Best Boy

Vadran village is only a short ride (or even walk) beyond Alexandria's gates. The Adventurer's Guild posting (as well as word around the village and surroundings) requests interested parties travel here to meet a man named Karl for the task. The village, itself, is a quaint rural mini-community; small, yet with some perks at having a metropolitan area so nearby.

In such a place, everyone knows most everyone else who lives or frequents the village, so seeking Karl is not difficult in the slightest. The fact that the middle-aged, bearded human is somewhat bound to a rocking chair at this time also makes him a stationary target. His left leg is heavily bandaged from thigh to calf, though his other works well enough to rock the chair while he enjoys a pipe.

Work was work, and Zofija was looking for more jobs to do. It seemed like a simple enough job, which meant there was a large chance of things going sideways, especially knowing so little going into it.

Or, it could be as simple as finding a lost dog in a scary forest. The arvek-nar wandered to where they were ti meet the client, one hand on the reins of the griffon beside them. "Zofija, knight of the scales, good to meet you." She grunts. "We're here about the posting you made recently."

Crik hadn't taken an excursion outside the city for a while. Which was overdue. And had nothing to do with some trouble he may or may not be experiencing in the town. The endlessly cloak covered and cloaked egalrin corvid hopped around the village, but finding nothing of undue or interesting nature, he eventually trails over towards their named figure.

And then stands there and stares. He was resisting the urge to caw, like they do in the rural villages.

Menel stretches a bit leisurely as they approach the man on his porch. The longish walk seems to have put the pale-haired swordsman in a good mood and he offers a cheerful smile to Karl - assuming it is Karl - as they draw up to the man. "Good afternoon to you!"

Menel's chipper voice is light and full of good cheer, and he gives Zofija's griffon wide berth out of respect. Nodding to the creature and offering a similar greeting to his fellow adventurers who are here for the task of finding a lost dog. "We are indeed - here about the posting that is - so anything that you can tell us to help find what you're looking for would be helpful."

The man looks up as he's approached and spoken; a last puff of smoke exhaled before he takes the pipe out of his mouth. His face is weathered, his clothing worn and well-traveled, but it is his eyes that make him look the most worn: they are dimmed from weariness and loss.

"Thank ye. Me 'n my boy Gud..." His words pause and his eyes wet. "We were out huntin squirrels two day past. Ran up on a bear not meanin to. They's agitated with the season, matin an all. Got m'self mauled." He points to his leg with his pipe. "Woulda been worse if not fer Gud. He drove the bear off. But he could be tore up, too. I'd go out for him m'self... but ain no way I'd keep up."

He looks over those gathered again. "Would ya kindly find him? Even if..." he pauses again. "Just wanna know, ya know? Can tell ya where I last sees him."

"I think it's probably hard to talk about, so thanks for explaining it, Karl." Zofija grunts, stopping to pop one shoulder and roll it around. "Lucky you're okay, and we'll do what we can for your companion. If you could tell us where you saw them and what the bear was like, we'll see to this."

Crik bows his head slightly in a nod of acknowledgment of sorts. It was a jerky motion, like he was unsure. "What does the dog look like?" He asks with his deep, gravely voice. "Any identifying marks? Does he howl? ... bite?" The corvid then turns to look towards Menel, his weapon, then the griffon, then at the ground, then at Karl. At the ground. Back to Karl.

The smile fades from Menel's face, and he nods seriously. "We'll do what we can to locate him. Whatever the result. If you could give us a description of your companion and where he was left that would be very helpful." He knows that he is repeating others a bit, but sometimes in grief one doesn't always hear everything.

Karl puffs on his pipe again before motioning it north. "Take the road out the village 'n go north. Where the road turns east at the river, there's a path that fords the water there cause it's shallow. Was a game trail, now lots folks worn it down. Easy to spot. Follow that for maybe an hour. You'll know ye hit the Fel when things start gettin quiet. Bit further up the path are the Twisted Sisters; pair o' trees all gnarled up. Around there's where I last saw him. Guessin he went further in since I didn't see him this side of the Fel."

"He's a big ol' splotchy thing. Black 'n tan, like a mix o' shadow 'n sunlight. Floppin ears. Muzzle like he's got a smile..." Karl's head and eyes lower to watch the ground. "He was always grinnin... even when bein the most stubborn, hard-headed boy..."

Zofija takes some time to jot down the explanation on a sheet of parchment, which she rolls back up and stows away. "Don't give up hope just yet, we'll do what we can to find them." Zofija replies, hoisting herself back up on to the griffon. "Take care of yourself for now, make sure your leg has time to heal."

"You lot ready to go? We've got a small trek ahead of us, sooner we get there, the better." The arvek-nar grunts.

The swordsman nods and mentally memorizes the description and the directions. They can easily keep an eye out for a bear and try to avoid it. Menel reaches out and clasps the man on the shoulder gently. "We'll bring back what we can." He doesn't offer false hope, but he'll do his best and hope that the dog is still alive. He nods once then and starts on the path that will take him to the dog. Hopefully.

The path is easily visible off of the main road, as Karl noted, so even those not adept at pathfinding have little issue locating it. The water is only a foot deep at this point, as the bend of the river slows the waters and deposits material. Additionally, there are stones (either arrived or intentionally placed) that allow one to step across while remaining dry if desired.

Following the trail further in, Karl's description and directions continue to prove rather accurate; while there is no stark visual change nor markers, the ambient noises of insects, birds, and other small creatures in the undergrowth fades to nothing with some abruptness after an hour or so travel from the river. The sun is still overhead, though the shade of the forest mitigates the heat.. and makes for many mottled, light shadows all about.

A few more minutes of walking from that point and the path runs into a small clearing. The ground cover and trees seem to thin until they are almost non-existent in the vicinity. All save for two large trees, grayed with age and bleaching, and lacking any green. Corpses of trees, perhaps, with stubby limb-remnants that are twisted and gnarled. A branch from each, reaching towards the other, long ago wrapped themselves around each other to join the pair even to this day.

Zofija keeps a steady pace that the others can keep up with, eventually coming to a stop as they reach the landmark in question. "Reckon this is the twisted sisters, yeah? We should look for signs of things around here. If we're lucky, we'll find a trail. Already lucky there's no visible blood or anything yet, so we'll see if that holds up here. You'll have to fill in as lucky bird charm for this, Crik."

GAME: Crik rolls perception: (16)+11: 27
GAME: Menel rolls Survival: (9)+6: 15
GAME: Menel rolls Perception: (9)+1: 10
GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (17)+4: 21

Crik follows on, having fumbled with a layer of yet another cloak he was wearing. It seemed to match the surroundings though. "... black birds are usually not for luck." He ruffles his feathers though and starts poking around.

Eventually, he kneels by the base of one of the trees, holding a small trowel in hand. "There is a hole here." He points. "... pretty large hole."

There are definitive signs of a struggle. The ground to the right/east side of the clearing is marred and disturbed, and there is a conspicuous amount of dried blood spattered on the ground and what little grows nearby.

Menel once again finds his smile on the nature walk. Enjoying the weather and the ambiance. At least until the birds and insect activity drop off. Then wariness lines his shoulders and they eventually reach what is clearly the Twisted Sisters without any eventfulness. Menel keeps a weather eye out at this point, watching for bear signs as well as any other animal, which he quickly finds. "The dog and bear both moved to the north. The dog seems like it might be wounded, so we should move along."

He glances at Crik as he moves to that direction. "And I suggest being careful putting your face near odd holes in the Felwood. Dangerous occupation that."

"Well, perhaps I spoke a bit too soon." Zofija sighs, hopping off her mount and taking a look near where Crik found something. "Should we see if something's under that disturbed dirt? Didn't sign up for completely safe work after all."

GAME: Crik rolls perception: (19)+11: 30
GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (20)+4: 24

Unfortunately for Zofija, Crik has already taken to the task of unburying the hole. There was a lot of chaos in his work; but also a lot of precision, since he didn't seem to do any harm to what was lying underneath.

Tawny and black fur, with a bit of torn skin. Crik straightens and looks down at the hole. "... The body?" He asks, tilting his head.

Menel frowns at the body unearthed. "Bears don't bury their kills." He remarks. Which means the only person who could have done it is the farmer himself. "Nor does it explain the paw prints that lead north. We should take the body with us, and investigate further." He nods here to Zofija. "We didn't sign up for no danger as you said."

Zofija peers over Crik's shoulder, was likely unsettling for the egalrin. She did look like the judge-y type. "No, not a body." Zofija grunts. "At least, not much of a body. Could have tried to hide here and got dragged off. Lot of possible assumptions."

"So we better get moving now. Got an idea where to go from here." She adds while remounting the griffon. "Stick close. Might be more dangerous if any bear is injured."

GAME: Zofija rolls perception: (15)+4: 19
GAME: Menel rolls Perception: (2)+1: 3
GAME: Crik rolls perception: (10)+11: 21

The bear tracks are the easiest to follow, and the canine ones seem to follow them north. As the group moves beyond the clearing and through the trees, the sounds of forest life seem to return... at least in part. There is noisy chittering from nearby trees and tiny, darting movement from branch to branch. It is not dispersed and background, but seems very individual and distinct. It also keeps pace with them as they move.

The trail is not long and they only travel a few hundred yards before growling is heard and a large, furry form comes into view ahead. A fallen bear lies across the 'path' and a dog with matted light and dark fur is chomping at the carcass' neck, tail swaying. The tail is noted most as that is the end currently pointed at the group.

Crik takes something out of his endless layers of cloaks and then tosses it over the hole. With that done, he follows on after the others, heading up north. In no time at all though, he is looking up at the trees, holding his hands in front of him, and with his beak slightly agape in not-so-confident expression.

Oddly enough, the sight of the dog eating the carcass doesn't even phase him as much as what he was looking up at the trees. "Did we find the dog? I think we should leave soon. Squirrels are restless."

Menel doubts very much that the creature eating the bear is the dog. But anything willing to eat a bear like that is dangerous. He draws his sword from his left hip carefully and in preparation. "I do not know." His voice is a low murmur. "Gud?"

This is offered cautiously as he isn't certain he wants to draw the creature's attention or not. "Everyone be ready." He moves forward another step. "Gud?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on, squirrel." The arvek-nar grumbles up to the treetops. "We still have a job to do Crik. We'll get out when we need to. Unless shut really goes bad."

She takes a look at what they stumble across, and her brow furrows. "That you Gud? Hell of a job if you took that bear down."

The gnawing stops at the call of the name he knows so well and the dog turns abruptly. It appears the bear did manage to fight back. The canine is badly mauled on his left side. An eye is missing and skull is showing. Deep gashes reveal ribs. Despite this, he is standing. He probably should not be. One milky eye fixes on the group and he growls low, wobbling the piece of spoiling meat in his jaws. It's not enough.

He is Gud. He is the best boy. But he is also hungry.

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12

Gud locks his eye upon Menel, as the closest, and darts at him. Jaws snap, but his teeth miss Menel's leg.

GAME: Zofija rolls heal: (14)+3: 17
GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+9+1-2: (5)+9+1+-2: 13
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (11)+7+-2: 16
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (9)+7+-2: 14

"Gud? Shit, I think that's them, but, not." Zofija growls, taking her hammer and hefting it. "No way it's still alive after all that. It's undead, or something else. Nothing we can do but put it down and bring some peace."

The cavalier spurs their mount onward, taking a swing at the beast, but only succeeding in going wide.

GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (1)+2: 3

Menel draws his second blade in a flash of steel. He hardly needs to hear that its undead. That part is pretty obvious. He snaps his blade across the dog's body, scoring two hits one with either blade, and he sends a warning to his allies. "You think those squirrels might be undead too?" Something in the water maybe?

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+4: (15)+4: 19
GAME: Verna rolls 1d3: (1): 1
GAME: Verna rolls 1d4-2: (3)+-2: 1
GAME: Zofija rolls Fortitude: (14)+7: 21

Zofija may have a more informed opinion on that question as the chittering thing leaps from its perch, spreads its little limbs, and glides right at Zofija's face. Foaming little jaws bite her on the nose. It hurts a little. What is probably worse is the smell of rancid meat and mangy fur. And, well, having a squirrel on her face.

GAME: Crik rolls weapon1+2: (12)+8+2: 22
GAME: Crik rolls weapon1+3d6: 8+(13): 21
GAME: Crik rolls damage1: aliased to 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2

While the dog and squirrel launch themselves at the party, Crik steps aside and looks around worriedly. He was not liking this at all. Hopping around, foot to foot, the corvid rogue makes his way quickly over - and a particularly short, but fat knife appears and shanks the dog into its head. The poor creature falls.

Then Crik stands there staring, as if caught in the act. "Something is very wrong. I think we should leave."

Maybe it was napping. Maybe it was not dead yet. Whatever the reason, the bear carcass rumbles and rises, now choosing to be more bear than carcass. It bears numerous wounds; mostly bites, but also a few weapon wounds. It also appears half-consumed now that it is up on its limbs and not just a pile of fur. Faded, blank eyes look over at the living, breathing food and it bellows.

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13
GAME: Zofija rolls cmb -4: (5)+9+-4: 10

Zofija is suddenly assaulted by the angry squirrel from earlier. There's a period of flailing as the arvek-nar does their best to not breathe anything in, finally ending with the cavalier grabbing the squirrel in a spot that didn't look ready to fall off. "Shit, need a hand getting rid of this one, can't get a swing on it at the moment!"

GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (15)+7+-2: 20
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (7)+7+-2: 12
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (2)+2: 4

Menel's swords dart out in assistance to Zofija, lopping the little creature into bits and pieces while she struggles to hold the little critter. "We need to decide now if we're fighting that bear or getting the corpse and running!" Menel glances at the bear and frowns. Considering the danger to the locals... Killing it now is probably wise.

GAME: Crik rolls stealth: (10)+13: 23

Crik looks at the approaching bear, lets out a very unpleasant croak, and then with a flutter of his cloak... disappears. There's a bit of rustling, but the corvid definitely no longer is there. Looks like the decision to fight or flee is left to the fighters!

GAME: Verna rolls 1d3: (3): 3
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+10: (18)+10: 28
GAME: Verna rolls 1d6+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+15: (15)+15: 30

The bear lumbers forward in a not-quite charge forward. It may just want the biggest meal possible. Maybe it has a preference for feathered food? In either case, it is Screech that is swatted at. Claws dig in and the bear 'hugs' it in close. All the easier for subsequent dining.

GAME: Zofija rolls ride: (8)+13: 21
GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+9+1+1-2: (14)+9+1+1+-2: 23
GAME: Zofija rolls 2d6+6+6: (7)+6+6: 19
GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11

Screech is living up to their name, as the gryphon lets out a pained squawk under attack from the bear. "Thanks." Zofi grunts as the squirrel is removed while she struggles to stay in the saddle while Screech attempts to free itself, to no avail. "Kill it now!" She answers, bringing their hammer down hard on the bear, which is proving unsurprisingly unnaturally resilient.

GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (10)+7+-2: 15
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (4)+7+-2: 9
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (20)+7+-2: 25
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (13)+7+-2: 18
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (2)+2: 4
GAME: Crik rolls weapon1+2: (8)+8+2: 18
GAME: Crik rolls damage1+3d6: aliased to 1d4+1+3d6: (1)+1+(8): 10

Menel swipes twice at the bear, but one goes wide in an effort to avoid striking Screech and the second does far better, hitting the bear solidly though it remains standing in spite of his effort. "Tough one!" He sounds surprisingly chipper.

Crik looks over at the fight from the bushes - and like he has tendency to do, he slips out and hops closer. Once again, his fat knife appears out of nowhere and hits the Bear in the flank - but despite the deep cut, the creature continues its rampage.

GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+10: (5)+10: 15
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+10: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+10: (15)+10: 25
GAME: Verna rolls 1d6+7: (4)+7: 11
GAME: Verna rolls 1d6+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+6: (4)+6: 10
GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20

Poor Screech. The bear does what hungry bears tend to do, clawing and even biting at the poor griffon and leaving it very bloodied. The other attacks are taking their toll on the bear, but its hunger has it focused on prey.

GAME: Zofija rolls 1d20+9+1+1-2: (7)+9+1+1+-2: 16
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (17)+7+-2: 22
GAME: Menel rolls 1d20+7-2: (14)+7+-2: 19
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (5)+2: 7
GAME: Menel rolls 1d6+2: (1)+2: 3

Zofija attempts to swing at the bear, but misses again, caught trying to make sure Screech wasn't hurt further. "Gotta get away from it now, I'll be right back!" She shouts, guiding the griffon away, who had a very obvious bad limp at the moment.

Menel buckles down, his swords weaving an intricate arc as they swing back around. Zofija clears his path as Screech backs away and then he drums a vicious beat upon the bear's hide. The creature falls to the ground, dead - truly dead this time - at last. Menel's breathing is heavy but not uneven, a small smile of satisfaction on his lips as he cleans the weapons and sheathes them on either hip.

"I've no healing for your mount, but it seems we've finally killed it dead." He shakes his head. "We'll need to warn the farmer about his bite lest he turn into undead too." Here he moves, gathering up the second dog corpse and carefully wrapping it in a blanket to be hefted over his shoulder. "We'll bring both back and have a chat."

Oh no. Was it infectious? Rapidly, Crik was wiping his blade clean onto the grass- actually, he switches to napkin really quick that he discards. "That is a good idea. Do not recommend a burial." He replies to Menel, before he starts to head along the path, carefully making his way around the corpses.

"Wonder what made the creatures so mad...?" He asks by himself, before hobbling along.

Zofija settles down, but the arvek-nar is busy checking over their mount with the bear dead, or, re dead? "Everyone okay? You're right. we should take the dog back with us. Burn the others. And make sure the body and Karl are checked over at the vardaman temple. If there are still pockets of undead here, they need to know."

Corpses can be immolated easily enough. The foliage in the Fel, when present, is not especially dry so it is a simple matter to prevent spreading of flame. The return journey is slowed some between the injured Screech and Menel's burden, but is uneventful.

Back in Vadran, Karl has had his dressings changed and has a bowl of soup on his lap. There is an older woman with him bearing a wooden ladle and a cauldron of soup. She may be responsible for both. The two look up as the adventurers enter. When Karl spies the bundle Menel carries, he says nothing, though his eyes make it clear that assumptions are made.

Menel unburdens himself of his package, setting it carefully on the porch and looking Karl in the eye. "We found two corpses. Which dog is yours we did not know, so we brought both. One of them; and the bear that attacked you were undead creatures." His blue eyes offer kindness in their gaze, a sense of empathy. "We must take you and these to the temple of Vardama in Alexandria. For safety's sake."

It seems that his words are both gentle and firm at the same time. He offers no lies nor false hope, but he is not unkind about it either.

Zofija at least had time to bandage some of Screech's wounds before they went back, both for their sake and to not overly panic anyone else.

"Need to make a report in the city and make sure this town and the surrounding area know there is a risk of undead in the area, until a thorough survey can be finished." Zofija grunts. "We're going to go to the Vardaman temple first though, to make sure the body of your companion is purified, so they can be tended to as you want. And to make sure that you are alright as well, after your injury."

Karl blinks at the news and the old woman's face pales. "Undead? The bear?," Karl is incredulous. "How? Looked plenty alive ta me when it got me, an bled when I stuck it! An please don't take Gud! I can take care o' him. An I just had my legged dressed. I feel fine. I don't think there's no plague..."

The woman looks at Karl, then looks at the adventurers. "The Twisted Sisters, you went there, yeah? How was the ground around 'em? Was it broken?"

Menel understands the reluctance, but he stands firm. "We'll make sure you have a farewell sir, but..." The woman's question draws his attention and he nods. "Yes, the ground was broken. We found patches of fur in the ground within a hole there."

"Look, we're not trying to take them from you. We just need to make sure their body is safe so no one else is harmed. And we need to make sure that any injuries you got won't make you sick, okay?"

Zofija sighs and rubs her forehead. "Something was dug up or buried at the trees, yeah. Not sure what exactly happened, though."

• BONK* A wooden ladle impacts the back of Karl's head, accompanied by the woman holding it scolding him. "Karl." *bonk* "Urban." *bonk* "Ranger." *bonk* "Tell me ya didn't bury him in that sour ground! Ye knew better! Ye know the tales!"

"Ow! Ma! Owowow!" Karl then slumps, shifting from covering his head to putting his face in his hands. He begins to sob. Words are spit out between cries and fingers. "I didn't think they were real, but... I just wanted him back... but then he weren't the same... Knew I shoulda stop him... I couldn't do it. Not watch him go. Not again..."

Menel glances at Zofija. "You weren't bit by a bear were you sir?" The words are soft. "You were bit by the dog when he came back. You must come with us. Or you'll be next and undead." He offers his hand to the man. "Come, come with us to say one last goodbye to your friend and see yourself healed."

Zofija stops, and rubs her forehead again "I swore to help with this job and I'll honor that, but you should have been honest from the start. Undead are a serious matter, especially if they spread." She answers, not nearly as kindly. "If it was a bear or the dog, you need to see a healer. It won't take long."

Karl lifts his head, shaking it as he looks to Menel. "No. It was the bear. Gud'd never hurt me. Not even ... after. He went off after the bear. Finish what he started..." Karl sniffs, glances to his mother, the ladle, then back to Menel. Then he nods again. "I'll go. See him off proper. Least I can do. And they can poke at my leg if'n they need to." He uses the chair to push himself standing. "Ain't gonna win no races, but I can make it there."

Menel picks up the dog and offers his arm to the man. "You'll have help. Don't doubt that." And he does.

-End