[Storyline] Thrill of the Hunt
[This post is longer than previous additions. It is not superfluous, however. I will attempt to be more brief in future posts.]
[I recommend this music for enhanced reading pleasure. Enjoy.] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTSjvIHWAMQ[Event] The Clean Up
[Thanks to Hemmel, Zalya, Mekora, Anysu, Sarren and Prreta for their participation.]
Attempts to cure the poison were for naught. Roled and Evirea's heart rates began to decline. Still, hope remained. They had one clue: a hide mask dropped by the masked assailant. It retained the initials: 'T.W of Ojaveda' scrawled on one side; the mark of a leather-worker.
Thus the friends of Roled and Evirea embarked on a path to Ojaveda for answers. They deliberated outside the city walls. Night had begun to fall into the late evening hours. Previously bright lights of the city slowly went out. Sounds of laughter and song, work and play, chatter and gossip, all faded steadily, as the denizens of Ojaveda returned to their homes, and eventually sleep. That sleep, however, would be without nightmares. It would not endanger lives.
Inquiries...Soon, the friends known as Zalya, Sarren, Anysu, Prreta and Mekora ventured into the city. Deciding the best course of action would lie with Trasok -- a fellow crafter -- they went to his store. Prreta, Mekora and Zalya greeted the famed smith.
After examining the item, Trasok stated the item was made by Telal W'arahai, a local Ojaveda leather-worker. The shop was nearby, on the other side of the street. Because of the hour, however, it was closed. Thus they would have to visit to his tent by the warehouse district.
Still, he was suspicious. Such a mask, with holes for the eyes, mouth, and ears, could only be for criminals. They thanked him, and went their way, gaining quick glances from the smith. Once outside, Zalya pulled Prreta aside to reprimand her for drawing suspicion. The others wondered about the best course of action. Trasok entered the doorway and watched them, cleaning his hands with a rag. Already the investigation was under watchful eye. They chose quickly, and moved on to the warehouse district.
Once a home...A beggar sat by the wayside, dirty and disheveled. It was past midnight, and the streets were lonely. With the fenkis leading, they made their way up the ramp by the beggar's rather tipsy post, and into a grouping of tents. Wandering off, they searched for the right one. The friends had forgotten to ask what the leather-worker even looked like, or the distinguishing marks of the home.
Yet one tent's flap swung back and forth in the windy night air. Prreta walked close out of curiosity. There she witnessed horror. On the ground lay Telal W'arahai, surrounded by a pool of blood. The right arm was outstretched, and the left clutching something underneath the body. Appalled at the ghastly scene, Prreta called out for the others in a shaking voice. "Zalya? Anysu? Come here!" The three fenkis came, and saw what had occurred. The leather-worker was dead.
Inside, the tent smelled of blood, Red Liquor, and hides. Beds, shelves, chairs, tables and cushions furnished the area. The shelves held leather-working tools and ingredients. Others carried more personal items. It took awhile before they settled. Zalya never did, and remained useless, shocked by death and blood. She bumped into one of the shelves and sent a stack of hides falling on top of her. After recovering, the frightened fenki noticed a worn and folded note that had originally laid underneath the leather-working ingredients. It read:
"To my dear mate, S'rahoi. My love goes out to you. Though I love my work, each hour without you is a loss of time. For our anniversary, tonight our entire family will dine well. I will bring home select cuts and sauces. From Telal, your mate.Prreta gingerly looked around, and saw a small, leather bound book on a table. She picked it up, and began to read. Anysu boldly walked toward the body and then knelt beside it. After covering her face, she lifted the body to see what the dead Akkaio's left hand clutched. It turned out to be a a small chest wound. The work of a dagger. This went unobserved by the group. After closer examination, it turned out to be infected with poison. Anysu's sharp eyes and nose caught what others would have missed. The body was without bruises or broken bones. As it turned out, the killer had known the victim, who was stabbed from behind. Presumably, the killer had asked the victim to show him something from the shelf. Seizing the opportunity, he struck. This too went unobserved.
Now the body began disappearing, presumably to the Death Realm. Anysu watched it depart, leaving a pool of drying blood. The half empty Red Liquor mugs near Zalya would have shown the killer had drinks before he struck. She did not pay much attention to these items.
Anysu brought her findings to the attention of the group. Then Prreta, finishing her reading, told them about the black leather-clad, one-eared Clamod who purchased the mask. She discovered a pouch of coin should be under a shelf nearby, and that Telal's wife was away with the children on a vacation to Hydlaa. The family would return very soon, at any time.
All looked around for the pouch of trias mentioned in the journal. They promised to bring it to the wife. But it was nowhere to be found. Zalya took the journal, and together they left. Knowing the killer to be nearby, a sense of urgency was imposed. They had a description of him, and knew poison was involved.
Outside, Sarren and Mekora had conversed with the beggar to achieve nothing. Eventually, the group ganged up on him, and used contradicting methods. Much to their fortune, no guards patrolled by during that time. For Mekora threatened the beggar with his galkard. By means of force, Sarren held the poor Clamod in an arm-lock. Then they offered him circles. Again and again, they wasted time. Carrow, the beggar, did not want to reveal what he knew for fear of dying at the hands of a cutthroat. It was a reasonable fear, given his state. For a killer was out there, somewhere. Eventually Carrow capitulated. Two had come to the tent: Telal, and a Clamod wearing black leather. Later, only the armored man came out. The beggar had been on the other side of the street at the time. Mekora threw the bag of coin to Carrow, and the group went on its way, back to the Akkaio district, where they had first arrived.
A place to drink...In Brado's tavern, the group sat by the bar and took drinks, looking about the place carefully. After purchasing some liquor and cider, they began to probe the bartender for information. Prreta flirted with the Enkidukai, who fell to her charms quite easily. He remarked on the shadier types sitting upstairs. They all quickly made their way up to the second floor.
There in the back corner sat a black leather-clad, one-eared Clamod. He wore a short-sword on his left hip. On the table sat a partially drunk beer mug. His narrow eyes darted to the five of them. On the balcony, a Ynnwn in dark grab. He was nonchalant, and paid them little mind. Though he was observant.
The group was fidgety, and unassertive. Yet they knew this was the killer. He fit the description from the journal Zalya held, and the beggar's testimony. Prreta and Sarren drifted off to balcony, and engaged in a fruitless conversation with the shady Ynnwn. He appeared to be unconcerned with their inquiries, until they became bothersome. Later, he would leave to the narrowed glance of the killer. This slight interaction went unnoticed. Zalya stepped forward, and attempted to charm the Clamod. To no avail, for he rebuffed her. Mekora tried to talk business, with vague offers of a job, and coin. After repeated attempts from both, he stood up, and began to walk away, suspicious. He was too careful and experienced for these fronts.
Mekora, frustrated, dropped his last bag of coin on a nearby table. Then, once more, Zalya took the aggressive stance. She said, louder than her words before, "Here's how it is. We know what you did, and we have some darn good evidence. It will be presented to the courts. You walk away now, the guard catches you. You're hard to miss. You stay and answer some questions and...th-they, th-they won't hear about it."
The killer stopped in his tracks immediately at the sound of her words. He turned around, eyes wide. Arching his back, he stepped forward menacingly. Anysu drew closer to Zalya. Mekora took a more defensive stance, galkard at the ready. They argued back and forth. Zalya, Anysu and Mekora brought forth the mask, the journal, the message with an ultimatum, and more threats. He was shaken, but betting they didn't have enough. Then came the final piece of leverage: a witness. The beggar: Carrow, who had seen the Clamod walk in with Telal, and come out alone. A bluff to be sure, since they had committed violence against the homeless Enkidukai despite his wishes for safety. He would surely not have testified.
Sweating, the killer looked about the room. Quickly, Mekora blocked the stairwell. Suddenly, the wail of a woman pierced the silence as if it were a knife to the heart. Shock crashed over him, and the hair on his back froze.
Telal's wife... Then came the children's' cries.
What have I done... Nothing was more precious than a child. For the Packs, there would be no mercy for such a crime. A loving father, murdered in his own home. There would be a price, and the Clamod would pay it dearly.
All turned their heads to the striking sounds of grief. Now shouts could be heard in the distance.
Guards. He knew that unless he struck a deal, his fate would be sealed. In a strained voice he said, "Now the authorities will know!" His wild eyes combed the room. Zalya spoke in a stern voice as she stepped forward, "Tell us what we want to know and you can start running."
Mekora still blocked the stairway. Thus the killer spilled everything. He was hired by a hooded Enkidukai, who paid well. He was to buy the hide mask. Bring it to the real buyer. But he had forgotten to speak of the initials. Out of nowhere, the hooded Enkidukai returned and told the killer to clean up the mess. He paid more. So Enatare purchased poison from Oriega, the best in Hydlaa. Then he came to Ojaveda and slaughtered Telal W'arahai in his own home after drinks.
Mekora moved away from the staircase, and the killer bolted. He was free. The group stood on the second floor, discussing. In the background, guards shouted. A woman and her children grieved. A good Akkaio lay dead, murdered in his own home. The killer was let go. They had forgotten to take the leather-worker's stolen pouch of coins and bring it to the wife as they promised. Moreover, a beggar was bruised, threatened and handled roughly. Justice would not be served. In the process of aiding Roled and Evirea, these friends had dirtied their hands.
They spoke quietly about the matter. Who was the poison-maker, Oriega? Anysu sniffed the poisoned dagger. It was the same as that which infected the leather-worker's wound. Where could they find him? Above all of this, thoughts of Roled, and Evirea.
Sleeping. Nightmares. Death in the air. Hearts beating slower, and slower.The killer ran into the night, out of the city gates, and away from what he once called his home. Tears ran down his face. In his heart, he knew he could have done differently. His life was chosen, not given. Thus he was one of the wicked who knew in advance.
Unforgiven he thought, as his heart pounded, as paws caught up dust, as he fled into darkness. In his heart, Enatare knew he could never return home.
[More questions. Fewer answers. Who is the Ynnwn? Why was he there? Who is this violent and connected masked assailant? Where is Oriega? Did he make the poison which drowns Roled and Evirea in nightmares? More to come, as the story continues...]