[IC] Death & Taxes (Session 4)

"One with nature" Nekurr considers, taking that far too literally. "Fortuna bless" he adds assuming that is sort of good luck for a Druid/nature mage, almost as if Nekurr would be one with lucky, at the casino... "Sad he is not coming with us" the big cat yowls not fully realizing bruv is dead, but still understanding that attaining his own sort of fulfilment means he will follow is own path.

It takes a few hours for everyone to say goodbye—goodbye to Buzzard's Ford, goodbye to the Castor family, goodbye to Bruv, goodbye to generations of prosperity and fertility. Telling the villagers about the Night Creepers and the cult to the Bird God doesn't resonate well at first. You get the distinct impression that nearly everyone was in the dark about the cult, about the yearly sacrifices, about the whole thing. For all they knew, they were worshipping Aris, Nature's Lady, and she was blessing them for their devotion. With nothing to lose, though, Zymph and other cultists confess. The other villagers react not with anger, but merely resignation. Everything they once knew, their parents knew, their grandparents knew... that's all gone.

The march around the swamp and to the north is slow-going. With more than a hundred refugees and prisoners, only a handful of salvageable carts, and even fewer horses, you are only able to move as quickly as the slowest person. With Nekurr back to normal, you're able to keep the throng energized with blessings from Fortuna, while Hildar conjures food to keep them fed. The voyage is otherwise uneventful. The only "encounter" of note comes about a half-day's march around the perimeter of the swamp, when you stumble upon the remnants of a cage, smashed open and empty. You're fairly certain it's the one Anzila was last seen within.

It takes a good four days to get to the Crossroads Inn, stopping and sleeping each night along the way under the moon or in the rain as the weather dictates. While the tavern that lies halfway between Buzzard's Ford and Nornholt is ill-equipped to feed or house everyone, the innkeeper is at least able to send a rider north to Nornholt to get help for the refugees. The next morning, a team of wagon-men arrive from Nornholt, with wagons enough to let the weakest refugees ride into town. You reach the city in two more days.

The arrival of so many haggard, worn-down villagers causes a stir in the city. You turn them over to the care of the mayor, who seems reluctant but duty bound to take over their care. The villagers thank you for your help, but it seems half-hearted. This is a worn-down lot, a group of people who have lost everything. They seem thankful to be alive, but you get the impression that many of them wish you had never set foot in their village.

Within two days of your arrival back home, the baron sends for Lady Argus. News of the Buzzard's Ford crisis has reached the castle, and he demands a full report. Your employer asks you to go with her. You know your client is in the castle, so you reluctantly agree.

After three day's ride, you arrive at the castle. Lady Argus sighs. "You should head to the treasury to see our client. Good luck. I'll be with the baron when you need me."

Tronus nods and sighs walking towards their client for the long story coming.

Nekurr agrees that discussing the .... issue... with the client is probably a good idea. Fortuna willing, Rathin will know enough of the inner workings of the barony to whip up some good story to keep everyone out of trouble, including the villagers

You find Rathin Vintoloness hard at work balancing some ledgers in the treasury office. The room is large and airy, mostly an open space with several desks and shelves of similarly bound books lining the walls. Your arrival captures the attention of the three bored-looking clerks in the space. Vintoloness stands up, ramrod straight, and asks to speak to you in a small castle chamber nearby, which seems to be used for storage.

You come clean about what happened, as you understand it: Kellis Isle made it to Buzzard's Ford. He made an ass of himself, throwing his weight around and insulting the locals. The town mayor, Castor Wayland, agreed to hand over the owed funds the next morning. That night, Isle got drunk on the mayor's alcohol stores, and the mayor gave him the back taxes and demanded he leave immediately.

Isle seems to have awakened the town ferryman, Skeeter Zymph, not knowing the ferryman was in cahoots with a dark witch named Anzila, masquerading as a simple weaver. Anzila killed Isle, hid the tax payments, and used the dead man's body for her alchemical experiments in breeding flesh-infesting spiders. Zymph then told the mayor and anyone else who wanted to know that Isle had fled the town by dark of night.

What you learned in the course of your investigations revealed an even deeper conspiracy that went back to nearly the founding of the village. It seems that Buzzard's Ford suffered from the same curse that has affected all of Cailn barony: No crops would grow. However, town lore has it that an ancestor of the Wayland clan traveled into the swamp on a vision quest and came back with the secret to prosperity: An annual festival in honor of Aris, goddess of plenty. However, what you've uncovered is that a secret cabal of villagers, led by the line of hereditary mayors, has secretly been obtaining the town's prosperity by offering an annual blood sacrifice each year to Harridan, a dark bird god. The town has prospered, but each year, the winner of the festival pageant is either inducted into the cult (and another contestant sacrificed), or else the winner him- or herself is sacrificed. Then rumors are passed around that the winner split town to make it big elsewhere.

You prevented the yearly sacrifice, unsure at the time of how involved the cult was with Isle's death, but determined to stop the evil practice one way or another. As a result, Harridan seems to have retracted her dark blessing, and the town is now uninhabitable.

Zymph has supplied the missing pieces: Mayor Wayland was impotent, unable to bear children for some reason. Anzila showed up promising to rectify this by "completing" the town's cult of Harridan by introducing Arachne, a spider god and Harridan's consort. However, this was actually a ploy to take over the cult for herself, something that only became evident when Anzila began targeting you and your investigation. Wayland tried to stop her coup attempt and sacrifice the murderous witch—thereby satisfying Harridan for another year to boot—but you thwarted his efforts.

You hand over Buzzard's Ford's back taxes, along with Kellis Isle's signet ring as proof of his demise. Vintoloness turns bright red, the tips of her Elven ears particularly. Nevertheless, she pays you the agreed-upon sum. Little use it is at the moment, though, as the baron has forbidden any members of Argus Inquiries from leaving the castle until he receives a full account of what has now become a full-fledged refugee crisis.

Tronus is frank and candid with what happened and the weight of the account seems to continuously weigh like heavier stones stacked on top their employer by their reaction. In the silence he mentions a bit of his share of the payment can be given to the newly made widow of Isle along with a split on if there's a reward of sorts for uncovering the machinations of possibly unearthing and stopping not one but two followings of forbidden magic and dark gods. Tronus bids his time after the meeting to see what the big picture and plan is of the Baron from here and to see if they'll have new marching orders now or if the job can be put to rest to look into other endevours..

Hildar also gives a fairly direct, if painfully detailed account of the events that occurred. During his account he can't help but express regret at the death of the mayor, his personal feeling on the mans character is that he was most likely stuck in a bad position but trying to do what he felt best for his people. Whilst he doesn't doesn't come straight out and say he thinks they were mistaken interrupting the ritual his personal opinion on the way things played out certainly colours his testimony somewhat.

As for the tome he recovered with the taxes, well mentioning it seems to just slip his mind.....

Nekuur listens carefully to the story, saying a blessing or two to Fortuna at particularly dark or lucky times in the narrative. He doesn't add much to it as his memory is a blur of birds, swamp and a big tree being swept down the river. Though he points out that the dark "Wayland pact" was kept a secret so most villagers are innocent bystanders. He also mentions the lizardfolk's tribe that has been exiling several members for trying to spread knowledge of some sort of Demon Gods and how no one knows where Anzila is. And pipeleaf. That was illegal right?

Vintoloness doesn't like what she hears. She doesn't like it one bit. "I didn't hire you to be heroes or to stop a cult or to stamp out the pipe leaf trade. I hired you to find my tax collector and get the money. I guess you did that. But now my name's out there as the one who hired you..." She blushes and sighs. "I suppose the silver lining here, if there is one, is that the refugees in Nornholt are now a more pressing matter than fifteen years of missing taxes. If I'm lucky, my role here will be the least of the baron's worries." She opens a large strongbox from a key on her hip. "You held up your end of the bargain." She hands over 360 gold. "Word is you're being detained here at the castle until a full inquiry can be made. Let's hope you get to leave soon."

"To be fair, you did have the best interests of the barony in mind. I mean, fifteen years of taxes? And, if I may say, you were the one noticing something strange. Something that, by Fortuna's invisible hand, turned out to be demons worshiping in the baron's lands!" he grabs the payment, grabs a coin and flips it. "I'd say you're the heroine here"

"I usually don't really agree with Mister Nekurr but I agree... also the alternative was to let dark magic and sacrificial cults to keep on doing things as normal... you're not suggesting we should have supported them in their endevours and let the sacrifice happen while we were there and gone the way of Mr. Isle and get ourselves killed instead are you?" Tronus states raising an eyebrow.

Her eyes meet Nekurr and Tronus's in turn, and she manages a resigned smile. "Yes, I suppose that is something. Let's hope the lords see it your way when the tribunal begins. Gods be with you."