Chapter 1 - Summer

Elaine keeps in the rear of the group, dejectedly staring at the backs of her companions as they travel. Now that the rush of the chase is gone, she feels quite miserable - exhausted, sweaty, and her derriere is pained by all this extreme horse riding. Not to mention that the baron, apparently sensing some sort of blue blood in her veins, kept complaining to her specifically; like she can do anything about his troubles or Gold Coats' hiring policy. It's all familiar, though; so Elaine grits her teeth and politely smiles that yes, they'll address his worries and pass the word to the Queen. Like hell they will...

She can't quite hold back an exasperated sigh at the sight of the crowd, and opts for removing herself from this encounter by guiding the horse to the side and busying herself with dismounting before anyone cares enough to pay attention to her. Luckily she manages to not fall flat on her face. Less luckily, her predictions about the consequences of this ordeal prove true immediately as she briefly struggles to keep her balance. Mother, but Elaine was never suited for physical exertion; not like all of her strong, athletic, tough-looking... okay, maybe that is not exactly true for all of them, but this is her self-pity time, she can hyperbolise.

Once down from the stallion, she awkwardly pats the horse's neck and tries to scan the crowd for the inkeeper. She did borrow the animal from him, after all... Ah, yes, of course he is in the middle of the crowd. Actually, maybe not the best time to talk to him, not with the baron's servant lying on the ground. Speaking of which...

"Is he dead?" She asks bluntly, making her way through the crowd to examine the body - still breathing or not, they ought to move him. And the sooner they do it, the sooner she can catch her breath in peace.

Aloys stays in the back, an eye looking over his shoulder throughout the ride. It was obvious that the young man was flustered with his poor display of swordplay during the chase to rescue the baron and was more than eager for another chance to prove himself. Despite his embarassment, he would still have a grin on his face despite their company's sour disposition; they had successfully rescued him. Truly physics and Elaine's cunning rescued him but he was nearby so that counted.

"Brilliant job back there Elaine." Aloys says as they ride their commandeered horses to the side and dismount. "I don't think I ever would've come up with a genius plan like that. Don't listen to that overgrown tick, you are a brilliant choice for the Gold Coats." Aloys was unaware of her quiet concerns and worries, taking her worried expression to match his own worry that the bandits had escaped their clutches.

The innkeeper was easy to see thanks to the amazing contraption that he rode on; a chair that moved on thousands of beautiful legs. It was slow-moving but it could navigate stairs and kept the man active in his business. A gift from the servants of the Clockmaker given to one of the best of the community. The inn had been changed overtime to aid the man with his business; conveyor belts that transported food to their appropriate tables with pulleys to summon a pour of ale from hanging jugs. There was an honor system here and woe be to any who tried to steal a tray that did not belong to them; the town protected their own fiercely.

"Part way! Part way! Gold coats coming through!" Aloys would shout from behind the others, too short to see over the shoulders of his compatriots. Once he arrived at the fallen valet, a frown spread across his face. Kneeling down, he would look over the body and see if the poor man was alive and what killed him.

While his companions check the body of the valet, Sans dismounts from the plough horse and with a practiced gesture arranges his cape into a veil covering most of his face, as he has done many times in public to avoid unsettling onlookers. The veil leaves his eyes uncovered. He stands aside, away from the focus of attention.

He helps Issac dismount too.

He then starts looking for an errand boy from the Inn, eventually finding a lad he has noticed on previous visits. He raises a hand and waves at him. The boy must be not yet fourteen years of age, but has a smart, alert air about him.

"Here, my boy," he says. "There's a florin for you if you walk this old boy," he pats the plough horse on the neck, "to his legitimate owner, who lent it to the Gold Coats. You know the farm by the old bridge..."
He proceeds to give the boy precise instructions for the return of the plough horse. "Tell the owner that the Gold Coats have a debt of gratitude with him for his service to the Queen," he adds.

The last thing the Gold Coats need, is a reputation of being horse thieves... he thinks, watching the boy lead the plough horse out of the Inn's courtyard.



He then focuses his attention back on Aloys by the valet body, awaiting his findings.

Issac blurts out "Aye, you remind me of my sister a bit..." towards Elaine, before catching himself, his expression changing swiftly from genuine smile to tight-lipped silence. Aye, there were moments where Elaine pulled off a quick-thinking, ingenious move, such as the carriage dismantling, that brought back memories of Isabela doing something similar (jury rigging a broken prop or set piece, or finding just the right item to make a character shine, before curtains open).

Having Elaine on board certainly made the job easier, and dare-he-say, he might have even felt a tinge protective about her. But those were thoughts for another day.

He dismounted, I'll have to find that stable boy while here, and moved up to where Elaine and Aloys had moved near the body. Hope the poor chap is only sleeping one, or five, off. "Sir Regnard, does your valet like to imbibe greatly in meads and such?"

Elaine & Aloys ~ The crowd part way at your shouted approach, the Innkeeper's clock-work chair whirs and hums as he yanks levers and cranks wheels; the contraption "walks" backward.



He glares at the body, the guards, and the Gold Cloaks all in turn. Dead bodies are bad for business.





Aloys ~ One of the Queen's Guards has just pulled a cloak off the valet's body for all to see the wound--you'd be able to tell, clearly, this man died from several, hasty stab wounds--likely bled out; amateur work.

But it's the Guard (captain if the plumes in his held helmet are correct) who answers Elaine.

"Aye m'lady. Assassin done 'im in for. Nasty business." Clearly indicating the many bloody wounds.

"Twas a long time for it, if'in you catch my meaning."

A local in the crowd swoons and falls to the dirt at the Captain's words. Weak stomach.




Issac ~ The baron answers you in a cold annoyed manner.

"Of course he does; he is little more than a peasant, after all. But never on the job, I've seen to it! Seeing the dead valet, the baron's face pales. He looks at Issac, more to avoid gazing at the dead body. "Did imbibe I suppose."




~

---

Sans ~ The stable boy took your coin, happily.

"Aye m'lord." As he knuckled his forelock and ran off.








What does the party do? The scene: the crowd of onlookers are aware of their presence now. Murmurs of "Gold Cloaks..." or "Musketeers..." spread through the crowd. The guardsmen and guardswomen shuffle about nervously under your scrutiny. The guard captain waits on your thoughts, bored and disinterested.

The nobleman's demeanor was starting to get on Issac's nerves. "Reggi, would anyone have a motive to kill ... sorry, what was your valet's name? If the captain here is right, an assassination seems rather personal."

He kneels down and starts rifling through the valet's clothing, to see if anything of interest into the murder catches his eye.

The guard captain stands and steps back from the body so Issac can get to it. He answers the Gold Coat, clarifying what he meant by "assassin."
"Poor choice o' words I s'pose--assassin. But what else would one call a murder in public."
Issac's familiar way of speaking, likewise, is starting to get on Baron Regnard's nerves. "René. His name was René." The baron fidgets with the rings on his fingers. He gets a far-off look.

"I was climbing aboard my carriage. Masked villains appeared from beyond the stable there. They demanded I get in my carriage. My driver was thrown from his perch--or at least he must have been. René attempted to...intervene."

In a quieter voice, "Stupid fool."



Issac ~ A leather bound appointment book, a handful of copper and a few silver. That's what you find on René. In his hand, the dead man clutches a piece of fabric--obviously torn from his attackers homespun clothing. The fabric is of the most vibrant, deep red--a wonder to the eye.

"The lord's driver is in th'tavern proper. His been in 'is cups since we arrived." Bored tone. He looks curious at the fabric Issac has found.

A whir from the mechanical chair. The Innkeeper speaks, more to himself than any audience."Drinking my finest brandy I might add. Glad for the coin, I am, but how'll I entertain dignitaries like his lordship without it." The keep nods toward the baron.

Looking at the captain, "I suppose one would just call it a murder."

Pocketing the notebook for perusal later, and coins, All-Maker knows they could use it, he shows the fabric to his compatriots, "Do any of you recognize this as a possible brigand marking or insignia? The material looks unique."

Catching the manner in which Regnard speaks of Rene, after showing the fabric, Issac saddles up close to the noble, so that they can't be overheard, and looks him in the eyes. With a calm, soothing tone "I can't quite tell yet if this is a drama, mystery or romance we're dealing with, but dare I say there's a poignancy in your manners and tone when speaking of Rene. Was there something going on betwixt the two of you?" Business dealings, or a dalliance, that went wrong?"

Sans looks at the red fabric that Issac is showing them.
That is one rare hue, surely I'd remember if I saw it on the brigands... Or elsewhere?... He muses, trying to concentrate.

Issac ~ The baron allows you to lead him a discreet distance to hear what you have to ask. And then he hears it.

"How dare you sir! First, my duties to my Duke allow me no time for such frivolities--being the Duke's favored cousin I take said duties very serious. Second, the man was quite below my station. Still, I do not think the he deserved to die, is all!" The red in his face climbs.

"Perhaps you should be more concerned with the safety of these "royal roads" than my relationship with those I employ, which is none of your business! This day has exhausted me for obvious reasons! I shall retire to my room here. I expect a new carriage to be procured for me, out of the Queen's coffers."He turns to push through the crowd and head for the inn...

---

Sans ~ The significance of the brilliant dye is lost on you (as I'm sure you know). But the masks the highwaymen wore...something about it tickles your dormant memories...the style, the way they were worn...You think of laborers--working folk.

Aloys watched as the Baron began to part the waves of the crowd like a great boat sailing down a river, rolling his eyes momentarily at the man's arrogance. Turning to the body, his dismissive gaze turned sadder.

"Poor man, trying to do right by his employer and paid the price for it." Rising up, he would brush himself off with a nod. Sans had a look upon his horrific mug that, once Aloys could stomach looking at him, meant he was deep in thought. "What are you thinking Sans? Any ideas? I could go and talk to the driver, figure out where he got such coin for such expensive drink." The fact the driver was drinking himself stupid on such fine wine didn't sit well with the Gold Cloak and an idea was forming in his own mind.

Sans draws a blank trying to remember any association with the red cloth. A splitting headache ensnares him in its clutches, as if his mind was warning him not to try to peek beyond the wall of oblivion that the trauma of the attack suffered has built in his head.
He winces and has to support himself against the inn wall. He notices a few people looking in his direction.
so much for trying to remain unnoticed...

After a moment, he sees Aloys walking towards him and tries to answer his question. Words are a little lazy to come.
"Ideas... Yes. I think..." he tries to clear his head and continues, "the masks, Aloys... That the highwaymen wore. Somehow... They made me think of labourers?... Something about them, and how they were worn..."
He doesn't manage to be clearer than this, and realises he is sounding like a halfwit.

One of the villagers at the back of the crowd turns and watches Sans as he supports himself against the wall. His eyes turn to Aloys.

"Eh oh. Is 'e sick?" The man's creased face looks nervous. "We ain't lookin' for another bout of ruby fever round these parts."







A woman in the crowd mutters nervously. There is a general sense that folks are feeling nervous, what with a murder, a kidnapping, and scarred and dangerous looking fellow seeming unwell...

Issac purses his lips at Regnard's rebuke. "My apologies your majesty, only trying to get to the bottom of things." He gestures his hand in a friendly manner towards the inn, letting Regnard through, "I'd suggest staying close though, in case you're needed for any further questioning." giving a curt smile. What a right prick.

He looks around, spotting Aloys and Sans. Heading towards them he notices the nervous murmuring of the crowd. Once there, "Boys," jerking his thumb back at the crowd, "shall we do something about this?"

Sans takes another moment to recover, and waits for a few onlookers to look away from him.
Then he replies to Issac, "I think we should. A band of masked highwaymen attacking on the Queen's Road and murdering with impunity is a matter of concern for the Gold Coats. We should look into this, and bring the brigands to the Queen's Justice."

He adjusts his cape to ensure it partially conceals his face, then adds "I think a conversation with the driver is in order, if he is a little sober. Then again, the fine wine might have loosened his tongue... better if I stay out of the Inn, though. I will see if I find some witnesses among this crowd..."

Elaine, as is her habit, completely removes herself from the action once everyone else take the lead. There is no need for her to bother as long as her companions cover all aspects of the situation, and she had enough action to last the whole week. Let Sans examine the clue of a mysterious red fabric, Isaac converse with the baron - or rather, judging by the latter storming off red in the face, offend his sensibilities, - and Aloys keep organizing this whole mess and question witnesses. They plan to talk with the driver? Great, she'll make sure to not be in the vicinity and pretend to be busy elsewhere. Although, maybe a drink wouldn't be too bad...

While others are discussing their plans, the woman makes her way around the crowd, approaching the innkeeper and his very curious mechanical chair. If she wasn't this tired, Elaine would've loved to examine it closer - with the man's permission, or without it. "Excuse me, sir?" She attracts the innkeeper's attention with a half-nod, half-bow; technically he is below her station, but habit is a powerful force. "I apologize for borrowing one of your establishment's horses, but he's been of utmost help for our mission." For what reason a man with such a vehicle even needs horses, she can't fathom. Perhaps for guests? For sale? "I thank you for your cooperation."

She pauses, then awkwardly shifts in place, tugging on her scarf, and adds: "...Would you happen to know where I can buy a carrot around here?"

Elaine ~ A series of whirs and the innkeeper turns his chair to face you. You see the man is missing both his legs, just above the knee where his trousers are tied off. He listens as you speak. He appears to become angry as you acknowledge the use of his horse, but your calm tone and demeaner put him at ease, and he can't help but give a thankful nod.

"Aye, m'lady." He squints at the rising sun. "'Bout this time my kitchen boy should be finishing up at the market--it's just down that alley over there. I suppose--"a sigh in his voice--"I could spare one or two (for a price)...though our stew would be that less hearty for my guests.

Otherwise I'm sure you'll find all you need at the market I mentioned. Farmers are all set up and selling by this time."