Crimes of Circumstance [OPEN: Cherri, Rowan, Randio]

[El]

It was truly a tragic event to be kidnapped. Some would call it traumatising even.

Cherri could understand why.

Her tea was lukewarm.

A soft sigh breezed across the surface of her wildberry brew, where there should've been magical curling wisps of steam... there were merely gentle ripples. The pretty porcelain was starting to chill her fingers, the utter absence of the intense warmth to cradle and comfort causing her heart to ache. "...This is sad."

Brushing aside the crocheted blanket to instead rest it in the crooks of her elbows, the Sheikah arose from her plush armchair and meandered over to the barred window of her isolated hut. "Darling~?" She called out, sing-song and sweet, to lure over the hunchback fellow who was finishing burying the latest body in the back garden. "I understand you're very busy, sweetie, but could I trouble you for a spot of aid?"

It took time, but Cherri was nothing but patient. Eventually, with hobbled effort, he had successfully shambled over, the bucked teeth and jutting jaw grinding in deliberation while his eyes scurried over her sumptuously cosy form for issues. "...Erh?"

Her lips melted into a smile, eyes crinkling with warm fondness. "Perhaps when you've got a moment you could display your enduring strength by chopping some fresh firewood? Maybe afterwards you could even join me for some tea?"

"...Erhn." He nodded after a good sniff, brushing some sweat and dirt from his bulbous nose with the back of his hand. He was so deathly pale. Troubling really. Despite all the hard labour he'd been up to, he didn't eat anywhere near enough to sustain it. Or perhaps his pallid complexion was simply from a lack of sunlight.

"Exactly, hun, you deserve a break too." She encouraged with a soft frown. "Hurry along now: the sooner you can put those feet of yours up the better. It's getting a little lonely in here too, you know."  The admittance came with a squeeze of her gifted blanket, drawing its warmth and comfort tighter around her bare shoulders. There was a chill in the air tonight, and though in truth Cherri found it refreshing, she could see the guarded concern in her captor's gaze as he scoured her for goosebumps in response.

The man grunted in affirmation. And then off he limped, deeper into the lush woodland, exchanging spade for axe as he passed his favourite storage-stump by. Hopefully he'd make it back before sunrise. As Cherri watched his shambling form disappear into the thick foliage, her gaze lifted to gleam what little she could of the sky through the rustling canopy above. Its hue was paling.

Well, she supposed there was little else to do but continue to make herself comfortable.

After throwing the last of the logs onto the fireplace, she started up a fresh pot of tea and meandered back to her armchair. She'd moved it from its original spot by the window that overlooked Lake Kolomo, pulling it up against what was formerly a dining table but now her writing roost: its well-loved surface scattered with scribbled papers and notebook scraps, a tiny, child's cup spilling with pencil shavings.

Cherri brushed aside a few errant crumbs and seized a fresh shortbread biscuit from the tin as she resettled. The fire crackled. The air warmed with the aroma of sweet wildberry. Her spare fingers cradled the familiar form of a shrinking pencil. Yet, for a few, lingering moments, her attention drifted towards the collection of portraits mounted on the wall opposite. The artstyle was... avant-garde, yet a painting need not be realistic in order to be expressive.

Blue eyes. Blonde hair. Pointed Hylian ears.

While there was a similarity of features between each portrait, it was clear that the model was different throughout the series: not simply due to limitations in skill, but intentionally so. As if the artist was attempting to recreate or capture something...? Were these all merely 'iterations'...? A means to an as-of-yet unaccomplished end...?

The base of her pencil softly tapped her lips, pursed in thought. She would've thought deeper still, yet - as inspiration was wont to - in that moment a wave of creativity struck her and her priorities instantly shifted. This whole kidnapping situation was proving incredibly fruitful for her latest work! 'Blossom's' upcoming series, 'The Lynel's Captive Bride', was sure to delight her readers - she was confident of it. Besides, after a whole trilogy of it, she'd grown tired of writing about Gerudo politics in 'The Queen's Harem of Heroines to Harlots'. It was time for less poison and cloaked-daggers, and more-... dirt-tumbling.

Heh.

Yes, this being-kidnapped business was very memorable indeed: a perfect writer's retreat! Given it'd been several days now since her last reporting update, no doubt sweet Traysi had already pasted adverts of her disappearance all over the main outposts and settlements of Central Hyrule. Cherri could imagine it now, clear as the coming day. It probably went something like:

JOURNALIST MISSING IN ACTION!!!
HEROES URGENTLY NEEDED!
Darling damsel in distress!
Was en route to investigate a string of missing persons cases.
Serial murderer suspected at large! Bring courage and weapons!
Last seen at the Riverside Stable.
(Please speak to Ember to collect more information!)

[LuckyBlackCat]

"So much for a simple errand."

After years of traversing a kingdom that had yet to get back on its feet, Rowan knew better than to expect such. Even for those who stuck to the well-travelled paths, trouble had a way of cropping up like a band of highway thieves. This particular spot of bother had stared them in the face in the form of notices over every sign and settlement as soon as they and Wildberry had trotted into Central Hyrule, the cart loaded with sacks of horse feed blend grinding through dirt behind them. Of course it wouldn't just be a matter of dropping them off at the various stables and discussing the network's future over mugs of Hyrule Herb tea.

Resigned to the inquiry they'd have to make, they tightened their grip on the reins with a heavy sigh as smoke rings came into view over a cluster of trees, followed by the Malanya-headed tent that was Riverside Stable. Wildberry remained unfazed, his cantering as lively as ever.

"Journalist," Rowan muttered to their mount, forehead creasing. "Just had to be freaking journalists, eh?" There was a good chance these reporters had spent more time sensationalising any missing person case to rake in the rupees than actually doing much about it, especially if they were part of such a shady company as the Lucky Clover Gazette. Rowan wouldn't be surprised if a detail or several on the notice had been blown way out of proportion.

Yet they couldn't ignore something like this. Not if people really were missing.

When they eased Wildberry to a stop outside the stable and dismounted, the horse huffed and fidgeted, shifting his head towards the path that stretched onwards to the bridge. Not even pulling the heavy cart had done much to tire him. "Don't you fret," Rowan soothed, rubbing Wildberry's neck and ruffling his mane. "Malanya willing, we'll be on the road again soon enough." Even if there was no telling when "soon enough" would be.

Stretching the aches out of their back and legs, they turned their weary gaze to Ember, who approached the front booth. "Well, here's that new Tabantha Wheat bran based feed." They mustered a flicker of a smile before getting right to the point, their expression darkening once more. "Also... The 'darling damsel in distress' case, as it's being called." They fought the urge to roll their eyes. "Please tell me it's exaggerated."

[El]

Ember's smile was strained, warmed by familiarity but stiff with discomfort when the most popular subject of the day was broached. "I wish it was just a publicity stunt," He admitted with a sigh. Despite the tinge of humour to his habitually cheerful demeanour, the attempt fell flat. His face turned grim. "Five disappearances have been reported so far, all across Central Hyrule and within the span of just over two months.

"Word is, those snakes at the Lucky Clover Gazette seem to have gotten wind of it around the third report when the similarities between-..." He grimaced, hesitating on his next words. In a quieter voice he continued, eyes shifting carefully over his surroundings for unwanted eavesdroppers, "-victims, became more than just coincidence but a pattern: blonde hair, blue eyes, all young Hylian women. Admittedly until then we'd been writing these poor souls off as yet more victims of monster attacks - dangerous as these wilds still are -  but it became clear then that something more sinister was afoot: something targeted." A faint shiver ran through him at the long pause that followed, concern warping his expression. Monsters were one thing, but if the Calamities had taught anything, it was just how monstrous humanity itself could be.

"Not that all their snooping has done any good yet. On the contrary, eh." Ember clicked his tongue and pulled a wonky grin that was half a grimace - if only to shake off his own unease. Two more disappearances had happened since, and now even one of their own people were on the chopping block.

"Anyway, lemme go get those sacks in. Thanks as always, Rowan! I'm not sure what we'd all do without you honestly: I hope you realise how much we appreciate your good work out here even during these turbulent times."

Lifting the hinged countertop with heave-and-ho, the Hylian wove through the Stable, shooting Wildberry's impatient shuffling an affectionate chuckle. He directed a few young apprentices to help unload the delivery, though just as he hefted up a sack himself, he yelled back at Rowan once more, "Go put your feet up near the fire and grab yourself a pint! Gotter's been dying to share more of his latest exper-eh-recipes if you fancy some. We've got plenty of feed to share with your sprightly lad too if he also wants a nibble."

[LuckyBlackCat]

Rowan's frown deepened as they took in the news. So this was more than just the Gazette's latest attention-grabbing scheme. And for all their and Ember's shared disdain for the newspaper company - a sentiment most stable workers held as of late, for obvious reasons - six lives at stake couldn't be ignored. Particularly not with the culprit still unidentified and at large.

"Not that all their snooping has done any good yet. On the contrary, eh."

"When has it ever done any good?" Rowan's voice dropped to a murmur. Badmouthing such an esteemed company in public was something to do with caution, even among those who shared their opinion. At Ember's gratitude for the errand, though, a tug of a smile brightened Rowan's face. "Aw, don't mention it. It's never any trouble. And it's more important than ever right now to help each other out in any way we can."

As the apprentices started lifting sacks from the cart, Rowan unlatched the bindings and led Wildberry to the stall, securing him inside. The horse snorted and shuffled his hooves once more, but quickly forgot about his wanderlust when presented with a generous portion of grain. After gently scratching between Wildberry's ears, Rowan turned and hauled one of the bags into the tent, ignoring the twinges in their lower back from the long journey. "Thanks to you too, but first things first," they called to Ember. "Hey, it's what I'm here for, after all."

The warmth and cordiality of Ember's offer, the family-like team dynamic, the whinnies, clucks and yaps of animals well cared for... Rowan couldn't imagine living without such aspects of stable culture. Setting down the bag, they held back a sigh. Would horse feed still be needed in a few decades? Would the same staff still work here? Would anyone?

"Well, it was the sole reason until this came up." They trudged over to the stable owner, keenly aware of the weight of the bow and quiver slung across their shoulder. Ember's explanation made it chillingly clear that this investigation would put them in the path of someone who knew what they were doing. "This... damsel, if the press insists on calling her that." Once again, they kept their tone hushed, barely concealing their disgust at the way the Gazette spoke of a crime against one of their own like it was some mere stage melodrama. "Where did she leave towards? And the others, the young Hylian women, do you know where they were last seen?"

[El]

A grim look settled across Ember's expression, weighing heavily upon his brow as he carefully regarded his colleague. After too long a moment of deliberation a defeated sigh deflated his chest, "I wish I was in a position to tell you not to stick your neck out, Rowan."

But despite his bitter smile and the stings it needled him with, he relented to his friend's request. "Those poor girls-..." Pausing, he set down his current sack of grain first. The discomfort of the situation made any extra weight upon his shoulders nigh unbearable - and even disrespectful. This issue demanded his full focus so he turned his hard look upon Rowan full and proper, hands planted upon his hips so that the anxious fingers could settle. "Just as their origins differ, so too do the reported locations of their disappearances. I couldn't see a pattern between them myself either, when I examined the missing posters. Well, apart from them all occurring in Central Hyrule that is." Ember frowned. Little help that was, given how vast the region spanned.

"The reporter who's gone missing too, a-" This pause was unlike the others, still awkward but more abrupt. Ember cleared his throat and pretended to ignore the flush of his face, "a... charming lady by the name of Cherri, began her search by following in the steps of the victim just before her.

"Josephine Burke was her name: a self-proclaimed Treasure Hunter. She came to this very stable to brag about her latest success story the night before her disappearance." A fist curled at his chin then, a look of perplexity knotting his eyebrows. "After Cherri decided she was done interviewing everyone about her for more details, she took off South-West. Endai was out and about collecting mushrooms for Gotter about that time too, and said he saw her enter some woodland just east of Lake Kolomo."

"Not that I know what business she could possibly have in there," He grumbled, more to himself than anything. "I'm pretty sure poor ol' Dampé settled around there somewhere in recent years, but he so rarely shows his face I honestly have no idea if he's still about."

A realisation struck him then and he quickly looked back up at Rowan with an apologetic smile. "Right! You might not know the guy! Word is he was a wandering gravekeeper for much of his life: grim business but honourable stuff. It's thanks to him that so many of our dead got a respectable burial after-... well, everything Hyrule has been through." A shadow fell across his face then and he sighed again. "I don't think I ever caught him asking anyone for payment. He just did what he did as he came across the... bodies. Gave them rest. So I thought it only right to give him a free meal whenever he passed through, at the very least. He wasn't really the conversational type - understandably so: the most we ever talked was when I caught him admiring our Great Goddess Statue painting. Makes sense that he'd be the religious type."

With another huff Ember expelled the collecting clouds of melancholy and shrugged, "But I'm rambling on! Who knows, maybe Cherri was just passing through the woods and it wasn't her destination at all." He grimaced at the thought but ultimately decided it best to end things with that caveat, just in case he led his colleague astray with his meandering conjectures. It was easy to lose a lone traveller in the wilds, and it wasn't as if he'd sent someone to tail her either. ...Maybe he should've.

"Take care out there, Rowan," When Ember spoke again it was with a great weight of cautious sincerity. Clapping down one warm, firm hand upon their shoulder, he tried his best to summon his most encouraging smile. "-if you really do head out that way. You know as well as the rest of us how dangerous wooded areas like that are, even without a serial killer on the loose."

[Jens]

Should. Help.

The words were not spoken aloud, though he did hear them as if they were. Startled, Randio looked up to see where his companion was. He had no name for her, because either she could not communicate it or refused to. Communication between them was difficult to begin with. Because actual words coming through was a rarity. Sometimes all that would pop up in Randio's mind would be abstract concepts, maybe certain emotions. And that is how this spirit would "talk" to him. But those two words were loud and clear. As if he heard an actual voice.

Randio's eyes drifted towards the counter of the stable, manned by Ember. A dark haired woman, not much older than him, was standing by the counter, her eyes fixated on something written on paper. Randio picked it up and started reading as he started walking back towards the bed he called his for the night. He groaned, his body was still sore.

"Missing persons? Heroes needed? What's this?", he said softly, the questions intended for both himself and the dark haired woman. He looked up from the pamphlet and she was there, staring at him intently.

We. Help.

Randio's eyes kept moving between the paper and  his ghostly companion. Obviously he felt compelled to help out in finding this journalist and perhaps even find the other missing people. There was nothing that held him back from a moral standpoint. Before yesterday, he would have jumped up and ran out of the stable already.
But that was before yesterday.

The young Hateno boy had arrived at the stable late at night, wounded and distraught. He had left home and headed westwards, chasing rumours of people that could help him with his spectral affair. The journey throughout the Necluda region had gone without a hitch. He knew the province like the back of his hand, thanks to what his folks had taught him throughout the years. He knew which roads were safe. He knew where to find certain types of food. He knew how to deal with its dangers. Which fights to pick and which to avoid. But everything west of the Dueling Peaks was new territory to him. And yesterday's events really helped reinforce that fact. A group of bokoblins had managed to catch him off guard while he was foraging for food. Bokoblins should have been easy to deal with, but the element of surprise and the home disadvantage turned the odds against the young redhead. Nevertheless, he managed to at least wound most of them before getting away. One of them would have to live with nasty burn scars, though that particular 'blin managed to repay the favour by cutting Randio to the side. The boy had managed to keep himself alive through magic, while running until he found anything resembling a settlement. His wounds had fully healed by the end of the night. But the process had drained him even further, and he needed more rest to fully recover. He had even spent a decent amount on food to regain his strength as quickly as possible. The incident had shook him, and Randio caught himself feeling apprehensive to spring to action because of it.

"I-", he began, still speaking softly, given that to anyone else he'd seemingly talking to nobody but himself, "I'm not sure. I want to, but..."

The woman pointed towards the pamphlet, particularly putting emphasis on the "HEROES URGENTLY NEEDED" part of the text. Randio looked up towards her, feeling blood run to his cheeks. Was his mind playing tricks on him, or did she just wink?

He needed to do this. Innocent lives were at stake. And he did not want to disappoint the person he had promised to help. If he could take it upon himself to help her, then he could at least try to help more people.

Someone had arrived at the stable to deliver some goods. Some trader of sorts, Randio reckoned, or perhaps someone associated with the network, given the clothing. Ember struck up a conversation with them, which soon seemed to turn serioust. Randio managed to catch bits and pieces of it, and it was apparent they were talking about the missing persons case. Then there was something that piqued his interest in particular. Ember mentioned something about a gravekeeper. Someone who laid spirits to rest. Perhaps this Dampé could help put Randio's friend's soul to rest.

"Excuse me!", Randio exclaimed before he approached the two. "I heard you talking, and..." He turned towards the person with the cart. "ARE you heading towards those woods? If you are, perhaps I could join you for a bit? I want to investigate these disappearances, and I also need to speak to this gravekeeper, if we can find him. I can help protect your cart along the way. I know how to fight. Only if you are willing, of course."

[LuckyBlackCat]

Rowan listened to the elaboration, their eyebrows drawing together. Apprehension prickled up their spine. If Ember wasn't talking them out of this, the situation had to be dire indeed.

"Dampé? I think I vaguely know him." They recalled seeing the taciturn old man a few times around the stables, although less so in recent years. "Not that we ever really talked either. Can't blame him, taking on a job like that." An admirable yet tough duty... no wonder the guy had sought the peace of a remote woodland dwelling. Realisation settled heavy over Rowan that this Cherri may well have sought to ask him if he'd found any more bodies. They could only hope for the sake of everyone involved that he hadn't.

"Take care out there, Rowan."

As Ember squeezed their shoulder, Rowan returned his smile with a faint one of their own and nodded. "Will do. Watching my back in the wilderness is something I'm used to, after all." Back at Rito Stable, where very little had grown, workers had needed to do a fair amount of hunting and foraging for supplies, which meant keeping alert for monsters and aggressive wild animals alike. Even if Hyrule was no longer the war zone it had once been, there was a good reason why many travellers still carried weapons.

Glancing out of the doorway, Rowan drew in a deep breath. No matter how vigilant they remained, they were still only one person - and hardly the valiant, battle-hardened hero the Gazette had requested. Had others taken interest in the case? Part of them hoped so, given how dangerous this mission would be... and part of them hoped not, for the same reason. Yet deep down, they knew that going it alone would be foolish, that the search would in all likelihood require a team to look out for each other. "Will anyone else be heading out?"

"Excuse me!"

They turned at the sound of a voice. An auburn-haired youth approached, immediately expressing willingness to take on the case. Rowan responded with a grim nod, noting the sword and dagger at his belt. "If you're certain. Fair warning, it doesn't exactly sound like it'll be a walk in Sanidin Park." Not only was Ember right that people had to urgently look into this case, this newcomer seemed to have his own personal reasons for seeking out Dampé.

"Lake Kolomo's just a short distance from here, so I won't be needing the cart, but safety and strength in numbers will still help. Once we're ready, let's ask Dampé if he can point us in the right direction." Hopefully the gravekeeper wouldn't inform them it was too late for any of the victims, they thought but didn't voice. "I'm Rowan, by the way. And your name is?"

[Jens]

"Rowan, that's a nice name." Randio said to his new travelling companion. He gave a little bow as he started introducing himself. "My name is Randio. Randio Osin, from Hateno. Nice to meet you. And thank you for allowing me to come along."

From the corner of his eye, Randio saw someone jumping off of Rowan's cart. Turning his head, he saw the familiar spirit, with what seemed to be a look of disappointment on her face. Randio raised an eyebrow.

Too bad we're not taking the cart. But... it's not like Poes get tired, right?
He was never really sure if she could hear his thoughts one way or another. Speaking aloud seemed to be more effective. But given that she narrowed her eyes to glare at him, he was certain she was aware of what his facial expression meant.

He turned back to address Rowan. "So, we're going by foot then, I'm assuming. Would you take the lead? I'm afraid I'm less familiar with the area than I would like."

He tried to sound as confident as possible, despite the admittance of being a fish out of water. His wounds had completely healed, but the process had drained his stamina and magical energy. He was unsure of whether he could perform at full capacity, and doubted that he could use any magic at all for time being. He was going to have to rely on his wits, his weapons, and the stranger before him.

Randio started taking in said stranger. His eyes quickly fell on the bow and quiver that hung around Rowan's shoulder. "I think with the two of us, we should be fine. I'll go gather my stuff, and then we can leave. If there's any more details about this investigation that you might have to fill me in on, you can do so once we get going. Again, thank you for letting me come along."
He turned to Ember. "And thank you for the hospitality."

[LuckyBlackCat]

"It's no trouble." Despite the situation that loomed ahead of the two, Rowan gave Randio a little smile. The youth showed clear eagerness to help out, no matter the danger. "Thank you in turn for assisting."

Randio's head rapidly turned in the direction of the cart outside, his eyebrow quirking as if he'd spotted something, or someone. Yet as Rowan looked out, they noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Puzzled, they tilted their head. It had probably just been another escaped Cucco trotting about.

They nodded as Randio addressed them once more, asking if they'd lead. "If we follow the road to the west, we'll get there before long." Clenching their gloved hands, they steeled themself for the journey ahead, and whatever awaited them and Randio at their destination. "Well, let's get this over with."

Once Randio had gathered his belongings, the pair set off along the path, Rowan relaying the information Ember had provided. "Gazette scoundrel or not, I hope it's not too late," they murmured, turning left at one of the many forks in the road with trudging footsteps. Amidst hills and crags, the edge of the forest came into view. Straying from the beaten path towards the canopy, Rowan unstrapped the bow from their back just in case.

Here went nothing.

Their sharp gaze darted from side to side as they crept through the sun-dappled woodland. If the culprit lurked here, the shadows and thick tree trunks would provide ample concealment. More than a few times, they tensed at flickers of movement, rustles in the grass and shrubbery, only for their sources to reveal themselves as deer skittering in the distance. Not that Rowan let their guard down - even deer could turn hostile if they perceived potential threats.

At a spitting sound, they leapt aside, narrowly dodging a large rock that shattered against a tree. Stinging shrapnel pelted them. With a grunt, they whipped an arrow from their quiver and nocked it. "Octoroks." Pulling the bowstring taut, they stared around for the hidden foe... or, more likely, foes. Where there was one, there'd probably be several.

[El]

WHOOOSH soared another sodden rock, whizzing overhead in a comet-tail of splattering dirt and sparkling saliva. Even if it'd missed, the adventuring duo was undoubtedly being targeted. However, unlike the other projectile it had soared from the opposite direction: Rowan had been correct in their suspicions, there wasn't just one Octorok but two.

In quick succession the first Octorok fired off another shot.

It missed. Again. Perhaps it was a few inches closer this time, but the aim was still poor. Or maybe... it was intentional? Even the projectiles they fired from their bulging snouts were more the size of apples rather than the hulking, concussion-inducing boulders Octoroks were oft known for. Malnutrition perhaps?

...But that seemed unlikely. Their size was - on the contrary - a touch larger than usual specimens. And though it was tough to see for certain, given their swift movements and erratic emergence patterns, there was a flash of something about their bulbous heads. Something colourful. Something tied with delicate intent.

...Ribboned bows? Ha! Surely not... right?


There was noise outside.

Crocheted blanket still nestled upon the crooks of her elbows, Cherri stood before the barred window and sipped at her fresh brew. A humming purr of satisfaction tickled her throat as it warmed, and through the swirling pillar of steam she peered. And peered. Squinted even. Alas, stare as she did into the dense, lush foliage of her surroundings, there was nothing more to ascertain: the disturbance must've been near the edge of the woods.

Darling Dampé had spoken often of his two most beloved pets, Octavian and Ursula. Proud and diligent creatures they were, these guardsquid: natives that he'd tamed with that gentle spirit of his - and ample treats of fresh fish too, of course. Cherri had sprained her ankle dodging one of their greeting gifts upon first entering this place, but even as the gravekeeper tended to her injury he had assured her they'd never truly meant any harm. They also enjoyed sparring on occasion, to keep their skills honed so as to more effectively drive out unwanted visitors. But that was only during rainy mornings when threats were rarer and the environment pleasantly damp for optimal lubrication.

But it was not morning, and nor was it raining. Cherri deduced she was not hearing a playful bout, but rather a raised alarm. Someone - or something - was intruding.

The Sheikah's eyes flashed towards a closed door, but the man behind it continued to snore, safely nestled in blankets no doubt, as a bass deep and mighty rumbled through the shoddy plankwork and rattled a loosely-fastened bolt - he still insisted on locking it. Perhaps she could've knocked and alerted him to the event... but the journalist thought better of it. At least for now. It could just be a panicked deer afterall and what a horrid thing it'd be, to wake a hardworking man from his much-needed slumber just to peep in foggy delirium at some disturbed bushes and pellet poop! She did not have the heart for that.

And so Cherri took another deep mouthful of her tea, and idly lamented on Dampé's depressing lack of stronger tipples. Could you even call it a warming, morning drink, if it had not been spiked with fermented delights? The flavour was shallow and all too gentle. Her stomach gurgled in disappointed agreement and she sighed. She should visit Sable once all of this blew over. That beauty of a Rito always knew how to source the best sauce, and it was clearly imperative that Cherri became accustomed to carrying a flask of emergency liquor.

OH! There went another crash of a splattering stone!

Goodness, they were really getting into it.

[Jens]

Randio felt the hairs on his neck rise up as the spat up stone flew right past his head. Rowan was quick to react, having an arrow already nocked on their bow. Randio, still standing still like a statue, cursed under his breath as the crumbling pieces of rock rained upon him.

"Octoroks.", Rowan exclaimed. Randio could feel his stomach turn as the meaning of the word set in. Unpleasant memories started coming to the surface. Him being dragged into watery depths. His sister was the one to save him that day.

"For Din's sake...", he muttered as he quickly started moving in the direction the projectile came from. He remembered what his family told him about dealing with Octoroks. A decent shield could block their attacks. If skilled enough, one could even deflect the stones back to their regurgitators. Shieldless as he was, Randio would have to apply alternative measures. His father's words echoed through his mind. "Defense is about simply not getting hit." Something Randio always thought was interesting, for sparring with his father always felt more like fighting an inpenetrable wall than a fast moving object.

As Randio approached the lakeside, he heard two successive spitting sounds. As he turned towards the direction of the sound, he saw two figures quickly descending into the water, and two fresh rocks flying through the air. Staying on the move, Randio barely managed to evade both by a hair, though he wasn't entirely spared from pain, as he felt shrapnel hit against his back. Keeping an eye on the water, he attemped to see if he could make out any moving shapes, hoping to predict where the monsters would appear next. He took a few steps back from the water, keeping in mind his previous experiences with the creatures.

One of the Octoroks popped up, not far from where Randio had assumed one of them would appear, immediately spitting up another stone. The redhead outstretched his right arm towards the monster, tried to call upon the small spark of magical energy he believed he had left in him, and... nothing. Surprised, it took him a moment to react to the projectile hurling towards him. As he attempted to step aside, it hit him right in his left side, nearly knocking him off his feet. Randio's face turned into a pained grimace, and he grunted as he clutched to his side.

Be. Careful.

"Got to... keep moving.", he softly said to himself. "Rowan!", he started shouting. "If I can keep their attention on me, would you be able totake them out?"

Randio hoped the answer would be yes. Any scenario he could think of where he could do any damage towards the creatures involved him getting into the water, and he would rather avoid doing anything close to even doing that.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Alert for further attacks, Rowan followed Randio towards the lake. The moment they heard the telltale spitting noise, they jumped aside just as their comrade did, two rocks hurtling past the spots where the duo had stood and smashing against trunks with loud thuds. They hissed in pain through gritted teeth as shards sprayed across their back. Ahead, the water rippled, bulbous shapes submerging.

Was it just them, or had those projectiles been smaller than the boulders Octoroks usually fired? Were the creatures juveniles, or undernourished? No, that couldn't be it, if anything they'd appeared larger than average. Nonetheless, it wasn't a reason for either them or Randio to lower their guard. The rocks were still sizeable enough to break bones or knock a person out cold.

Placing their feet apart, Rowan scanned the water, bow readied for any shadows under the surface. Those creatures certainly knew how to hide - and how to act fast. As they focused on the area where they were sure one of them had risen, another popped up a short distance away, letting loose another stone. They whirled around to see Randio stagger back, hunched over, pressing his hand to his side.

"Shit! Randio!" Shifting their focus back to the enemy, they loosed the string. The arrow sailed through the air, striking the Octorok a split second before it could dive. With a squeak, it flipped back and burst into a cloud of foul purple gas.

Rowan blinked. It was difficult to tell through the fumes, but had something colourful just fluttered into the lake alongside remnant tentacles? There was no time to look closer. Although a grimace spread over their features at the plan Randio announced, to keep enemy attention on him while Rowan aimed at them, they nodded.

"Just be careful," they called. How fast would Randio be able to dodge, injured as he was? Did only one Octorok remain, or did others lurk out of sight along with it? "I'll get them as fast as I can." Nocking another arrow, they studied the surface of Lake Kolomo once more.

[Jens]

Grateful that Rowan was quick to react, Randio blurted out a quick "Thank you!", before shifting his attention back to the lake, searching for any sign of movement. He started rummaging through his backpack, eventually pulling out a small knife.

"Just be careful.", Rowan called out. "I'll get them as fast as I can."

For a moment, Randio's gaze fell upon the spot where the fallen Octorok originally was. Something colourful could be seen between whatever was left of the monster, though Randio could not entirely make out what it was. His focus went back to scanning the lake, as he started pacing, hoping to provoke an attack. He got closer and closer to the edge of the water.

Left!

Splash! The Octorok indeed appeared relatively left of Randio, fairly close, ready to spit out another rock. Realising he had to act quickly, Randio threw his knife at the tentacled beast with all his might. Sadly, the knife hit the monster handle-first, rather than with the pointy end. However, this seemed to catch the Octorok by surprise, leaving some time before it would go back down again. The sound of an arrow whizzing through the air quickly followed, and it struck true.* Before it disappeared into a puff of smoke, Randio could see something colourful attached to the monster. It remained, floating on the water. A scarf? Perhaps belonging to one of the victims?

A sigh of relief escaped Randio's mouth. He waited, staying silent for a moment, looking for any remaining signs of hostile presence. All remained quiet and peaceful.

Randio turned to Rowan with a grin. "Thanks again. I owe you.", he said. "You're damn good with that bow. Now..." He gestured towards the Octorok remains with his head. "Think these guys have anything to do with the missing people?"


*@Cat I usually ask for permission to auto and will do so in the future. I hope you don't mind

[LuckyBlackCat]

As soon as Randio stunned the second Octorok, Rowan let fly with another arrow. The monster whistled its last breath, flopped, and exploded into a billow of smoke.

In a swift and fluid movement despite the welling aches, Rowan replaced the projectile, keeping their gaze firmly trained on the lake for any more hidden attackers. The surface remained undisturbed, yet brightly-coloured strips of fabric did indeed float there. "Huh..." Rowan moved closer, a heavy and foreboding sensation growing in the pit of their stomach. Once sure that no more threats remained, they placed the arrow back in their quiver and used the bow's tip to drag one of the items towards the edge. Crouching and plucking it from the water, they frowned. A hair ribbon? That could only mean one thing for the victims.

Randio shared their concerns. "Think these guys have anything to do with the missing people?"

Rowan let out a resigned sigh. "I hope not, but..." They clutched the sodden ribbon. "Let's face it. This doesn't look good for them." They pulled out the second accessory, imagining how the victims' families would react if their and Randio's suspicions were true. Best to hold on to these, not just for the investigation, but to provide some level of closure and remembrance if it came to that.

As they stood, they winced, the welts on their back and shoulder that would leave some severe bruises flaring. "Are you alright?" They glanced at Randio's left side. Small as the rocks had been, Rowan didn't doubt their ability to crack ribs. "That was a nasty hit you took."

Wiping a trickle of blood from a cut on their jaw, they peered into the woodland's shadows, at a telltale flicker of a hearth-lit window. Not only had the two almost reached their destination, they were in luck, if they could call it that given the situation. For all Ember's uncertainty, Dampé still resided there. "Well, we're here." Rowan gestured towards the hut's silhouette. "Let's ask Dampé what he knows."

[El]

A breeze whistled through the woods, carrying with it a floral-fresh sweetness. In the absence of the guardsquid, a tranquil quiet had emerged, draping the sun-dappled foliage as it swayed in hushed whispers. The plentiful shadows were warm. The rippling lake glittered. Somewhere in the distance a small bird tweeted.

Apprehensive though they may be, as the duo pressed on deeper into Kolomo's woodland the atmosphere was far from oppressive. Even when graves began to loom into view, ashen grey slabs standing tall and proud above mounds of moss and curling vines... they were clean. Neat. Cared for. Clustered wreaths of snowdrop-white lilies and silent princesses were laid upon them in respectful rest. While many of the gravestones were largely unmarked, all of them had inscribed upon them a winged motif of Hylia. The chisel had evidently been shaky - clumsy - but the sincerity was obvious. Just as evidently, several of the graves were fresh: one barely even touched by grass-seed, its disturbed dirt half-sodden by still drying moisture.

With a startled peep, a bushy-tailed squirrel scurried by. Beyond its warm fluff emerged in full a shaded cottage of thick-logged lumber and cobbled foundations. Up to the wonky steps of its shoddy plank door wove a well-trodden path of trampled grass. And indeed, the hearth-lit window Rowan had spied from some distance away still flickered now with the warm crackle of fire. The majority of its light was blotted however, obstructed by the silhouette of a woman draped in blankets as she peered through bars and cloudy glass.

"Good afternoon, darlings." Purred a sultry voice: the windowpane had been slid slightly ajar. Through wisps of tea-steam her cherry-red eyes narrowed, curling at their corners with rapt curiosity. "Goodness, you look like you could do with a cuppa yourselves," Her brow puckered in concern. "I'd invite you in, but well-..." Attention drifting to observe the bars of her 'cell' she sighed - softly - and took another deep mouthful of her brew. "The gentleman here is possessively fond of my company." A small giggle escaped her then, its notes coloured by... flattery? It was difficult to catch however, rumble as the cottage did then by a booming snore from deep within.

"The door is locked, and he has the key."