IC - Village of Limm

Ognimir halts in his tracks. The sound from the direction of the Veil paralyzes him for a brief moment.

"Go get your sword."

He then turns and heads toward the edge of the village, in the direction of the keening. He mutters a quiet curse as he realizes he left his halberd with the horse, and thus pivots and heads to the stables at a fast trot. He figures the eerie call will summon his fellow Guardians as well, and he can't be late.

Danill nods, dumbly at Ognimir. He runs as fast as he can, breath puffing in the autumn air.

Slamming through the inn's common room, Danill ignores shouts and curses from patrons he jostles. In his room he buckles on the worn leather sword belt, securing the pin through one of the extra holes he added via his knife. He then pulls on his leather vest and shoulders his shield.

When finished he storms down the rickety stairs and back through the common room--"Make way! Outta the way! Guardian business! I said move you bumpkin!" and runs back into the chill evening, toward the where he and Ognimir had parted.

Quintus certainly doesn't relish the thought of encountering darkly the throat that would make such an unwholesome noise. He notices the firelight rising towards the center of the village and recalls Tiyem's pyre.

"The night comes on quickly, sir," he observes, as if Damir might not be perfectly well aware of this fact. "Let us return to the common, where the boy's funeral fire must now be burning, and bethink us how best to proceed."

So saying, he recovers his low and stocky horse from where it has been grazing near Ciara's cottage. With a glance at Damir, he turns the beast and moves back towards the center of Limm as calmly as he may. Which, despite his profession and oath to defy all that would cross the Veil, is not quite as calmly as one might expect of a Guardian. His robes swish about his boots. He's hustling a bit.

Damir offers his hand to the girl, should she wish to come along, then nods to Quintus and joins him.
Dommic and Danill. The father, maybe, if his affinity for drink hasn't made him useless. A former lover of the boy perhaps? Wolves alone did not kill the flutist. Did the arrow came before or after the animalistic attack,though ...
There are too many ifs and maybes still.

Damir will share what he knows with Ognimir as soon as possible and is keen on hearing what the other has found.

Once back in the heart of Limm, Quintus ties up his mount to any convenient post or spar. He takes the crossbow from his saddle and shoulders his quiver of quarrels. Then, mumbling an apology for the apparent sacrilege, he shakes loose a burning brand from the unfortunate Tiyem's pyre. With crossbow in one hand and makeshift torch in the other, he's as ready as he'll ever be; of course he'll have to throw down the brand before firing, but better that than to stalk eldritch prey in the dark of night.

Quintus looks to the other assembled Guardians. His attention pauses upon Danill, who seems to have drafted himself into their service, but given the circumstances, Quail chooses not to comment. Instead he says, "Sirs, have any of you heard that sound before? Do you know what manner of beast..." The question is certainly beyond Quintus' own experience.

Awkwardly adjusting his belted sword--he can't seem to decide if he should stand holding the hilt or not--Danill sucks at the empty spaces between his remaining teeth.

"It's a new one on me..." he replies to Quintus.

The thrill of being included tamping down the fear he should be feeling right now...

Ognimir's voice hisses out harsh and faint-- an unusual amount of talking today has worn on his vocal cords.
"I suspect the Veil cries out with rage, as whatever veil-fiend infested Tiyem's corpse succumbed to the flames."

Ognimir tells his companions of his encounter with the wolves, and about the heroics of Maple. In the dim light, should they care to look, they can see the tattoos on his arms are faint and weak-- meaning he has no spell energy.

"It's unnatural, their grief." He looks to the crowd of mourners. "Best I could do to recruit backup was this one." He rolls his eyes to Danill. "Not even the idea of a tear out of his eye."
"Quintus, do you know of any spell that could enchant an entire town like Limm? You must admit, this much adoration from such hardworking folk is unusual."

Ognimir ponders that maybe Tiyem was veiltouched before the Wolfs infested him...
The roar and flicker of the flame give him an odd comfort.

Danill nods to Quintus and Damir. "Good ta see you again fellas."
Danill sides up to Damir and lightly elbows him as Podreg headss off. "Podreg," he says to the Gaurdian. "He's an odd fellow. Always trailing after his twin Dommic. Keep yer eye on him."

"Far be it from me, Ognimir, to cast any aspersion on these humble folk," Quintus Quail says. He puffs up a little in his robes, like a strange and flightless bird. "It would be uncharitable to wonder if perhaps they gather round Tiyem's bier out of a mere desire for spectacle and respite from their dull and rustic rounds. No, sir. Let us leave them to mourn their own as they see fit."

Quintus raises his torch. He peers into the fast-descending darkness, in the direction of those unearthly cries.

"Shall we be off, then?" he asks, without stirring from his place.

Ognimir takes a moment to think of the mourning from this different perspective then quietly nods.
"Fair point, Quail. Fair point."

After hearing Ognimir agree with Quail, Danill nods sagely--even if he's unsure of the meaning of several words the robed man used.

After bringing Ognimir up to speed, praising his weapon and mare and raising an eyebrow at the support Danill and the archer twin offer, Damir leaves with the others to investigate the noise. He turns and asks the villagers to be carful, keep torches and weapons close and signal them should anything dangerous occur during the next few hours.

He then asks whether the young man with the bow knew the corpse well and about what he thought of the girl.

Danill hops over a log and keeps pace with Podreg. "Yeah, but your brother is interested in her eh?"

He huffs lightly.

"But you know she is...was....interested in Tiyem. How'd y'all feel about that?"

He watches his face, looking for clues in his response.