1. Verses le vin…

The anguished cries of poor Marianne Closnot as the mob dragged her from her home in the still morning were piercing the air with terror. She begged, she pleaded but alas the simple farming community were convinced they had found their culprit. Their cows were miscarrying and dead cats were found all over the neighborhood. With jeers, and cries of spite and malice they dragged her to the small watering pond below the hill of the church of St. Etienne. There she protested her innocence still further. To no avail. Three strong farm hands were instructed to hold her, and drag her beneath the surface bringing her up only so her tormentors could extract a confession of guilt from her. Marianne was accused of witchcraft. It had been the only possible explanation for the wrong doing and this fact was verified by Mme. Leauxtreaux who had seen a peculiar birthmark on the girl’s leg as she washed her families clothes in the adjoining village stream.

Confess your guilt. Confess brayed a villager, practically spitting in the girl’s face with bile. If you do, we promise to be quick. We’ll even send for Monsignor Dallexrand to hear your peace with God. Marianne’s cries of innocence were not the compliance the mob was looking for. Dip her again!

With gargled scream, Marianne plunged once more under the surface. By now the commotion had drawn a steady crowd. Here in Brioude, an important center for trade and livestock, there were many to witness the event. Amongst the crowd some were in terror. Some cheered with every splutter. Most held their tongues in shocked awe and uttered what prayers they might that they were right.

Raddieux the Fallen was an outsider herself, her elvish ancestry requiring her to wear her hair long to hide her ears, and long sleeves and leggings to hide the bruises and burn scars she had received all her life as an unwanted child -- her mother Marie Rose thought her the golden goose, bound to spontaneously generate wealth and prosperity from innate magic, and her stepfather Maurice was even more superstitious than she. It was his brands and belts that had left her skin a living historical map of his dismay at her inability to provide for them.

So when Marianne was plunged into the water, tortured for some perceived slight, Raddieux the Fallen pulled a cudgel, a length of firewood and nearly plunged into the water. A dozen years of torment, and she was near to breaking. A dozen years of hard work, of fighting and training, of preparing for the inevitable fiery explosion of her fraying temper.

It was her ofttimes co-conspirator Farfule, that snagged an arm and gave her pause for her reckless charge.

Slouched against the shadowed recesses of St. Etienne’s doors after yet another long night of unprofitable, back breaking work, Alderic StGeorge stared down at the crowd gathering round the pond.

He was not a particularly clever man, but he was smart enough to know the start of something dangerous when he saw it. The mood of a crowd could turn vicious when fear was present. Even when the supposed source of that fear had been your neighbor for as long as you could remember.

Still, dangerous things were often the most profitable, if you could only manage to stay out of them. Such was the great trick of life, part of which was knowing who to trust and who not to trust—a tricky business indeed. With that in mind he did his best to imprint the faces of each of the farmhands and ringleaders in his memory before uttering a prayer for the poor woman.

O Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us the sinners. He crossed himself reverently before mumbling And if she should die, let her at least die rich, so those of us left might share in her earthly good fortune.

"Don't do it, Raddiuex, just don't," Farfule whispers through clenched teeth, tightly clutching Raddieux's arm as soon as he sees her grab her cudgel. He squeezes it hard enough to get her full attention.

Raddiuex could be impetuous he knew. Smart as a whip she was but often too quick to act and not always in her best interests. This was one of those times when her fiery temper was about to get the best of her.

Sadly the poor girl in the water was lost. It wasn't that Farfule felt no sympathy. He was practical and this was a lost cause. Someone needed to take the blame for the misfortunes of late and this would at least quiet the witchhunt for now. Was she really a witch? It didn't matter. She was done for, and the masses had found their scapegoat.

"You can do nothing here but turn the angry masses upon you. You will not save her and you understand this, Raddiuex. I know you do."

Magdalena Beauséjour, a recent arrival in the village, watched the proceedings with a troubled look on her fair face. Her normally bright eyes were clouded, and her fists were clenched as the peasants manhandled Marianne, as they threatened and abused the poor woman, groping and drowning her. It was, of course, very unlikely that the wretch was responsible for any of the real or imagined magicks that afflicted the town, but what if she was? What if Closnot did indeed brew potions, cast curses, and fornicate with devils?

The dark-haired beauty's nails dug into her palms as she considered what it might mean to find a sister, to find another like her so quickly -- but she shrank back from the ugly mob when there were calls for the Monsignor to come. She knew how that would end. She knew the cruel hand of the church all too well.

Barefoot in the mud, Magdalena wore a plain and dark gray dress, peasant's garb that was laced tightly in the back, had full skirts that nearly swept the ground, and offered an attractive and lightly freckled décolletage. The young witch wore a leather satchel across her lean body, and its contents made her heart thump in her chest as she thought of what she might do if presented with a man of the cloth such as Monsignor Dallexrand.

"Will we do nothing?" Magdalena said lowly to those that could hear her, those who, like her, wondered if an innocent and terrified woman was about to be wrongly murdered before their eyes.

Gilles stood at the back of the angry mob, up the hill a bit so he -- unfortunately -- had a clear view of the proceedings. He found it distasteful, but he was unwilling to bring the attention of the mob on himself... and so he slunk away.

He quickly made his way behind a building to break line of sight with the gathered townsfolk, then hastened to the poor girl's home. Maybe... just maybe... there would be something there that no witch would have. Something that might stop this mob. With the people gathered by the pond, Gilles hoped no one would notice he was missing.

Raddieux looks at Magdalena, the newcomer clearly as torn as her. "We could grab her and run, but where? Allons, hut, these superstitious imbeciles would turn on their children to avoid the truth. That this village is not alone in its struggles."

She yanks her arm halfheartedly from Farfule, and looks around for other people who might object loudly. Too few.

The man, Alderic by the church. That one, leaving. "Farfule, where is Gilles going? Off to collect some valuables when everyone is focused on the lake?"

"Mais non! How close do you think you'll get before they decide to drown you ... or worse. Don't be a fool. Stay put."

It wasn't just because he didn't want Raddieux harmed, he also didn't need or want the attention. No one could be trusted in Briode, a wicked place full of miserable people out for blood all trying to make themselves feel better about their own wretched lives. He wasn't about to get involved in someone else's business. He specifically wore his brown hair long and unbound to cover his face and dark leggings and breeches with a threadbare dark tunic. He could blend effortlessly into the shadows and when opportunity knocked in the form of loot to be stolen he was always ready to seize the moment. Being noble didn't get anyone anywhere unless you believed in a higher power and heaven's gate, which he most definitely did not.

"It's possible that Gilles is using this commotion to do just that, Raddieux. And good for him if so. Maybe he will split it with us eh?" Farfule replies, his eyes sparkling at that idea, as he feels the village's lust for this woman's death whipping up into a frenzy with every passing minute.

He barely catches Magdalena's words through the din of the witch's cries as his searching eyes find her."What would you have us do, Magdalena? We are outnumbered, n'est pas? Do you want to join her too? Bah! You women, always wanting to save things."

The jeers grew louder as the poor spluttering girl brought her head and soaked hair, which streamed across her face, up another time. Clemence! Mon dieu, please no more. She coughed hard and choked a little at the water in her lungs. Marianne had decided that to hang was preferable to this water bound torture. At least she could pray for a quick death. I did it. I am the witch. The eruption from the crowds gasps were soon over turned by a harsh voice of a woman, Mme. Leauxtreaux. Henri! Fetch a rope and send for the monsignor. Confession! Marianne was dragged from the pond her arms visibly bruised, her clothes soaked and her skin blue with cold. She had lost all color. This morning she would die.

At her small hovel that she shared with her mother and father, a would be burglar had made his approach. As Gilles had reached the decrepit and crumbling wreck his mind wondered upon what he might bring. There would undoubtedly be a cross, maybe even a few devotional drawings, but no peasant would accept their existence as proof of her non-witch status. These were standard items. He would have to consider carefully anything he chose to bring. The door still ajar, and the place deserted even by her parents who had gone to witness the mob justice, entering the Closnot household would be child’s play.

Alderic shook is head as poor Marianne gasped her confession. He understood why she had done it, but it filled him with bitterness that she was giving the mob the satisfaction they were drooling over. If she were willing to accept her no-doubt unjust fate so quickly and meekly, perhaps he could give her one last chance at escape, if only he could find the Monsignor Dallexrand before he was pulled down by the mob to take confession.

Swift as a shadow Alderic darted into the church to find the man. It was common knowledge (common at least to him) that a witch could not utter the entirety of the Lord’s Prayer without gagging and spitting on the words. Perhaps the Monsignor could be persuaded to conduct one last test, one which would be more official than whatever this dubious woman Mme. Leauxtreaux had supposedly seen.

Shaking her head, still balling her slim fists, Beauséjour could help herself. She strode towards the crowd, her heart racing and dress fluttering.

"Stop! Arrêt! Do not do that which you will regret!" she shouted at the noose-wielding serfs as she approached them. "Who, when being drowned so, would not admit to -- to whatever charge you level?! This woman will say anything to keep her head from the water!"

Marching right up to where the exhausted, gasping woman was still being restrained, she added, "You know it is true! Think on your own souls, and your own judgements. Are you so sure of her witchcraft that you'd risk murdering an innocent Christian who is so desperate for even a few minutes more of life that she will admit to the worse crimes you can all imagine?"

"What proof is there," the dark-haired woman continued, "of her guilt?"

Inside the house was little. A few scraps of food on the table and a pitiful looking fire. Delving deeper within, behind a modesty curtain in an alcove, Gilles found what he assumed was Marianne’s corner. Beneath the rags and the debris, under old musty clothes he found a leather bound book of profane drawings, a pentagram, and the eyes of what he assumed were some kind of human.

I saw her. She has cast spells over the men, she was a dairy hand at Old Renaud’s holding when it was found to be laid waste by a withering sickness. All this and more. She bears the devil’s mark! Mme. Leauxtreaux screeched over a silent crowd. Approaching the girl, she violently raised the hem of her skirt to reveal a large brown birthmark above the knee of Marianne’s leg. What further proof is needed?. The crowd, stunned by this revelation began to murmur in agreement.

"Mon dieu," Gilles utters under his breath. "Looks like she actually is a witch.

He tucks the book under his tunic, intent on disposing of the it. He isn't sure why he's protecting a witch, but... considering the trouble everyone has had since the war, Gilles can't bring himself to fault someone for trying to survive... by whatever means necessary.

Gilles will take a few more moments to paw around, looking for anything of value, but then -- whether he finds something or not -- he slinks back to the mob, standing in the back as if he had never left.

Raddieux shakes off Farfule and follows Magdalena. When she hears the testimony, she knows its a lost cause. Such words are damning.

"Give her the night, to fear her punishment with the sun. To prepare her soul for the fires of hell. Let us all pray for her evil to be lifted."

Much mischief occurs at night, and Raddieux's brain is churning with ideas.

Silly woman! Farfule thinks as Raddieux stupidly shakes him off. One day that foolishness will put an end to the fiery elf's life. As fond as he was of her, life would go on just fine without her.

The woman in the water had stupidly admitted to her crime of being a witch and would now take her punishment, not that he had anything against witches. It was the getting caught part that got stuck in his craw. Being a practical man he rarely allowed emotion to cloud his judgment. True he would miss the pretty Raddieux's companionship and her help in their nefarious endeavors should she be attacked and killed by the frenzied mob but such was life in this miserable place.

Ah, and there goes Magdalena too rushing into the fray. Such foolishness!

Shaking his head, Farfule gripped his rapier in case the bloodthirsty crowd got out of hand. He thought about making a hasty exit but with the mob focused on the water, who knew what opportunities would come knocking? The thought also occurred to him that with Mme. Leauxtreaux present, and actively calling for a hanging, he might pay a call to her empty abode and give it his own brand of justice.

Magadlena faltered when evidence was voiced -- and then shown -- to her. The young woman's heart raced harder. Has she just put herself at risk for this peasant she doesn't know? Thoughts of just turning and fleeing flitted through her mind, but then someone else was there, beside her. Raddieux the Fallen! The woman with the elven blood. Magdalena didn't know the other woman well, but was fascinated by her heritage. She nodded when the elven maid suggested waiting for darkness to mete out the witch's punishment, glad to not be the sole dissenter in the village.

The villagers began to turn with hot fury on the woman who had dared to interrupt their justice. One lone voice amongst them came forth, a small man dressed in black doublet and addressed them. This other woman, Madame, he offered a small bow to Raddieux, is quite correct. It is our duty as good Christians to offer the accused an opportunity of redemption. With this he crossed himself and the crowd followed suit. Let us take her to the church, there she can receive penance and absolution before she faces execution tomorrow. To the Monsignor. Allez!

Raddieux dips the slightest of curtseys (barely and shyly), and steps back. She says quietly to Magdalena, "Nights are long, come find me early" and then much longer, "Faith preserves!" and slips away back to Farfule.

Now, girl, you need to come up with a foolproof scheme to get her free, and there will be plenty of fools to fool.

"This is what I meant," Magdalena says quickly, latching onto thinking that is both supportive of keeping the accused alive for a short time, but also which isn't as inflammatory to the crowd. "Judge her tomorrow!"

When the elf whispers in her ear, the dark-haired witch falters a little, then nods subtly.

Minutes later, she is melting back away from the crowd, removing herself from the scene...

Gilles sidles up to Farfule casually. "That was unnecessarily risky, eh?" he chuckles to the other man as the women manage to extricate themselves from the mob's wrathful eye. "We should talk when this is done, I think. Found out something... interesting, mon ami." He grins a bit, and offers a half-hearted shrug.

Farfule didn't know Magdalena very well and thought her a fool to go against the crowd simply to save a single lost soul, and now with Raddieux by her side, they might both be lost to the mob. But then the man in the black doublet intervened. Farfule narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the man, for no one was ever entirely selfless. What emboldened him he wondered unless it was to win one or both of the women.

His cheeks flushed as he watched the scene unfold. He suddenly decided to enter the fray. His right hand was clenched in a fist, his other still gripping his rapier as he became overcome with an emotion that he was all too familiar with and one he had been fighting. He was jealous of Raddieux and this unknown man had caused the unwelcome feeling to raise its ugly head. But as luck would have it, he was saved from making a fool of himself as the women backed off and it became clear that the man was a priest of some kind.

As Gilles approached Farfule was glad for the diversion but he still kept his eyes on the women. "It was indeed, Gilles. Such silly creatures, these women risking their pretty little necks like that." When it was clear that the women were out of immediate danger he turned to the man.

"Something interesting, eh? Of course, I will hear of this shortly."

The cool darkness of the church interior was a welcome reprieve from the hot sun outside. As Alderics eyes adjusted to the holy gloom he tried to make out what he thought was the dim figure of the Monsignor further into the nave. It would perhaps have been more prudent to draw closer, for a more intimate conversation which stood less chance of being overheard, but he could hear the crowd grow louder as if moving with increasing speed towards the church. Assuming their imminent arrival, he said softly, but clearly:

Father, the crowd approaches with someone they claim to be a witch. That old hag Leauxtreaux claimed she saw a birthmark or some such rubbish. I am not one to suffer a witch, but surely a more theological judgement should be passed rather than relying on such superstitious drivel as a birthmark. I have heard tell from learned men that a witch cannot say the Our Father all the way through without choking on the words. Perhaps a final test would be in order? If not, or should she fail, perhaps you could persuade the family that a generous graveside donation to a trustworthy individual *cough* might help to prevent her gravesite from being disturbed by those seeking vengeance? You would of course be given a finders fee, all in the name of God of course...

Alderic licked his lips hesitantly as he waited for the crowds arrival. He would not ordinarily be so forward with a man like the Monsignor, but at times a little risk might be worth the reward, especially when the greed of others could be played upon.

The Monsignor was an old man, who enjoyed more than a small glass of wine with his vespers prayers. Perhaps his mass was so great that he could drown the host of Christ himself in the blood of that sacrament. However, at this time, the drink had not sullied his senses. He had listened patiently to the concerns of the young knowledgeable man and muttered in reply.

True enough young man. It is said that evil cannot bear the words of Light and so by this, and others may we test the girl. As for now, you may assist me if you please to do so.

With a beckoning finger, the priest called Alderic to his side as they went out from the hallowed grounds of St. Etienne to speak with the crowd.

Raising hands in a gesture to end the crowds torment of the girl, her teeth chattering, her blue feet frozen in cold, and to hear his general proclamation. Good my flock. I know why you have come, you come with a case against this woman. You will his words, stern and commanding, pass her along to me. Here I shall keep her and question her further. You have done as you see right by our teachings and with the help of the Lord and His saints, I must now be allowed to do my work.

With a gesture aside to Alderic. Take this girl to our lower crypt and bind her. I will join you soon, after I have prayed.

Now good people, to your work and to your farms!

After slipping away from the brutish crowd, it does not take Magdalena long to find Raddieux -- and the two men who now accompany her.

Raddieux leads Farfule away from prying ears, along with Gilles. She watches Magdalena, willing the woman to join them. Sitting in the wall around the commons well, quiet for the moment as others join the harranging, it's an obvious, unsuspicious place for people to meet.

"I've bought us some time to decide. I've no wish to aid a witches mischief, but I've no trust she is malevolent either, just because these oafs saw a duck squawk at her."

Gilles looks around, making full well no one else is nearby. "I snuck into her home, truly hoping to find something to set her free. Instead..."

Giving another look to make sure the mob wasn't anywhere near them, he retrieves the book from under his tunic. He quickly shows them the profane imagery drawn within.

"Times, they are tough, non? I am hesitant to criticize anyone for doing what they thought they must in order to survive, but this..." he returns the book to its hiding place and rubs the back of his neck, "this, you understand, I am very conflicted about. I even considered someone may have put it there to condemn her, but that seems... well, it seems like a lot of work that isn't needed. She likely won't see the midday sun tomorrow."

Alone in the crypt of St Etienne, within the dust ridden and filthy air of this sleeping realm of the dead, Marianne made her appeal to her captor. She thought perhaps he had a kind face and would not appear so zealous as the others.

Please help me monsieur. she gasped in a terrified whisper. Her eyes darted back and forth across the resting dead and she knew she had no desire to belong to them. I am no witch. Please. I did nothing. Tears began to well in her eyes as she pleaded. They want to hurt me. They want to kill me. It is only a mark, see. with this she lifted her leg to Alderic and framed it between her desperate fingers.

I don’t want to die. she sobbed hard.

"Yes, clever woman you have bought us time but for what exactly? Farfule tilts his head toward raddieux. "Will you see this through? Your desire to save a woman you do not know is unusually selfless eh? With the new information that Gilles has uncovered, perhaps the woman is an unsavory character after all. You too Magdalena? Should we rescue this nobody?"


Farfule looks down into the well, his mind churning.

"What exactly was in this book, Gilles? Spells? Drawings? Recipes perhaps? Is that what you meant when you said you had found something interesting earlier? Perhaps your theory that it was planted is correct. Maybe a jealous lover was getting his revenge and the woman is innocent after all. But surely we can all take a look at it?"

"Mon ami, I showed the drawings but I am... hesitant... to go page by page out in the open like this," Gilles says, patting his abdomen. "But yes, it was what I was referencing. I just don't want to start a second witch hunt today, eh?"

It was curious to Alderic why the Monsignor had insisted that Marianne be brought to the crypt below the church. Surely the test would have been better given in front of witnesses, thereby proving the accusation or refuting it and removing all doubt. This reservation followed him down into the squalid stone room, leaving a taste as bad as the mouldering dust in his mouth.

Mademoiselle, frankly I do not care if you are a witch or not. I’m not sure I even believe in such things, for after all if you were, surely you would have used your magic to escape.
I only sought to have the Monsignor give you a test which would, perhaps, give you a fairer chance in front of the crowd. But now I fear that since this business is to be conducted in secret you will not be welcome in this village regardless of the outcome. So I offer you one last chance at escape, if you will stay quiet and trust me.

With that, Alderic moved to bind Marianne’s hands loosely, enough to give the appearance of being held fast, yet in a way which would be easily pulled away from. He then made sure the langmesser was loosened in its sheath and awaited the Monsignor’s arrival. Whatever was going to happen down here, if it turned sour he would be ready to knock the foul priest over the head.

Oh monsieur. Marianne wept and kissed Alderic’s hands and feet, her soaked hair laying heavy upon her. You will help me? I am in your debt for my life. She cried, choking on tears of happiness. I have no money but whatever you wish shall be yours. You only need ask. obediently she allowed herself to be bound. This is no cruel joke? Please monsieur, with all my heart. Tell me your name so I may know my valiant savior?

I suppose it’s never a bad thing to have a ‘witch’ owe you a favor he laughed wryly. My name is Eríc, mademoiselle, and you owe me nothing.

True names held power, or so the old fairy tales said. While Alderic doubted she was truly a witch and could therefore not use his name in sinister rituals to bind him, there was also no reason to tell her his real name. What she did not know, she could not tell others later.

Magdalena’s eyes lit when she glimpsed the book.

"Let me see that!" the lean, dark-haired woman said quietly, her voice hushed but full of urgency. "Where did you find it, exactly?" she pressed, but when Gilles resisted handing it over, she nodded. "Let us find a private place, then, to look more carefully at this evidence..."

This is getting out of hand.

"First, let's decide. If this book proves her to be what she's accused of, do we still let her burn? I have known that girl, most of the people here, all my life. I can't say that I care much if she's interested in a little late night dabbling. But if she's channeling dark powers and harming folks around us, then that's something else. What say you all?"

Gilles nods, and becons for the others to follow as he starts to move away from the well. Making his way to a barn on the outskirts of town, Gilles crawls up into the hay loft where he's been squatting.

Once the group is settled in, he takes the book out for a proper review.

"I guess now, we find out just what she was really up to."

In the church after some seemingly long time, the Monsignor stepped carefully down the dusty steps of the crypt. Even by the low light of this room, his cheeks looked flushed as took the last three steps very cautiously. Thumbing through his bible and stepping toward Alderic and Marianne, he chuckled. Well now, haven’t we been naughty? Alderic could smell the powerful stench of sour wine on the Monsignor’s breath as he lurched forward to grab Marianne by the chin, safe in the knowledge she was tied up. Turning to Alderic, he said You have done well in this my son. The church never forgets her children. I would give this heretic her last confession so if you wouldn’t mind… The priest gestured toward the stairs of the crypt. In an outstretched hand he presented to Alderic three silver livres. You have done well, and worry not. After all, our Lord only gained thirty.

[…]

At the barn the group huddled around the leather bound time. Once opened they saw images of foul heresy, demons, and images of such profanation that the pages themselves oozed with scandal and darkness. It was clear, this was a foul book of dark magic indeed. One dog eared page showed Marianne’s intent: she was trying to poison and disease en masse. Whilst some was in Latin, and other sections in Greek, the ancient tongues of dark magic eluded most. Not only was she a witch but it would appear one versed in the darkest of magics.

Gilles sits back and sighs."I almost feel like we should go to the church and try to finish her, before she has a chance to regroup. If she truly has any magic at all... the Monsignor may be in peril."

"Oh! This is indeed foul!" Farfule leans his head this way and that as he looks over Gilles shoulder while the man thumbs through the pages. Farfule's eyes grow wider by the minute as each new page reveals a horror worse than the last. Farfule is no innocent but compared to some of these depictions he is an absolute saint.

"The devil is at play here and in league with the woman that some of you thought to save! Have you learned a lesson now? You agree she is not be saved then?"

It was clear now what the lecherous priest intended and Alderic would have no part of it. He had seen too much of this kind of behavior in the war and it sickened him. He took the coins though. Silver carried no sins, and a man still needed to eat.

I thank you for your kindness Father. Je me souviens.

He turned as if to leave, but kept his eyes on the Monsignor, waiting for him to turn his back. As soon as he did so, Alderic pulled his langmesser from its scabbard and struck the stinking fool on the back of the head with the pommel, attempting to knock him unconscious.

Raddieux sees more than most, and her elvish blood gives her access to the simplest of incantations. She uses Read Magic to discern the truth of these dark magics, although her soul shudders to expose herself so.

The Monsignor hit the floor with a heavy thud and Marianne could barely contain her glee. A moment earlier she had been convinced that Alderic would abandon her, now her flight seemed secure. O! Eric. You did it. You hit the old drunk hard though. Will he be ok do you think? Marianne loosened her binds and made for the stairs. Quickly. Monsignor has a horse which he keeps outside of the church in th graveyard garden. If we move quickly, we will make it and we can flee before the curate spots us.

[…]

Raddieux’s probe of magical knowledge reveals great dark power in this incantation. The slaughter of beasts and men is but the first step to call upon the Devil himself. This instruction promises the would be witch an audience and the performance of one boon from the Dark One for such service.

Marianne was overeager to escape. He supposed he would feel the same if the roles were reversed, but it was not safe for either of them to leave now. Alderic put his arm in front of the doorway, stopping Marianne. It seems that the Monsignor liked to make his confessions last...I do not think anyone will be looking for us for quite some time. It would be better to wait here until it is dark and then make good your escape. If you leave now you are likely to be spotted and all of this will have been for nothing.

Besides, Alderic thought to himself, he had already assaulted a priest. He may as well take what coin and goods he could find in the tithe box and in the sacristy. Once it began to get dark he would go up with Marianne and take what he could. He would blame the woman for what was missing and no one would be the wiser.

"This is true magic, and darker than I'd believe capable in this small town. She dies tomorrow, but where did she learn this?"

Raddieux wonders how this came to pass, that the woman learned so much evil. "Perhaps she learned it from the devil herself."

No monsieur. We must leave or you may stay but I will go. I must away to my aunt. I will not stay here to die.

Marianne began to make her way up the stairs, her feet slapping across the cold stone floors.

It is, of course, your choice. I will stay here, but tell me, where is your aunts house? And might I come to stay there if things do not go well for me here?

Alderic quickly rustled through the Monsignors robes, trying to find any keys which might unlock a tithe box or some such thing before following Marianne up the stairs. Waiting for her reply he began to scan the sanctuary looking for where coin or valuables might be stored.

Clermont. She lives in Clermont. If you choose to visit, I may reward you. Marianne had a mischievous look but bolted quickly.

Marianne made quickly for the back of the church and quickly left the sight. Though Alderic unfortunately found nothing inside, he heard the call of a horse and the soft gallop as it pounded on grass away. Alone in the church, the quiet austere surface of the stone statues and painted glass was interrupted only by a sudden discharge of the organ. A man, in a black doublet had staggered in. A mortal wound across his chest, he breathed his last on the floor of hallowed St Etienne.

"Are we certain it safe to wait till morning?" Gilles leans back on his hands, and would be looking at the roof if his eyes weren't closed. "The Monsignor is by himself, is he not? If this magic is as dark as you suggest..." His voice trails off, but the implication is clear. The Monsignor may not survive the night if this witch brings dark magic to bear... and then, there is no telling how anyone in the village may fare.

"I suppose there is no reason we can't leave town now, before things truly take a turn. New beginnings are full of oppertunity."

"You better be wrong, Raddiex. But it could be that small towns are exactly the best place for the devil to begin his work."

Farfule hoped that he was wrong too as he felt his spine tingle with dread.

"Perhaps not, Gilles. I have no love for the priest. We could leave now," he suggests, looking at the others.

Merde Alderic hissed. Nothing was ever simple was it? That organ blast was sure to have been heard outside of the church and he now had no choice but to make a hasty exit.

Still, curiosity got the best of him and he slipped quickly, quietly over to where the man in the black doublet had fallen. Who had killed him? Why? He rifled through the mans doublet and pockets, searching for any clue as to who the man was. He took everything he could find, not waiting to see what it was, before leaving the church the way Marianne had gone, out into the graveyard. He needed to find a public place, full of people. People who would later be easily convinced that they had seen him there for a long time. With that in mind, he made his way into the center of town.

The blast of organ discord sounded throughout the hallowed walls of St Etienne. Finding nothing on the body of the man and observing only the animal like wounds across his chest, Alderic quickly made his escape. Across the hill into the fields of Brioude, the same organ call softly rang in the air. A few heads of nearby labourers perked up and a few muttered to themselves but nobody came to the grounds of St Etienne in that moment. As far as the frightened peasants were concerned the Monsignor and the church had the heretic witch imprisoned and the morning’s ordeal was resolved. Tomorrow the hanging would be a sight for the whole village.

It would now be up to Raddieux, Gilles, Farfule, and Magdalena to decide what they would do with the information before them.

"Leave now? Oh, I don't know. I suppose if the magic has been released then who could stand against it?"

She paces back and forth. "We need to talk to the girl. Find out what she's done, or if she had only been planning."

"I dunno," Gilles counters, "I feel like letting her know we know the truth is a remarkably bad idea. I spend enough time avoiding people, I don't want to need to avoid the Devil himself too, chere."

"What makes you think she will tell us anything, Raddieux?" This wasn't exactly how Farfule had expected his day to go. "I'm with you Gilles. I don't like the idea either."

She stares at the two men, wondering if it is wisdom or cowardice that compels them. Could be both, could be both.

"Why run if she has not done anything yet? For if we run, do we not also look complicit? Consider, a wise woman who spoke to her would do so with care and coax the truth, rather than threaten her. Appear as a possible ally, and cajole her secrets. If the results are uncertain, then we're no worse off."

"I would rather look complicit in another town, chere," Gilles says with a wry grin. "You say we're no worse off, but I cannot agree. Her attention is not something I want... especially if her witchcraft is real."

Magdalena’s eyes widened as Raddieux read the dark spell contained in the book. It was not difficult to tell that the thing contained infernal phrasings and diabolical diagrams, but the elf clearly saw more. She saw that this book held power, and was truly dangerous. Saying nothing as the others argued and debated, the slender, wild-haired woman took the tome and turned away with it… so she could better understand exactly what casting the spell would do. Turning the pages, her fingers traced the ink as her eyes drank in each passage and illustration.

Then she interrupted the other three.

"Could this have been planted in her home? By someone with a grievance against her? I do think a quiet word with her will tell us much."

"Oui, as I said I had considered that, but... it seems like a great deal of work that is ultimately unnecessary. No one knew of this book when she was being drowned," Gilles points out. "And it was not out in plain sight where it would be found. It was truly buried within her belongings."

Still sitting, he looks to Farfule and shrugs before continuing. "You women are so eager to draw the attention of the Devil, I will not stop you. But I will not go with you, and you will not take the book to her. Let me know what you find out, though... I would caution you to be careful, but why would you start now, eh?" He chuckles at his chide, but it isn't carried in his eyes. The worry in them is obvious.

Farfule looks at Magdelena curiously."A quiet word could turn into an opportunity for her to work her devilry skills on us. Is it worth it for us to take such chances? I think not! And you Raddieux. Coax the truth? Such naivete from you both. I stand firmly with Gilles on this. I understand that you women would like to stand together on this but there comes a time when you must put your lives to the fore. Leave the witch be I say."

Farfule rubs his knuckles subconsciously as he struggles with his thoughts. He would rather not see Raddiuex, his companion in their successful nefarious schemes go willingly to her death or worse, become a servant of the devil himself.

Having made his way back to the village in a circuitous, unobtrusive manner, Alderic finally emerged in the central commons. No sooner had he done so than he spotted the four people who had caused the commotion in the mob. It was curious to him that the same four people should now be gathered around the well. Perhaps they had known Marianne?

Whatever the reason for their being there, Alderic still wanted an alibi for where he had been after coming from the church and people who could verify having seen him in public. With this in mind he approached. Bonjour mon amis! I saw you all earlier during the…incident, did I not? Did you know the poor girl? You seemed more…involved, than the rest. I’m Alderic by the way. I’m sure you must have seen me around before. Pleasure to make your acquaintances

Raddieux is about to give Farfule a proper tongue lashing when Alderic appears.

"Alderic, bonjour. I am Raddieux. This is Magdalena, Gilles, and that one is Farfule." She nearly spits the last word out, but her oldest friend knows that is just her temper which often comes when she knows she may be in the wrong. Being wrong does not suit her temperment.

"I saw you, at the church. The witch, she is being treated well? She must make her peace with God, before the morning's gallows." She watches the man, her curiosity stirred.

As well as can be expected he shrugged. She is being held in the crypt below the church. If you wanted, I could take you there. I tied her binds myself and can assure you she is perfectly harmless. It would be no problem at all. I left her with the Monsignor.

He knew the witch was no longer there but someone besides him needed to know about the murdered man who still lay on the stone floor of the church. The animal-like wounds were troubling and given the witch-terror already gripping the village, Alderic did not want to be the sole person providing yet more bad news

Beauséjour merely nods at St. George, wanting to go to the abbey.

It was only moments before that she was scolding both Cayn and Farfule. "Do you know how many innocent girls have drowned, hanged, been burned because they refused some lord's gropings? How many women slaughtered by the church because they could not know their place or hold their tongue?! Let us find out for ourselves the story of this book, and whether this girl knows anything of it!"

"As I said, if you insist on getting the attention of the Devil himself, I will not stop you... but I will not go, and you will not take her the book." Gilles stands, brushing hay off his trousers and tucking the book back under his tunic. "And do not mention me, chere. The less my name is spoken, the better."

With respect monsiour, if you believe so strongly in the power of the devil surely you must believe even more strongly in the power of God Almighty? Therefore, what safer place for you than the house of God itself, with a holy man of God inside? Please, come with us. If your courage fails you once we arrive then wait outside the doors. But bring the book—the Monsignor may have need of it.

Raddieux seems suspicious. "But sir, why would the Monsignor need this book? They have already deemed her guilty, no further evidence is required. Is he a practioner of the dark arts, to be able to use or understand a witches tools? If that is the case, then it does not seem that the house of God is very safe at all!"

Alderic shrugs and grins in what he hopes is a friendly manner. I only thought that he might be able to destroy it or lock it away where it can hurt no one. God defeats the devil, mais non? It frankly seems odd to me that your friend wishes to keep it for himself. But I am not your master so if course, do as you wish.

"I will not repeat myself. The answer is no. I have no intention of going to the church, nor am I letting anyone take the book. This is not a difficult concept, why must you all struggle with it so?" Gilles' tone conveys his unwillingness to be swayed. "Insinuate what you will, but I'll not have this book anywhere near that woman, and that is final."

Alderic shrugged again. You of course may do as you wish but I do not intend to sit around here discussing it with you all day. If anyone wishes to see the church I will take you there. If not, I will return home. The hour grows later.

He turned to leave, not bothering to see if anyone followed. Whoever or whatever had murdered the man in the black doublet might be back to hide the body and Alderic wanted to be there to see who, or what, it was.

Raddieux looks at Magdalena, sensing her distrust of this man. Farfule she doesn't know what he'll do on the best of day, which is why he's a fun friend. Gilles has made his position clear.

"I'll going with you, Alderic. I want to see for myself."

Magdalena nods as well. "I too will accompany you, so we may see for ourselves," she says while regarding Gilles coolly. her voice lowers.

"And do not misplace that book, sir. It's dangerous in the wrong hands, but also may offer some key as to what may be about to transpire here."

"Wouldn't dream of misplacing it," he assures Magdalena. "After all, I need to know where it is so that I can be sure she doesn't get it back. Be careful though, eh? No telling what you're walking into."

Farfule sighs loudly. He has been beaten down by these women and will acquiesce. He doesn't have the energy to continue pressing his point. Besides, when it really comes down to it, he will not let Radiuex willingly seek danger without him.

"I will accompany you, women. Lead on Alderic. Gilles suit yourself I suppose. Let us hope that God will look upon us benevolently when we are in his house."

In the coolness of the moment, a plan secured, a raspy voice of malevolence crept from the recesses of Gilles’ tunic. It was a voice of dread and hopelessness. It’s chilling words and chuckle froze the air but the phrase it uttered was simple enough.

Marianne. Is that you?

"Mon dieu!"

A touch of panic setting in as he realizes the truth. "The book, it spoke!" Gilles will immediately retrieve the tome from his tunic and then rush to grab a lantern, dumping the oil out onto the book and setting it ablaze.

Raddieux is entirely unprepared for Gilles' outburst and then the book is on fire. "What?" is all she can squeak as she watches the only clue catch in the flame. "Is this the right thing to do?"

A ghostly visage with penetrating gaze emerged from the burning book on the rear cover. It chuckled with great relish and malevolence. I was formed in flames far hotter than these little mortal!Its voice was penetrating and both loud and whispered at the same time. Slowly the flames sputtered out and the leather of the book’s cover showed no trace of damage from the fires.

I thought he felt the presence of that little harlot. She ought to be here by now, her neck twisted and broken. No matter. But I do certainly sense the presence of the gift in another amongst you. I have secrets little one, and mysteries. The insidious voice teased perversely and diabolically.

How did you find me? Speak!

Alderics’ face drained of color as the book spoke. So the woman really had been a witch! He only hoped that she would remember what he had done for her if their paths ever crossed again. And if the book were to be believed there was yet another witch right here!

A single witch was one thing. But two? It began to occur to Alderic that if he befriended them that perhaps they would help him to seek revenge against the blackguards who had taken his family land and farm. Perhaps even those wastrel nobles who had taxed him to oblivion themselves…

He stayed quiet for now, waiting to see which of these strange new people spoke, and if this new witch would reveal themselves in the process...

At first, Farfule is frozen in place, his dark eyes wide orbs of surprise as he hears a voice come from Gilles which is definitely not Gille's voice. But when the man starts to burn the infernal book he tries to interject, "No, wait!" he cries. Too late, yet not as it doesn't burn and he listens to what the talking book has to say, almost not believing what is happening yet he hears the voice and so do the others.

A witch among them? Surely not. He frowns and looks at Radieux.

No, it can't be her or he would have seen hints of it by now with all the shenanigans they'd gotten up to in the past. Was it Magdalena? He assesses her in light of this new and dark information. And Alderic, his face the color of bread dough.

Come on then. Out with it. Who here is a witch? Farfule refused to address the book itself.

She doesn't know anything else about the others, but Raddieux gulps at the the accusation from the spirit, and how closely it fits her own history. All her life she's been accused of that and worse. "It's me, but I'm not a witch, I'm not!"

Fishing around in an inner pocket, Gilles mutters to himself, "Never knew why I hung onto this, but now is as good a time as any."

He pulls the stopper on the small flask and dumps the contents onto the book while reciting The Lord's Prayer, hoping the Holy Water will dispell whatever foul entity is before them.

Magdalena's eyes go wide when the book speaks from beneath Gilles's garb. Then, before she can react, the book is on the ground and it's aflame. "No!" she shouts at the man as Raddieux voices her own concern more quietly.

"You might release the--"

The woman falls back a step as the flames flicker out, and as the presence looms over them, speaks to them in the way that it does. Her heart races as there is discussion over who among them might be a witch, and the woman swings her shawl off her shoulders, preparing to gather up the book in it -- to cover it, smother it, and hopefully blind the infernal power that inhabits it!

"I told you the book could be dangerous!" she cries lowly, trying to keep her voice down. "And nothing everything is as it might seem!"

Magdalena caught the full torrent of holy water as she bounded to the floor. Covering and acquiring the book in her shawl and holding it close in her crouched position, she was the first to notice the strange events. The small room seemed that much darker, the air froze and the breaths of all could be seen through their terrified panting. Terrible and dread, the voice continued. First in a contemptible mocking laugh.

Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Eltheto he basileia sou. The voice’s mocking sing-song parody was cut short only by its own laughter. As the cackles that echoed fell still a more malevolent tone came forth.

I asked where you found me. Now speak! Or I will claim you all.

"Damn, I paid good money for that," Gilles hisses at Magdalena when she covers the tome.

Turning his attention to the being before them, he answers. "When Marianne was being tortured for a confession, I went looking for something that might have cleared her name. Instead," the contempt in his voice is obvious, "I found you. Well, specifically the book."

He narrows his eyes. "I had hoped she was falsely accused. It seems I was mistaken."

Still crouching with the covered book, but now with eyes wide and filled with terror, Magdalena Slowly stands as she waits to see what the reaction to Cayn's words will be...

Farfule feels the sudden cold as he watches the unbelievable scene unfolding before his eyes. Drawing his rapier at the sound of the voice, because surely there is a malevolent body somewhere behind it, he searches for the source.

"She warned us about the book, Gilles. She knows something. Perhaps things are not what we presumed them to be and neither is she."

Farfule continues searching, squinting his eyes against the dark. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Raddieux knows better than to obey an evil spirit, opening the door to suggestion and possession. She folds her arms and remains silent. As the others talk she wonders if this will be a fight, and if so, will it be one they have a hope of surviving.

This was getting too real. Witches were things that mothers told scary stories about to their children to get them to behave. Not dangerous real people with demons hidden in books! Alderic did not know what good it would do him, but he drew his langmesser, unwilling to die without a fight.

Since Magdalena seemed to know more about the book than anyone else in the room he asked Do you know how to control it? How to silence it?!

The voice of the book, quiet and content answered Farfule. I am known by many names mortal by many peoples over many centuries. You may call me Sehk. There was a pause. Momentarily. I will answer your second question when you tell me each of your names.

This gave Farfule pause. Names were powerful in the hands of evil and thus he was presented with a quandary. Taking a deep and hopefully not too obvious breath he lied. Not entirely because he used just his middle name with a few extra vowels added.

"Armeande. That's me, Sehk."

Beauséjour glances at Alderic and shakes her head briefly and subtly; no.

"There is power in names," Magdalena says, straightening up further to face the demon, Sehk. The woman knows that is undoubtedly not his True Name, but she also understands the danger they are all in. "Why would we share ours with you?"

What do you offer? her dark eyes ask, while she doesn’t.

To give me your names is a sign of your trustworthiness. Some of you have shown that trust, others less so. Sehk’s voice was cold and calm with an almost soothing tone in reply to Magdalena.

You can share with me in my plan and for that I will offer you two rewards. The first is that I know secret things, secret places, and secret knowledge. If you do as I bid, some of these secrets will be shared. The second reward is there for your own benefit. Five fates can be avoided. Beast, fire, darkness, hopelessness, and condemnation. I can lift these for you or bring them faster. I hope that is clear?

The air grew slightly warmer and the darkness eased.

I will put things simply for you. My task is a simple one. Finish what you have seen begin. I have a claim on Marianne. You will kill her, though this must be no ordinary death. Through interference and her own conniving, she has lived to see a new sun rise. She must see the full terror of your abilities. I have a debt to claim and you will be my debt collectors.

These are my terms.

So much opportunity lay behind this entity. Whether or not it was lying Alderic had no way of knowing. But the lure of secret places drew him like a moth to flame.
I know where she went. He looked around at the group, trying to judge their expressions. She went to stay with her aunt in a nearby town.

Bound to do the devil's work. This is what has lead her here. All her life, they told her she was walking the line between good and evil. That her ancestry was that of the faerie kind, the others.

"Why her? Was she innocent and lead down this path? You tricked her, didn't you, Shek."

Looking around to see if anyone was witnessing this, or hearing this, Magdalena stood fast but did not answer the devil yea or nay. She well knows what it means to make pacts with such beings. She quirks an eyebrow when Raddieux asks her question, and as Alderic suddenly offers up Marianne's location.

Farfule did not trust Sehk, not even a tiny bit.

"The first reward you speak of. The secrets. You don't say whether these secrets are advantageous to us or not. I suppose it is inherent in the idea of a reward but may we know a little more about these so we can make a fully informed decision?"

He was also buying time ... for what he wasn't sure but it felt like a good idea. He glanced at Alderic through narrowed eyes. How easily he gave her up, he thinks. He notes Magdalena's silence and then he waits for an answer to his question and Raddieux's.

Trick her? Sehk sounded almost genuinely shocked. There was no need to trick her or any one. I merely allowed her to bid for her strengths as she saw fit.

As to the secrets I can offer. I can answer your questions, your darkest fears, opportunities beyond your wildest imagination, or even nobler reasons. As you please. Do I take it that you are intrigued by my opportunity?

Raddieux had paid for these crimes with a lifetime of mistreatment. Who could blame her for being tempted to accept the rewards, too?

"Intrigued, yes. Of course we are. We are no fools to believe that there wouldn't be a cost. A cost such as, say, arranging for us to be arrested and burned at the stake or hung by the neck!"

Alderic had given years of service for his King and Country and all for what? To be reduced to abject poverty. To his land and home being stolen by the same blackhearts who had shoved a pike in his hands; to the earth there being tilled by new hands. To now tilling a different kind of freshly turned earth, seeking rewards below. What could one man alone do to change these miserable circumstances? Perhaps nothing. But perhaps he only needed some help…

I am of the same mind as Raddieux here. You offer great rewards for helping you, and I would be lying if I said I was not interested. But you say nothing of consequences. What assurance can you give us that you would not simply burn us to death with hellfire, or have us hanged, as soon as you have what you want?

"To be sure, an important detail to omit. I am of the same mind as my compatriots here. We require some kind of assurance. Something tangible perhaps. Maybe something very valuable to you that you would place in our care."

Farfule looks at the others and then back at Sehk.

"And what exactly are these nobler reasons you speak of?"

Trucking with the diabolical was a dangerous business, Magdalena knew. To do so without some means of leverage or assurance was folly. Folly that ended in flames, at the end of a rope, or in some fate that was far, far worse. But if the right protections and charms were in place, if the proper demonological thaumaturgy were to be employed... well, that would be a different matter. With a very different, and vastly preferable, outcome.

"We cannot dally here, musing over your murky offer. Asking what you mean, and what toll you will exact. If the townsfolk see or hear, that will be the end of us and you will have no agents to carry out your aims. So we will pursue this girl that you seek, and find out the truth. And if we determine her fate should be what you desire, we will speak again, and we will name our terms."

She glanced at the others, knowing she was speaking out of turn for at least one of them, but then continued despite whatever looks she was given.

"Do you accept, Sehk?"

Sehk was quiet for a moment. Perhaps the demon was thinking. If you do as I ask, there will be rewards. Money, women, what you might ask for. Nobler might be a stretch for mortals. However, you may seek knowledge and for that I have more than you can fathom. If, instead as your companion suggests, you would prefer to assign yourselves as judges over the girl and name your own price, I am happy to hear it when you return to me.

As a token, mortals still enjoy money don’t they? Well in a field by the end of the village nearest the crossroads, you will find a lamb from this year. There is a pouch of money, 100 Louis d’Or, in his guts. If you can stomach the slaughter, I give you this as a token. Regardless I will have your answer now. Be my agents and reap the rewards I offer or not and watch to your backs.

The offer was now more palatable, a tangible reward to be found inside a lamb which was a little odd in itself but was nevertheless welcome.

"Not being squeamish types, I'm sure harvesting the bag of coins will be no problem for me at least. Despite Magdalena's impertinence speaking for all of us, I will agree to what she has suggested and that is that we name our own price and be the judges of the girl's innocence."

Farfule looks to the others for their expected assent. Knowledge was power and that was also an attractive carrot that the devil had dangled if Sehk was true.

While secrets hidden in dark places and the possibility of gloomy ruins filled with riches fascinated Alderic, it was hard to beat the promise of cold hard coin in his hand.

He licked his lips nervously and nodded his assent to Farfule. It was clear there was more to these newfound acquaintances than met the eye, but he could understand their outwardly presented motivations, for they seemed to be his own.

Beauséjour nodded at the infernal being -- twice. Once when it described the goat that was sure to soon be slain and butchered, and once when the voice rumbled in her head.

"We should move quickly," she said to the others, wondering how Gilles was taking all this. "And not breathe a word of this to anyone."

Raddieux address the others fall into line and agrees. "Very well then. It's a bargain." She crosses her arms, knowing they've crossed a line and that cannot be undone.

She leaves the building, quietly looking around before heading to the well once more. They need to make a swift plan.

Gilles takes a few measured breaths.

"Non," he replies, eyes flashing cold.

"You say you would have our choice, but the only choice presented is to do as you say or suffer should we choose not to. You also demand our answer now, before we have any proof whatsoever you can do as you promise. All we have in this moment are honeyed words from a snake's tongue.

If you are as powerful as you portray, waiting for confirmation should not frighten you. Ultimatums are for the weak, and devils are known for their lies. A poor combination for you.

I am a slave to no man. I do not relish the notion of being a slave to a devil... but if I must, I want the assurances we spoke of. You will have my answer once we see if you are being truthful, foul one, and not a moment before. Do not think slaughtering lambs was lost on me."

Such honeyed kisses come from your lips sweet one. Sehk laughed. As the others of your little group of interventionists seem to be content, you may do as you please. When you need call on me again, simply speak my name into this book. As for now I have spoken enough. With that, the voice and face of the demon left.

After Sehk... leaves?... and Mags hides that infernal book, Gilles visibly deflates. After a moment, he offers a weak smile to the others.

"Well... that could have gone worse."

"It could have I suppose. I'm not sure I like this situation very much. The demon is not to be trusted. Giles, will you leave us then since the demon gave us little in the way of assurances?"

Farfule is thinking of the bag of coins and how one less among them means more coin for those remaining.

"Perhaps, mon ami, perhaps." Gilles shakes his head. "I may just follow you, to see what happens. I want nothing from the devil though. I'm not selling my soul for some coin."

It may be a vain hope, but perhaps the demon has no power while it is still bound within the book. It has only offered us knowledge of coin so far, rather than simply conjure it out of the air or burn us with hellfire.

I might not sell my soul for coin, but as hungry as I am I just might sell it for the bread which the coin will buy. Alderic gives a jokey wink, trying to mask the shivers he still feels moving through his muscles, before following Raddieux out of the barn. So many dangers. So many possibilities, all swimming through his head.

Removing her cloak, Magdalena wraps up the book in a kind of makeshift sack, which she holds at her side as the group talks.

"We should find Marianne, no? And get to the bottom of this. Decide then what to do." As they begin to walk, she adds, "I once knew a woman knowledgeable about such books, and such... entities. I am not ignorant on these matters -- I will better examine the book when we have quiet and privacy... to see if this devil is indeed bound to it."

I agree. I heard she went to stay with her sister in Clermont, not far from here. Perhaps we can have some roasted mutton from a certain sheep before we leave though…

"Yes indeed we can collect our bag of coins and have dinner all at once, eh?"

Farfule slaps Alderic on the back, relief that the demon is gone at least for now floods over him. Fear of unknown things is always unnerving and it was exhausting not showing his grave concern.

"We should waste no time examining the book in detail as well. There must be something that will help us better understand this demon."

"Undercover of night, we can accomplish both. The lamb and the maiden."

Magdalena is uncertain as of yet regarding the slaying of the sheep. But she nods, deciding to ponder the cost of the bloody coins in the intervening hours -- before the animal's throat and belly were slit at the behest of a being not one of them truly comprehends.

From outside the dimness of the building you hear the sounds of muttering villagers and clanking metal and wood. Evidently the morning’s excitement has worn off.

"How about we find this lamb, eh?" He could use the coin. One never had enough. And that dastardly book. Had he any idea his day would end up like this he would have run far away. Now he was stuck in the middle of who knows what.

"Make it quick. Merciful," Magdalena says. "And if something seems amiss, leave the animal. We are not bound to any fate just yet."

"Oui," Gilles agrees, glancing to Magdalena as he stands back slightly from the group. "Expect deceit. Watch for it."

"Should we meet at the ether of the village after sundown. Bloody work is best down when no one is watching." Raddieux has killed lambs before, for the dinner table. This seems different, and they will not want to save the meat -- despoiled by the demon as it will be.

"I find that I am bound for those coins, Magdalena." Farfule chuckled but he was serious. "But yes of course we will be mindful of the poor lamb's suffering."

"After sundown makes perfect sense Raddieux. Are we in agreement then? All of us? And Alderic will not share in the spoils by his own volition, oui?"

Scattering before they could be noticed, the collective got to hear of very peculiar tales indeed. The curate was missing, the Monsignor attacked viciously had remained in a coma, and chunks of torn flesh in the church grounds signified some very dark work. But the one thing, mistaken as it may be, that the villagers assumed as they spread their ever growing rumors, was that Marianne had been killed by some beast, the same thing that must have attacked the Monsignor. Nothing else could explain the remains they found in the grounds and her general absence.

Throughout the day you have heard of this beast as a boar, an escaped mountain cat, a bear, escalating still further until most villagers could swear they had seen the devil himself fly out of the spire of St. Etienne. This wasn’t true of course, but it served the villagers as well as any other reason.

As dusk fell, your gathering on the edge of village near the allotted field had gone unnoticed. Scouting the docile sheep, one lamb stood out. It was as black as the night and had a strange growth spawning from the middle of its head, a crude imitation of a horn. Coaxing over the unsuspecting creature was simple enough, but plunging a dagger took some resolve. Finally, its carcass torn and disembowelled, the soft clank of a leather fold containing the promised money from Sehk presented itself. This was no fortune by any means, but more than a profitable farmer could expect to see in months. Perhaps it could provide some comforts that would ease the burden of slaughtering the innocent. With the money now in your possession, it was now just a matter of how to proceed.

Alderic had to suppress a macabre chuckle and shudder as he heard the squawking villagers whispering their fears of a beast and the devil himself flying from St. Etienne. Today had proved to him that such things were in no way unrealistic. The horrible wound across the mans chest only lent credence to it as well, which was disturbing...

Whispering to his new comrades as he pocketed his share of the coins, Alderic says I think there may indeed be a violent beast about. Whether it be a beast in truth or simply a beastly man I do not know. But, since we are now equally beholden to one another, I feel that I should tell you I saw a murdered man when he stumbled into the church with a bestial slash across his chest, like an animal. I do not know what killed him, but it is my assumption that this disturbing tale was a cruel method of...disposing of the body and the evidence.

I think it would be best if we did not stay in town tonight. Surely we can make good time walking to the next village, or perhaps an inn along the road where no one will be familiar with us.

"It's wise to do so, yes Alderic. But tell us about this murdered man. and more importantly the man that killed him. Did you see him engaged in the act?"

This was something at least, Farfule decided as he fingered the coins in his pocket as he eagerly awaited the details.

He was fairly nondescript, other than that he was fairly well dressed in what used to be a nice black doublet, before someone or something tore an impressive gash into it. He stumbled into the church as I was leaving and died on the floor. Some damn fool rang the church bell before I could get a closer look. Although now that I think about it, perhaps what rang the bell really was the devil jumping from the tower...

Raddieux pockets her share of the evil-tainted coin. "That was gruesome business, but these are dark days. This beast around, one would wonder if this entity," she whispers, "the demon", before continuing, "would be our first suspect, no doubt. We have dark deeds to do tonight in the church, and then we can see if there are answers about the beastly attacker."

Do we dare risk a return? A priest in a coma, an escaped or dead witch and a murdered man are all sure to bring a magistrate, or even some church inquisition. No, for my part I think my blood runs too coldly to return there. Unless there is some pressing need.

Magdalena holds the weight of the bloody coins in her hand for a moment before tucking them into a pocket in her skirts. Her eyes are wide when she realizes this talk of a beast might be true, or there at least might be something to it. She says nothing; her sole intent this night is to fall back to somewhere safe and remote so she can spend time examining and going through the book...

"I actually agree," Gilles chimes in from his spot a bit away from the group. "I don't think going to the church is wise. We can leave in the morning. I'd rather use the deaths in the church as a reason to leave. We can wait until the town is in a panick, tell some others it isn't safe to stay, and make our escape. If we leave under the cover of night, it makes us suspects."

"Yes, yes but ... well ... shouldn't we look to the book for many of these answers? Farfule looks at Magdalena and nods. "We must also find a suitably safe place to do this because as Alderich says there are a number of unwelcome people that will be heading this way. I am with Giles on leaving but not in the dark of night. We would look very guilty indeed."

Farfule shudders at the thought that the bellringer was perhaps the devil himself jumping from the tower.

Perhaps a compromise then. Alderic looked back and forth between his new comrades. The tavern here in town will surely have a private room we can rent to discuss things over food. Then when the hour grows late we can open the book without prying eyes around.

At the bare mention of food Alderics stomach have a loud, gurgling groan, as if to emphasize the point.

Raddieux looks about at the others, and her eyes darken. "You bargained with that creature, agreed to do its bidding, accepted its coin, and now you seek to run? Oh, we all know that running should have come before we took those 100 Louis d'Ors from the belly of that lamb. No, we have a task, and the witch must die at our hands."

"Wherever we choose, let us do it now," Beauséjour says as she walks. "If I am to comprehend the forbidden knowledge and the infernal perils this book may contain, I will need quiet. And yes, food and drink would be good."

"We are going to spend our hard-earned coin on accommodations then?" He is loath to spend it but it was true, a bargain had been struck and it must be brought to its conclusion.

I had not thought to mention it before, since you may find it distasteful. But if free lodging away from prying eyes is all we need, I happen to know the perfect place. There is a large crypt which belongs to the De Fontreveaux family at the outskirts of the cemetery. It would house us all comfortably for the night. I can take us there. Allons-y!

Alderic did not wish to squander his hard earned coin so quickly after getting it either, and gave a nod to Farfule in agreement.