someone said the magic word! He's also holding a torch! No pitchfork, though. After a long pause he adds, almost as an afterthought, "Find first, then burn!" To show he does understand the efficacy of locating and identifying the thing, first. Otherwise, fire could be wasted on the wrong thing!

Randolf glances up at his two comrades. He'll let smoother voices do the talking. But even just being there, all brawn and burl, his robes furling dramatically in the breeze, he cuts quite the impressive figure. Perhaps it helps lends some weight to Ignis' more level-headed appeal to the mob. As Little Johnny comes out to offer his insights. He lifts a hand. "Oy, wait a tick there, good marm, let 'im have his say," he says. 'Because he's clearly the reliable one here,' is what he thinks, but does -not- say. It's not charm he has, it's brains. He lumbers over to the lad, squatting down a bit to come level with the boy. It's not every day he has to get -down- to look someone in the eye. "What did ye see, laddie," he asks gently. "Tell me everything ye remember."

Telamon takes a -long- look at Smuldur, before turning his eyes back to Vern. "It goes after chickens and bangs on doors incessantly. It only comes at night. A huge shambling thing but it outruns you... wait." He pauses, his brow furrowing again. "Vern... sir.. how close would you say you were when you saw it? Arm's length? Three strides? Because the dead don't take good care of themselves. You wouldn't have just seen it -- you'd have -smelled- it."

Ignis gives Smuldur a long look. Probably not the first and probably won't be the last, but he just looks at him and then turns his attention back to the others. The right questions are being asked so he adds nothing and just waits to see what is said.

Vern nods. "I did! It smelled terribly of rotten flesh and... paper?" He looks at one of the men standing next to him who shrugs and he shrugs also.

Meanwhile, the boy, boyed by the attention launches into his story. "I saw the undead guy with a cat! Miss. Mittens!" A woman exclaimed in the background that it's /her/ cat and looks alarmed. "He was petting the cat. He seemed friendly to me but my mom called for dinner and he came knocking on the door a bit later. She and dad got scared and grabbed a torch to shoo him away from the door and he ran so fast!"

"He's clearly lying!"

"Little John doesn't lie!"

The townsfolk are... now arguing with one another.

GAME: Telamon rolls Perception: (14)+7: 21

Randolf listens intently to Little Johnny's story, nodding his head and giving the lad his undivided attention. He was a second-born son, he knows what it's like to be brushed off by his elders. "Thank ye, lad. Now off ye trot tae beddie-bye. Growin' boyos need plenty o' rest." He straightens--and blinks. "Now wait just a--och, see here now--if ye could just--" He can't get a full sentence out before someone else leaps in to start arguing. The burly dwarf's face goes as red as his beard. Balling up his fists, he puffs up his broad chest and inhales a deep breath. Dwarven voices are deep and sonorous and carry -very- well. He demonstrates just -how- well in an attempt to cut through the static. "OY! THAT'S ENOUGH! SHUT YER BLOODY PIE-HOLES!!" he roars. He glowers up and around at the mob, eyes ablaze. Hopefully asserting his dwarven-ness is enough to quiet the mob down.

Telamon casually sidles away from Vern, while the village folk have themselves a good shouting match. As much fun as it'd be to try and get them to work out their issues, it seems Randolf might be a little more effective since he's defaulting to angry khazad shouting style. Cautiously, Telamon peers out one of the windows, his dark eyes narrowed as he sweeps the outside with his gaze.

Well...they -were- calm.

"I'm afraid we may simply need to take action and do it swiftly.." Ignis counsels the others, turning more towards Telamon, Randolf and Smuldur and slightly away from the arguing mob.

"I'm having flashbacks of a similar situations I once dealt with where an angry mob had actually encroached upon the territory of another creature and they assumed the worst. This shambling 'undead' might simply be a curious native to the area that's been awoken by their activities and if it is something sinister that's simply playing pranks with them..well..we'll have to deal with what we find.."

Smuldur nods thrice with Little Johnny. So it's in league with CATS, too. Dastardly. Or it could be nice. The big'un mentioned it smelled like paper, too, which is also encouraging. For burning. He nods more. encouragingly. "Good! Good!" Now he looks around at the others. "Go find!"

The townsfolk quiet down instantly as they're yelled at, obviously surprised to be so spoken to. Vern gives the dwarf a short look though, and asks as the boy runs off to bed (looking pleased with himself). "Was that really necessary?" He looks at Smuldur. "Are we... going to go look for it now?"

Randolf puffs up his chest, glowering up at Vern. He lumbers over to the man, drawing himself up to his full four-foot-ten height. "-Right-. Here's the way of it. -We-," he says, pointing his finger down and twirling it in a circle to indicate himself, Telamon, Ignis (and yes, Smuldur too), "are goin' tae go out an' have us a look about. An' see if we can find this undead beastie o' yers. -You-," now he points up at Vern, and twirls his finger towards the rest of the mob, "are goin' tae sit -right- here. Ask me -nicely- an' I might even magick ye up a couple packs o' playin' cards." He sets his hands on his hips, glowering up at the man with his beard bristling. "Any -questions-?" he growls. He doesn't add the unspoken 'say a single word, I double dog dare you'. He doesn't need to.

Telamon stiffens at the window, and then gestures with one hand. "You won't have to look very far," he deadpans. "I can see it. It's just standing there, about four hundred or so paces off. Did someone send him a party invitation?" He takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes on the thing, trying to make out details. "I could go out there, of course. You'd know if there was trouble if you heard explosions and me yelling."

"Riiiight..." Ignis voice drones on with that 'oh boy. here we go' sort of tone to it as he hears Telamon. He gives Randolf and Vern one more look and then looks Telamon over and then finally Smuldur and then just chuckles..

"..I think you had better let me go out first and address it. I might be able to deal with an attempted assault abit better but you'll need to be ready to back me up. Fair enough?"

He's already moving for the door and reaching for the handle though he waits to be sure the others are ready. His movements seem to almost deliberately reveal his bladed weaponry and ornate armor for those that had not seen it yet or the symbol of Daeus. "Ready when you are.."

Smuldur's head snaps around on a swivel. 'I can see it' was enough... but then Telamon mentioned explosions and yelling! "Found it!" the gobber cackles gleefully and immediately skitters for the door, and towards the 'there' beyond. He's obviously ready, if not very patient.

Apparently neither are the townsfolk because in spite of Vern being visibly cowed by Randolf, the rest are surging toward the door! It seems that they really do intend to join you in killing this undead abomination!

GAME: Telamon rolls diplomacy: (9)+6: 15
GAME: Randolf rolls intimidation: (11)+0: 11
GAME: Ignis rolls diplomacy+2: (1)+10+2: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ignis rolls diplomacy+2: (19)+10+2: 31

"Alright..enough!"

Ignis turns towards the crowd, bold and unmoving despite their rushing madness. A bit of a spark of something on the inside wells up into his visage, creating a look both stern and empathic at the same time with the torchlight reflection on his armor and weaponry almost giving the impression of sunlight for an instant if one looks for to long. "This sort of madness and fear will do you no good and makes -our- job harder. Remain here and patient. We promise to resolve this tonight. That is why you've summoned us so allow us to do our jobs and to keep you safe."

He doesn't wait any longer or for any approval, assuming the will listen and instead firmly opens the door to step out while resting his other hand upon the hilt of his blade.

Well, that was tense. Telamon didn't think Ignis could actually get those townsfolk to stay inside! Maybe there's something to be said for 'diplomacy with a hand on the sword hilt'. As the four sweep outside, he hurriedly gestures in front of his chest, mumbling the words, and a shimmering, translucent wrap of starlight folds around him before fading away. As soon as he's outside, he's looking for the figure again, peering intently.

GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 2 DC: 15

Randolf's eyes nearly go bugging out of his head as the mob starts surging for the door. He rips his wand off his belt and brandishes it high, stumping after the mob as though he's about to start turning people over his knee. But thankfully, Ignis is there with calmer statesman shift. Randolf pulls a deep breath, making his nostrils flare as he squinches his eyes shut. If one were standing close enough, they might hear him counting to ten under his breath. A moment later, he's much more collected. He goes to push his way past the mob, grumbling and growling as he shoves his way through. "'scuse me. Pardon me. Wizard comin' through. Bloody -tallfolk-." Once he's out the front door, he sets his gaze on their quarry. He lifts his wand (making sure the mob get a look at his good side) as he sketches a brisk pattern in the air, leaving a fading trail of sparkles. "RE EX RE SU SCUTUS!" he barks, power making his voice reverberate. In response, a ring of silvery-blue hexagons whirls out around him, locking in place for a split second before vanishing in a flash. "Right. Let's get this done with. I need a drink," he grumbles, gripping his wand tightly as he lumbers alongside his comrades.

GAME: Randolf casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

"Wait for boom!" That is all the wisdom that Smuldur can spare as he darts off outside, not even giving it entirely over his shoulder. There's the undeaded flammable cat friend out there to investigate... or incinerate. Maybe some combination of the two!

The moment that the creature spots you, and it's impossible to /miss/ the lumbering hulk in the vague distance that's staring at the town hall, it runs. It's partially illuminated somehow and its... really big. Easily eight feet tall. It doesn't move all that fast, given that it's giant, but it moves at a ground-eating pace due to that very size. Which means that it's moving at least as fast as you can, and it's running. Away.

"Hey now! Stop right there!" Telamon starts calling to it as it tries to leave. Switching languages as he does, from Tradespeak, to Khazdul (he sounds a bit high pitched) to Draconic, to Sildanyari, even Gnomish. "What's the rush? There's no sale on carrots tonight!" Giving pursuit, as he pauses to comment, "Do undead even know HOW to run away?"

"If anyone has any guesses..now would be a good time!" calls out Ignis to the group before beginning to give chase lest sight of the creature be utterly lost.

"Wait!" he yells at it, "If you mean no harm then you've got nothing to fear or worry about but you need to stop!"

Randolf grunts as he starts trotting as fast as his tubby dwarven stride can carry him. "Oy, hold up now, we just want tae talk!" he calls after the thing. He looks over at Telamon with a grunt. "Usually they only run when a priest is turnin' 'em back." Even at a brisk jog, he's being outpaced. He coasts to a halt with a scowl. Puffing up his chest, he lifts his hands, making a brisk pass with his wand. "Re ex re anu pelosis! Hah!" Snapping his wand out, there's a brief flicker of wings unfurling from his feet before they vanish in a flurry of feathers. Setting his jaw, he takes off like a shot. ZOOM! He passes his comrades, bearing down on the fleeing creature.

GAME: Randolf casts Expeditious Retreat. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

"Run slower!" Smuldur calls after the thing. Stopping might be too much to ask, so... compromise? While he was little legs, they can move rather quickly. Which makes him move pretty quickly, trailing a bit of smoke and gobberific aromas in his wake.

The creature is moving pretty quickly for an undead creature, but Randolf is moving faster. He catches up but the creature doesn't stop. It keeps running. "FIIIIIIIIREEEEEEE." It moans, despair in its voice. "BAAAAAAAD!" It's moving as fast as it possibly can.

Telamon says something rude in khazdul as Randolf goes flying past him. Hopefully the dwarf didn't hear it. As the moans carry back over the wind, Tel pulls his arms in and pushes a bit, pumping his legs to pick up the pace and try to get closer. "How... the hells... does it run that fast?"

Randolf lifts his hands, turning to a backwards jog as he plants himself in front of the creature. "Woah, woah, easy, laddie, easy!" he urges. "No fire here! Just slow down now, eh? We just want tae talk. Just us, none o' those dunderheaded villagers." He keeps his tone as even and soothing as he can--or, at least as soothing as that gravelly growl he calls a voice -can- be.

"Given great power!" Smuldur explains to Telamon. "By cat!" Infallible gobber logic never fails! He starts all-out running, now, too. Infallible legs! Unless he trips, then they become very fallible.

This isn't exactly ideal, running in any sort of armor that is, but one must do what one must do. Ignis brings up the rear, probably lagging behind even Smuldur. He's not exactly pleased at this turn of events, especially being in the rear when he seems to be the most armored and they are pursuing a potential danger, but, nevertheless, just puts his best effort in attempting to catch up.

The creature takes a giant step, moving around behind Randolf and cowering behind him. It's... really laughable. This huge, hulking creature is squatted down, trying to hide... behind a dwarf. He huffs and puffs and generally makes a racket of half-moaning noises behind the much smaller being, and then points a shaking finger toward the /tiny/ torch that Smuldur is carrying. "FIIIIIIRE!"

Telamon slows down as he gets closer, and sees this... display. What in the... then he follows the shaking fingertip to Smuldur, and shifts gears. "Put the torch out," he says quickly to the goblin. "Trust me. Look at it. It's frightened." He actually feels kind of bad about scaring something, even if it does look like eight feet of moldy mulch in a humanoid shape.

"We need to show that we're willing to talk and listen and get to the bottom of this." adds Ignis as he brings up the rear behind the approaching Smuldur. "I don't think there will be a need to set anything on fire tonight. At least, not this creature.."

Randolf boggles a bit as the creature goes to hide -behind- him. For a moment, he coughs and harrumphs, his beard bristling as he flustered. But he turns, raising his hands to make soothing pats at the great beast. "Oh, shh, whist now, laddie," he says gently. Tapping his wand against his palm, mutters a quick power phrase. "Re ex re ee-o prestos!" He sweeps his hands wide. "Wo-pah!" There's a burst of colorful sparkles that form a shimmering arc over his head. He makes little taps with his wand, counting out a rhythm. "Look, laddie, look!" he urges, as though he were playing with one of his wee nephews or nieces. This is something he's done -many- a time. A soft, ghostly tune begins to tinkle as the sparkles tumble and wheel through the air. It works to pacify rambunctious dwarven children. Hopefully it helps soothe this poor creature as well.

GAME: Randolf casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14

Smuldur slows up and blinks. "Out? Not burning?" He blinks again. He looks at Torchie, then the others, then even to the cowering paper-mulch-undeaded-catlover-thing. Back to Torchie.

The trusted companion is given a reassuring pat. "Power too much. Face makes terror." Smuldur can understand that; Torchie IS pretty darned impressive. "Nap. Burn later." The gobber gently, carefully, stuffs the torch into his beltpouch/loincloth. There, no more fire. Not visible, anyhow.

"Torchie sleeping. Now what?"

With the torch - gone - the creature is apparently pacified. It googles wide-eyed at the colors on display. It's a massive creature now that you get a good look at it. It's skin green and rotten-colored, its flesh held together with stitching and bits of metal. It has strange glowing veins in places which illuminate its body, and it looks all-together like some kind of monstrous undead abomination which was stitched together of various corpses. It has short black hair, and dead white eyes, and an unintelligent mein at the moment. "Preeeeetty." It says, it's voice a guttural moan of sound.

Telamon just stares for a moment, then swallows. "Uh..." He looks at Ignis and Randolf, helplessly. "What is it? It... it's not undead. What... did someone make this thing?" He runs his hand through his hair, and looks up at the reassuring skies to compose himself again.

"That was my first thought..." says Ignis after a moment of shocked silence and then intense study. He nods to Telamon as he speaks and then rubs his jaw, "I've heard of such things but I'm by no means studied enough to be able to tell for certain what it might be. It's clear it's not intending on being hostile though." He gives the creature a long look and then considers, "Perhaps we should ask it why it's bothering the villagers? Is it ...lonely?”

GAME: Randolf rolls knowledge/arcana: (14)+13: 27
GAME: Smuldur rolls knowledge/arcana: (9)+5: 14

Randolf swirls his wand, making the music rise as the sparkles join to form snowflake patterns. "Bum ba dum dum... ahh-ahh-ahh... da-da-da-da-dum tee dum tee dum!" He hops from foot to foot, gamboling spiritedly around the golem, leading a parade of illusory patterns of light in a spiral around the golem--for that's clearly what it is. The more Randolf looks, the more he realizes. Ending up at the beginning of his circle, he sweeps his hands up high and makes a flourish with his wand. The sparkles begin following a pre-programmed pattern, allowing him to turn and address his comrades. "He's a flesh golem," he says. "He's nae undead at all. There's nae dark magic givin' him life an' movement." He looks back over his shoulder. "I read all 'bout 'em in Professor Divancci's 'De Profundis Exaedifico: A Taxonomy o' Golems'." He peers up at the poor creature. "He has the mind of a child," he says softly. "Which is tae say... he has a -mind-." He looks back at the others. "Golems dinnae usually -have- minds. Certainly not flesh golems. There's too much decay in their neural pathways. Hell, some of 'em dinnae even have proper -brains-." He looks back up at the thing. "We have tae do summat. We have tae help 'im. Maybe if we could get 'im back tae Alexandria, someone at the Arcanist's Guild could help 'im."

"Not undeaded?" Smuldur would've guessed that, too. "Not cat." That one he's pretty sure of. He stares at the thing. It's true that it's different. It's not sucking blood or gnawing on fingers or eating brains. Which means it could be...

"Meat puppet!" he suddenly announces in epiphany! Ok, Randolf's explanation helps a little with that, too.

"Made by cats." The last part was left out, but explains alot of things. Why it wanted chased and then suddenly stopped. Why it was pounding on doors (to knock them over for no reason!). The missing chickens. Skulking about as it pleased and then unexpectedly appearing...

So there's a plan. Ok. That works, Smuldur guesses. Not as fun as burning, but it's something. He points at Randolf. "You carry him?"

"Well we certainly can't leave him here." says Ignis after hearing the explanation. "The townspeople would have undoubtedly done him harm and he them in wild self defense. However ..we should consider that something had to have made it and that him..it..and that there was repeated attempts at trying to get indoors, enough for them to call for help. There are some things here that are still to mysterious for my liking."

As the magical display comes to an end, and Randolf turns to his allies, they before him will realize that something akin to /intelligence/ is returning to its blank gaze. "LITTLE MAN." The golem manages, it's voice rough and ill-adjusted to speaking. Yet it /manages/ which is a miracle in of itself. He reaches out and pokes Randolf in the back with one giant finger. "MASTER. MASTER BAD."

The flesh golem rises to its feet, towering but still cautious of you. "Master bad. Master come. Master hurt people." He points to the village. It's trying to express /something/. But seems to have a limited vocabulary.

"Confusion, loneliness, the stray scraps of whatever memories still linger in its flesh. Wouldn't take much..." Telamon muses. Then the golem rouses itself, and he blinks. "...Oh, hell. Correct me if I'm off on this -- maybe its master is looking for more... spare parts? A village out here... it'd be a pretty attractive target. If you didn't care much how you got the bodies..."

Randolf grunts a bit as the golem pokes at him. "Oy, easy now!" he grumbles, rubbing his shoulder with a glower. He pauses mid-mutter. Robbed of his mystic attention, the sparkles wink out one by one, the spell brought to its end. "Master..." He looks between the others, nodding his head slowly. His gaze tracks back towards the village and his face turns white as milk. "Reos be merciful," he says. "I think ye might have the right of it, lad. I think..." He looks back up at the golem. "Where is Master, laddie? Do ye remember -where-?"

Smuldur looks to the rising meat popsicle, to the others. "Hurt people? Where? No villager hurt." Now he looks back up. Well, up MORE at the bigger big'un. "Master bad in village or bad master in village?"

"Mon-ster - Master." The flesh golem points to himself and moves lumberingly away from the village. "Master hurt people. Mon-ster." He points to himself again. Again it seems like he's trying to communicate something with a very limited vocabulary. He doesn't talk further however, leading you over the valley to the edge of where the river meets the woods. There's a huge house there, at the top of a hill with a massive barn beside it that seems to be missing its roof. The golem points to the house and it's hand wavers.

"MASTER."

-TBC