story Chapter 2

[matt_s]

Coupard paced awkwardly in the confined room, visibly stressed by the events of the last few hours. He had changed his clothes and washed Malcolm's blood from his hands, but the stench of violence lingered.

The cult - I think it's safe to say that there is a cult here after seeing the bizarre rock and the shooting early - is aware of our presence and is concerned enough to do violence to be rid of us. Then we have the gravestones with a sinister history near the Church, the rumored singing, and the peculiar condition of that goat herder and his charges - did you notice that his "hiss" was reminiscent of that poor girl in the asylum, and of course any abnormalities would also be reflected in the local livestock.

We could find and confront that farmer, reach out again to the pastor and his daughter, or go to the local constabulary. I'd imagine they have the local fuzz paid off if they are not outright collaborators in their foul work, so that route is likely to end with a bullet in the head.  

Tonight, at least, we ought to keep watch in shifts here. If possible, an eye on the car would be helpful. I'd imagine the cult would be willing to sabotage our ride out of here.

[Sir Lazeabout]

"Your reasoning has merit," Malcolm agrees. "Let us see if the locals we have already met might reveal more given more pointed questioning - or whether they might be willing to join us in trying to discover the truth. The matter concerns them even more than it does us, after all, taking place around their own homes."

[Butchern]

On 1/28/2023 at 5:36 PM, matt_s said:

We could find and confront that farmer, reach out again to the pastor and his daughter, or go to the local constabulary.

"We should not rule out the possibility that it was one of them that shot Malcolm," Livingston said. "Confronting someone in this town and tipping your hand is a risky proposition."
 

On 1/28/2023 at 5:36 PM, matt_s said:

Tonight, at least, we ought to keep watch in shifts here. If possible, an eye on the car would be helpful. I'd imagine the cult would be willing to sabotage our ride out of here.

"I don't mind keeping the last watch," Maria said, thinking that would be the more difficult job. "We should let Mr. Malcolm sleep if he can."
 

18 hours ago, Sir Lazeabout said:

"Your reasoning has merit," Malcolm agrees. "Let us see if the locals we have already met might reveal more given more pointed questioning - or whether they might be willing to join us in trying to discover the truth.

"The sheriff won't be hard to find," Livingston said. "If we decide to go that route."

"We could also ask at the diner in the morning," Maria said. "They are open for breakfast."

"We can make our final decisions about what to do by the light of day," Livingston said.

The investigators quickly finalized their plans to keep watch, and with that, they turned in to their own rooms to sleep if they could.

[Butchern]

Maria ushered Livingston back to their room and shut and locked the door with a pronounced click. Since Coupard was keeping the first watch, Maria left him the fun and a small cardboard box of bullets.

The ladies' room was right across the hall from the men folk's room. Malcolm and Coupard's room had two twin beds, a sizeable closet, and a large window that overlooked the street. There were three rooms on the second floor, the room on the front of the house (Malcolm and Coupard's room), and two rooms on the back of the house—the room occupied by Maria and Livingston and another room that was currently unoccupied. The bathroom was at one end of the hallway. The stairway was at the other.

By keeping the door to their room cracked, Coupard would have no trouble watching the door to Maria's room and the hallway. From the window he could see if anyone was coming or going into the front of the house.

Coupard stayed up for three more hours to keep his watch. The night passed uneventfully. When Livingston quietly rapped on his door to let him know she was up, he gave her the gun and turned in.

[Butchern]

Coupard awakened from his terrible dream with a start. He was standing beside the bed, but he didn't remember getting up. It probably just happened as a result of him awakening so suddenly. It was still late in the night or early in the morning. The room was dark and cold. He could hear Malcolm tossing and turning and mumbling in his sleep. Malcolm was, no doubt, having some terrible dream as well. From where he stood, Coupard could see out his window and down to the street and the small lane that branched off from it. There, he saw a figure in white. It looked like a long flowing nightgown with a shock of dark red hair on top and pink legs beneath. The figure was moving away from the inn down the lane in a slow walk.

 

[matt_s]

Coupard rubbed his eyes and yet the figure remained. He staggered out of the room and flagged down his companion who had been keeping watch. Quickly, he motioned them into his room, agitation amply apparent, and point to the figure outside the window.

He whispered, that figure, you see it? What do you make of it?

Coupard hoped they could see it too.

[Butchern]

"I see her," a Maria said.

A very sleepy Livingston squeezed the blanket she had wrapped around her think shoulders more tightly as she approached the window. She nodded. She could see her too.

"Is that Señorita Vincent?" Maria couldn't remember the Father's last name. "Emma?"

"Looks like her," Livingston said.

The figure looked ghostly in the moonlight. She was close to fading from view as she approached a bend in the lane. She was headed toward the swamp.

[matt_s]

What the blazes is she doing? She - she must be of the cultists! whispers a startled Coupard.

She likely knows every corner of this swamps, and will hear us coming if we try to tail here, and the people out there have guns. Let us confront her now and see what in Creation is going on here.

After her!

and Coupard will quickly don shoes and coat if the weather demands and try to follow the meandering young woman.

[Butchern]

The air was cool and damp and smelled of mud and standing water. The investigators left Livingston behind (with doors locked) to hold down the fort as Coupard, Malcolm, and Maria set out after the girl. At first it was easy to follow her at a distance. She plodded along slowly enough and without any thought for who might be following. But then, after about 100 yards, she turned and began to head off the road, into the swamp.

[matt_s]

The swamp was dark, and the girl certainly knew it better than they did. If she was calm and collected, she would easily elude her pursuers even inadvertently. Time to either get her to stop, or to panic. Coupard shouts in her direction -

Emma! This is a bizarre hour to be wandering the woods! Do you have a moment to talk?

If she keeps going, Coupard will continue, saying,

We know about the rock in the woods! And about your friends and their gunshot hospitality! Malcolm, the man with me, he nearly died because of them.

[Sir Lazeabout]

"And running around a swamp is really doing my leg no favours!" Malcolm shouts, hoping that even this strange madame might be inclined towards feminine pity.

[Butchern]

Emma turned to look at Coupard and Malcolm when Coupard called her name. She was holding something in her fist. She looked dazed when she turned, but she continued to walk slowly off the road.

[Butchern]

The investigators spoke to Emma as they approached, and she stopped.

Malcolm was no expert, but he was pretty sure that she was headed in the direction of the farm house and the ancient stone. She just wasn't planning to use the main road to get there. He also saw that she held something in her hand that she secreted into her pocket when they called her name. It looked like a knife.

"I . . . I really don't have time . . . I have to . . ." She looked a bit confused and flustered and like she didn't know what to say. "I don't know anything about guns," she added weakly. "Who almost died? I have to go." But she didn't move. "Can I go?"

 

[Sir Lazeabout]

“Where to in such a hurry, Miss?” Malcolm says. “This is surely no time of night to go wandering. Whatever would your father say?”

[matt_s]

Emma, please don't be hasty now. There are some questions that need to be answering, and I doubt it is wise to be about late at night. We can likely answer some of yours, some questions that perhaps you did not think to even ask.

Looking at Malcolm for a moment, Coupard continues,

My friend's reference to your father is purely rhetorical. Your family business is none of ours, for we are interested in grander things. Tell me, you know the kindly goat herder with that odd tic? Do you know what did that to him? Did you know that poor man is only going to get worse and worse unless something is done around here?