"A Grisly Examination" Log Date: 6/20/02 Log Cast: Vardeus, Wayfound, Tefin, Quietharm, Kephissa Log Intro: Three heads. Tentacles that writhe forth from their bodies, and which deliver jolting electric pain to any hapless creatures that get within their path. These things, along with the niggling feeling that has come to every suitably sensitive elf in the camp, are more than enough to tell the survivors of the dawn assault upon the humans and elves camped at the Vastdeep Water that the things that attacked them were not natural beasts... but there are two elves in the camp for whom the subtleties of 'magic feeling' are not an option. The Wolfrider Wayfound and the Go-Back Tefin prefer to rely instead upon facts and observation -- and this is all to the good for the human Captain Vardeus, who has even less of a chance at magical sensitivity than they by sheer virtue of his race. After months of seeing Wayfound's mind at work, Vardeus is quite ready to put both her and the newcomer elf to work getting him answers about what was unleashed upon his hapless crew, unsavory though those answers may be. And as he and the two elves meet to unwrap the cocooned beast that Tefin has requested be kept aside for his examining, Vardeus is about to get those unsavory answers.... ---------- Beach on the VastDeep Water The pale sand is full of river-born crystal and gleams with tiny rainbow lights in the early morning light. Wide and inviting, the sands stay warm long after sunset. There are drift logs here, and a large boulder pushes its shoulders above the surface of the sand. You can see footprints, small bare footprints, leading into the water and out. There is dense foliage to the north that follows the coastline closely where it bends to the northwest. The twin stars of Timmorn's Eyes begin to come out as the dimming red light of sunset fills the chill winter skies. Contents: Wayfound Tefin Blizzard Salmakis Raven's Tent(#6222Je) Yellow Campsite (#691AJLe) The Windrider(#1655AJae) Seasong's Tent (#6051JUem) Obvious exits: Along the Beach Forest Up the Shore Water Great River It isn't often that the Vraeyans have gotten to see Wayfound's companion Fallberry do what it does best: make wrapstuff. But the Preserver has gone all out to cocoon the fallen body of one of the beasts that attacked the campsite, taking a paradoxical pride in the task and almost singing to itself as it lavished white goo all over the lifeless form of the three-headed, tentacled hound. Once that task had been done, Vardeus had directed three of his men to help him move thing out of the immediate line of sight of the camp -- because, truth be told, nobody has wanted to see it since, and it's taken the efforts of half the crew to keep Dharce from bursting into hysterics every time she's gotten a look at the thing. Now, though, Vardeus and Wayfound return to where the cocoon has been set for safekeeping, under guard. Fallberry flutters anxiously behind the she-elf's head, piping as it wrings its hands, /Highthing and bigthing really cut open wrapstuff?! Is good wrapstuff! Fallberry say so! No want see nastybad manyheads growlerthing!/ He can hear the preserver's shrill little voice halfway down the beach..preservers must be pretty tough to be so annoying and yet survive for as long as they have. Tefin makes his way down the beach, a grim job ahead of him. Playing with dead things is not something that he enjoys doing, but at this time it is required for information vital to the survival of the Vraenans. Where did these things come from? That's what he's hoping to find out. "Good evening Vardeus...Wayfound...Fallberry." He nods to them each in turn. "I suppose we should get started." "Aye, that we should," Vardeus mutters, eying the wrapstuffed heap askance. There's something unsettled lurking behind the human's azure eyes; if one didn't know better, one might suspect him of superstitious discomfort. But then again... Wayfound's not exactly thrilled to be about to examine this creature either, so one can't exactly blame the human for his reluctance. "Do you wish to cut open the bundle, Tefin, or shall I?" she inquires. "I'll do it. The less blood gets on us, the better." He frowns a little at the memory of the scent of his sleepfurs after loaning them to Wayfound that evening...they still stink of the beast that she killed and it won't come out no matter how hard he tries. He falls to one knee and inserts the tip of his dagger through the wrapstuff, cutting slowly along the side, much to Fallberry's chagrin, I'm sure. No, the Preserver isn't pleased either, and lets out a little whimper of complaint from its perch atop Wayfound's head. But no one present seems inclined to give the bug what it seeks: a reprieve from this damage to its piece of art. Instead, Vardeus speaks up grimly, saying, "Some o' th' other huimins... they've told me elves c'n do magic, t' shape beasts like this. C'n ye tell if that was done?" He looks back and forth between the elves now, brows winging low over his eyes. Wayfound looks up, at that. "I have no direct experience with creatures who have been shaped," she must admit, "but as I have told Tefin... my mother has. She has told me of her encounters with giant spiders in a distant wood." Tefin says "Some can, Vardeus, and that is what this little exercise will hopefully determine. My theory is that if these creatures were shaped, they will show signs of rapid growth or trauma to the long bones of the body." Translated, We're gonna cut the thing open and see if anything doesn't look right. He continues cutting slowly, making sure not to disturb the body within until he absolutely has to. "Fallberry...thank you for making wrapstuff. As a treat, if you want, I'll let you wrapstuff me for a day or so, allright?"" At this proposal, Vardeus actively starts, blurting, "Is that _safe_?" And Wayfound starts as well. It's hard to surprise the young Wolfrider -- but Tefin seems to have been making a habit of it ever since the two of them have met, and now is no exception. "Are you... quite sure of that, Tefin?" She doesn't quite blurt with the same force as the human, but still -- she's obviously surprised. From out in the forest comes a slight shape, casually making her way to the beach with an unhurried stride. Voices carry on the wind, bringing their tenors, altos and baritones to her scalloped ears. Quietharm pauses in her tracks, listening. Tefin chuckles quietly. "Fallberry, is wrapstuff safe to be inside? Will I be in any danger at all?" Might let teh butg answer before he does. He continues cutting, more and more of the creature coming into view. /Wrapstuff is good! All snugsafe inside!/ Fallberry important proclaims, now zipping over to perch atop the head of the little Go-Back. Tefin, apparently, is now the bug's most favorite person in the entire camp! /Fallberry make busyhead snowhighting all snugsafe! Fallberry happy!/ That uttered, it proceeds to try to play with Tefin's dark hair. Er. Not convinced, Vardeus shoots a glance asking for confirmation from Wayfound, who hedges, "My mother and fathers were in wrapstuff for millenia, unharmed. A day certainly wouldn't hurt him..." Tefin chuckles quietly again, wincing a bit as Fallberry tugs a bit too hard on his hair while trying to play with it. "I'll be fine, Varedus...besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to be wrapped inside wrapstuff. You will let me out, won't you, Wayfound?" Quietharm appears in front of the others now, letting her ankles sink into the sand. She just picked up the last bits of conversation, which concerned wrapstuff. She really didn't have much to say on the topic, as the threads were not well known to her. "Vardeus! Wayfound!" Smiling brightly, she made her way up to them both, eyeing Tefin quizzically along the way. "If ye say so, lad..." Lad, despite the fact that Tefin is many times the Vraeyan's elder; he can't help it, really. This is what the Go-Back gets for being shorter than Maerro. But now Vardeus is distracted by Quietharm's arrival, and he turns round to incline his head to her, his eyes grave. "Evenin', Quiethaerm... 'tis a grisly task we're about, be warned--" He nods his shaggy head at the wrapstuffed creature, even as Tefin cuts more and more of free. The smell of it is escaping now, and from atop the little elf's head, Fallberry grimaces. /Ick!/ the bug pipes. "Ick, indeed," murmurs Wayfound, who turns then to Quietharm as well and adds politely, "Good evening. Have you made the acquaintance of Tefin of the Go-Backs?" Sure, he doesn't cut an imposing stature, but hey, how many go-backs do? He grimaces a little, reaching into a pouch on his waist and pulling out several small sachets of herbs, each tied neatly with string. At the arrival of the new elf, he stops his gruesome work and stands, sachets dangling from oneh and. "Good evening." It is only now that Quietharm finally notices the gigantic ball of wound wrapstuff encircling something rather large. She freezes, unsure of what it is, exactly. She would have greeted Tefin if she wasn't so engrossed in it, really. "Here...I made these to help with the stink." he offers the sachets to both Vardeus and Wayfound. "I apologise, Quietharm, but I only have enough for three." Winnowill take his eyes if he's going to be cutting on this thing without something to take care of the smell! He deftly ties the little bundle underneath his nose and kneels, continuing to cut the cocoon open. "Tefin's after seein' whether he can tell us whether th' thing's been shaped," Vardeus tells Quietharm, then. "Th' bug kept it wrapped up till he was ready." The human's throat flexes as he swallows unconsciously; never mind that he'd fought one of these things and chopped off two of its heads. Seeing it now, even dead, sends a bolt of superstition winging through him. He controls it... mostly... but it's reflected in his anxious eyes. "((Skyfather,))" he mutters in Vraeyan, before passing the herbs offered him over to Quietharm. "Your nose's better than mine," he asserts. "Ye'd better take this." And Wayfound, with a Wolfrider's senses, has to switch to breathing through her mouth lest she lose what was left within her of her last meal. "Two-Spear's Madness..." she breathes, huskily. Quietharm crinkles up her nose, slapping both of her palms over the sense that surrendured the offensive smell up to her. "Nasty." She waves off the offer Vardeus gives her; she hadn't really encountered worse, but the aid was intended for him, not her. Tefin coughs a little, the bile rising in his throat unbidden. Good thing he decided that eating before this little jaunt would lead to an upset stomach at the very least, retching and clutching at his stomach at the very worst. Steeling hiself, he takes hold of the edge of the wrapstuff cocoon and throws it over, exposing the creature to the light once more...' "They'll help...overpower the scent." Tefin murmurs breathlessly. Quietharm reels back from the smell alone; it was very overpowering. Crinkling her eyes shut, she cracks one just in time to catch a glimpse of the disgusting creature. Unnatural indeed. Vardeus doesn't quibble with Quietharm; his nose might not be as sensitive as the elves', but still, he can get more than enough of the odor rising off the body of the beast that he's grateful to have the little packet of herbs to breathe through. He lifts it up in one big hand, holding it against his mouth and settling his breathing into as careful a pace as possible. "They look like... ((dog)) heads," he growls, appalled. "Even if there's three of 'em." "The ears are wrong for wolves," Wayfound agrees, her voice going less expressive, as she pulls behind her usual shell of reserve to try to master the disgust sweeping through her. Tefin kneels down next to the creature slowly, on the now-clean sand, staying as far away from the blood-soaked wrapstuff as he can. Rolling up his sleeves, he begins a cursory examination. "My only...experience is...with a few wolves. This...may not...be the best...but it will have...to do." He starts to examine the one remaining head...the central one, located where a wolf's head should be. The teeth are elongated...the eyes slitted and yellow, shot through with dark veins. "I dinnae want t' meet what could do that t' a helpless ((dog))," Vardeus mutters. He doesn't look away, this stoic human Captain, but there's no doubt he's having difficulty with what lies in full gory view before him. The look in his eyes gives him a bit of an air of a troubled boy, somewhere under the grown man facing what has slain two of his crew. His jaw set, he remarks plaintively to no one in particular, "I _had_ a ((dog)), back home." Wayfound murmurs to Tefin, but quietly so as not to disturb his concentration more than necessary, "Vardeus speaks of creatures my tribe has called near-wolves." /Nastybad growlerthing is almostgrowlerthing?/ chirps Fallberry, leaning far over from atop Tefin's head, its tiny brow crinkled in dismay. You can't prove it by the bug! Quietharm curls her lower lip in disdain for the creature, noting its resemblence to a... "Its a near-wolf with three heads!" Although the others had already surmised that much, it was the very first time that the she-elf ever really got a good look at the freak of nature. Curiosity has often gotten Kephissa into trouble. She probably should have known better than to wander down to see what they were doing. She wrinkles her nose. "Ewwwwwww." And for once words fail her, but that one sound seems to sum it up for her. Tefin mmms in reply to Wayfound's comment, filing that away in his little repository of memory for later use. Near-wolf it was...now it's even furthr away than it was before. He lets the head down gently and starts feeling along the ridge of the spine, brows knit as deft fingers discover that the spine splits into a branched tree that used to attach the other heads to the body. Also he notes the two stalk-like growths from the back, right above the shoulderblades for more support during attack... "It did, at any rate," Wayfound murmurs to Quietharm, "have three heads before we got to it. Then, to Tefin: "You have observed, then, that the bones of creatures do show signs of great stress inflicted upon them? I have had no opportunity to make such conclusions for myself..." Her words come out more or less in her usual clinical tone... but a trifle overfast. She may be struggling to remain detached, but beneath her calm exterior, Wayfound is profoundly troubled. Vardeus, for his part, gives Wayfound an odd look -- one of many a good number of the crew have been wont to give her ever since she arrived. But then he glances at Kephissa as he overhears her voice, and smiles wanly and lopsidedly in her direction. "About sums it up, that does," he drawls at her. "Aye...it appears my hypothesis is true, but I wish to inspect the creature further before saying that I am certian." Tefin is struggling to keep from getting sick all over this creature. That wouldn't help this autopsy in the least, and it would make continuing it that much more unpleasant. He notes Wayfound's haste in speaking but does not mention it...the faster that he is finished with this, the better. He now moves down to the rear leg of the creature, lifting it up and pulling it over, trying to roll the creature over on it's back. He stops, though, when he feels someting in the leg. Removing his dagger from it's sheath, he begins to cut at the flesh right above the knee of the creature, dissecting it as carefully as he can without hurting his fingers. Quietharm is meanwhile far back from Vardeus, Wayfound and Tefin. She watches the three look over the creature, but does nothing to interfere. "Physical confirmation of the senses of magic can only be of aid," Wayfound breathes. Mostly for her own benefit, from the sound of her. She has to take a moment to close her eyes, while a shudder of nausea rolls through her, and she takes a few steps back towards the other she-elf. Scientific curiosity aside, Wayfound is not particularly proud -- and she can see just as well from several paces back as she can up close. "I have not had the opportunity to inquire," she murmurs to Quietharm then, "as to whether you are one of those in the camp who possess magical sensitivity enough to say whether the creatures which attacked us were shaped..." "Well, all ye Little People have that on _me_," Vardeus grumbles. He's still standing fast -- but now he, like Wayfound, is taking pains to breathe through his mouth. "I dinnae feel nothin' but the urge to take a sword t' whoever made th' things, if made they've been." "I suspect," Wayfound points out to Vardeus, "that a sword would be... less than useful, if a shaper is indeed at work here." "Look here..." Tefin says between labored breaths. "The bone is...well...stretched." If you can see, the bone that he has disected the muscle off of shows several stress fractures, several needle-like offshoots of bone, and lots and lots of raw flesh. This creature, when walking, must have been in horrible pain... "If it has a body and bleeds," Vardeus argues, a thunderous expression lurking somewhere behind the calm _he_ is trying to maintain, "ye c'n stick a sword in it--" "An assumption which is valid only if you can actually reach your target," Wayfound debates, her tone growing a trifle strained along with the human's. This isn't exactly the time to argue -- but then again, she reasons, he _does_ need to know... "Vardeus, some of the most powerfully gifted of my kind could easily disarm a warrior, of your kind _or_ mine; I mean no disrespect to humans, but it is a simple fact. Magic does not need to touch you to harm you--" But they're both cut off by Tefin, and they're both grateful for the distraction. Sort of. It's a grim distraction, to be sure. And Vardeus blows out a ragged breath, telling the little Go-Back, "Ye're gonna hafta explain t' me, lad, what that means t' ye. I'm a ((sailor)), nae a ((scholar.))" His accent is starting to thicken, too, a sure sign of his discomfort. "As Wayfound said, some of the more powerful of our kind can harm with a touch or," he gestures to the creature. "Shape the flesh of the living into how they see fit." A few short cuts and he removes the bone from the leg, holding it up so that Vardeus and Wayfound can see it better. The bone itself in the center looks like any normal bone, but at the ends, it appears somehow bone has been added, bulging and boiling into an unhealthy mass of shards and splinters. "Wild magic would have targeted the entire bone...not just the ends where it would be easiest to add length without sacrificing strength." Kephissa and Quietharm, looking sickened, have both bolted -- and though neither Vardeus nor Wayfound are surprised, they're both having to wrestle with the urge to do the same. But the human and the Wolfrider both have committed to seeing this through, and they're not about to leave now. "Ye're tellin' me then that you're sure this beast an' its brothers were delib'rately made?" Vardeus rumbles, that thunderous expression darkening his eyes more visibly now. "I can see no other conclusion," Wayfound says heavily, wrapping her arms about herself even as she speaks. It's a strangely frail gesture, despite her detached tone. "The sheer fact that there were so many of them... a pool of magic big enough to warp an entire pack of near-wolves in this fashion must surely have been something the magic-users amongst us could have sensed..." Tefin says "I'm sure that if I keep digging, I could discover more examples of this...change." The hesitation in his voice belays his reluctance to do so. "But this bone is evidence enough....as much as I hate to admit it, someone manufactured these beasts for the sole purpose of..destruction."" "Destroyin' _us_?" Now that a conclusion has been reached, the human seems to straighten up slightly, a hint of the same battle-readiness with which he'd faced the creatures in combat coming over his face and frame. "I do not like to guess," Wayfound notes in disturbed tones, "as my ability to observe during the melee was hindred... but I thought I was able to discern that the creatures initially targeted the humans among us until the elves joined in the battle as well..." She swallows hard, now. "Tefin... would you concur?" Tefin nods slowly in agreement, rubbing his bloodstained hands together in the sand in an effort to clean them off. "They attacked the females and the young first...the weakest. Apparently it was an effort to sow terror among the group. Frightened foes are easier to slay than determined ones." "Dharce, her baby, Altis, and Maerro," Vardeus affirms, the growl thick in his gravelly baritone now. He stares down at the two elves now, eyes hot and hard. "So ye're tellin' me, at th' heart of it... there's one o' yer kind who hates my kind enough they're makin' mad beasts and sendin' 'em on us?" Wayfound, by now, looks sick -- and in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the stench of the beast that Tefin has disemboweled. Fallberry, still clinging to the top of the Go-Back's head, has even fallen silent as it looks back and forth between human and elves, its attention swivelling anew to Wayfound as she looks up at Vardeus, stricken. "That is what we are telling you, yes," she answers, and the words taste like ashes in her mouth. Tefin lets the bone fall from his grasp to land in the sand with a soft thud, a pained look crossing his expression. No matter what he says, the human's well-deserved anger will not be soothed in the least, so he simply remains quiet....or he should, at least. "One of our kind...yes...an insane one." A visible shudder grips the human, as if he's struggling valiantly to repress the urge to lash out and hit something. Seeing the look on his face, Fallberry lets out a little /eep/ and pulls its hat down over its eyes... and only the sight of the little creature, harmless and cute as it is, and the solemn regard of the elves is keeping him from giving rein to his fury. With a mighty effort, he makes himself look at Tefin and Wayfound rather than whirl on the dead creature and rend what's left of it to pieces with his bare hands. "Leafshimmer shapes th' wood," he says, hoarsely. "Shay'la shapes th' rock. An' Starwind c'n heal, an' Splash back at the Raft Holt. But none of ye here that I've seen c'n do--" He gestures, with his five-fingered hand, at the beast. "If it were ye an' yer folk... tell me what ye'd do." The big chief is looking for answers and, unfortunately, Tefin has none. "It's...not that easy. This is something that I've never run against myself and I'm not sure how to react. Elves do not kill other elves, but we do use creatures like Fallberry to incapacitate them for the rest of their days." He is silent for a time, thinking. "Plans need to be made. We must discuss this before going any further." He kneels and picks up the bone from the sand. "This is all the evidence that we need...the rest should be destroyed." "It's leavin' me and me ((crew))'ll be, an' no mistake," Vardeus rumbles. He'd already decided the humans for whom he is responsible need to be on the move for the long overdue visit to Xhosa and Shelbor and Coralfire's village -- now, though, the problem has escalated. "It's jus' a matter of how t' get movin' an' keep us all safe. But aye. We'll want a council. All of us. Th' Briarholters an' the Rafters, too." Fallberry flutters -- and then, deeply troubled in its own way by the mood of the human and the elves, it zips back to Wayfound's shoulder and climbs under her hair, hugging her neck. /Fallberry scared,/ it confesses. "That makes two of us," Wayfound breathes, before she adds to the others, "Cutter's folk hunted the monster Madcoil with a full tribal hunt, but that was one beast, and made by wild magic besides. The Firstborn Doreel has made his giant spiders, but they have never been sighted outside his wood. This... this is beyond my knowledge as well, Vardeus." "Then it's a council we'll have," the human repeats. "But first--" And he glares with undisguised wrath down at the remnants of the assault that has been launched upon the camp. Upon _his_ people. "We destroy that. With fire." [End log.]