RP:A Vampire and a Zombie Walk into a Swamp

Summary: Ernest and Rilla run into each other while separately searching for a powerful missing Orc and his ring in the Gualon swamps. They test a spell and swap rumours for the betterment of the cause.

Ernest trudged through the swamp, yet again, looking for discarded corpses. Perhaps surprisingly, this time he wasn't checking up on one of his necromantic experiments, but instead finally following through on that job he'd been given by Terra. The mummy had so far been able to keep his boots dry with a unique combination of cantrips that hardened the mud under his feet, at the cost of having to use his spellbook to do so. Of course, he still had to search the swamp itself by hand--fortunately, he had several of those. Every so often, a skeletal hand wreathed in shadow would pop out of the muck and give a thumbs-down, so Ernest would gesture to another spot in the swamp and the disembodied hand would mime a salute before diving back into the muck and swimming over. This was rather more Helpin' Hands than Ernest was used to commanding, but it had quite a lovely sort of appeal to it. Having minions, that is. He could get used to something like this, it was like being in multiple places at once without actually having to get dirty. Still, it'd be nice if one of them actually -found- something. If he didn't have any success soon, he was going to have to start interrogating people and making a scene, and as he recalled the last time he made a scene on a job it resulted in him losing further contracts with that group. Still, could be worse: he could be down there in the mud himself.

Rilla often heard whispers now in ways she never had when she’d been in these parts initially. Partly due to who she associated with, probably, but by virtue of being perpetually on the outside, she came away with more information than she ought to have. Though she didn’t know the details, Rilla had heard of a missing person in the area and although diplomacy and region-saving wasn’t her usual schtick, October was a slow month for adventures. She picked her way South from Xalious to a region she rarely made her way through even before. Finding the body was unlikely in and of itself, it was easier to track a living thing, but what else was there to do than try? With the added challenge of a swamp, she took to the trees along the edges, looking for something to give a hint where to look. Despite her strong desire not to march through a swamp, it was, in the end, inevitable. She pulled auburn curls up and back, away from her face, and removing her dagger and it’s sheath from where it was strapped to her thigh while she was still high, dry, and balanced with her back against the trunk of the tree she stood in. With that there was little else to do, and - not very quietly, mind you - she lowered herself from the branches and into the water with a splash and a curse at the feeling as it filled her boots. What’s done is done. Orienting herself, she quickly realized she wasn’t alone, her head cocked to one side as she froze, looking for the source of the sound only to creep closer. The water gave her away, made it impossible to be silent. “Hey,” she called out, certain that she’d be spotted anyway and entirely uncertain of what to say to explain why she was standing in a swamp like a creep in the first place.

Ernest may have been the first of his group to notice someone else here--that was the nice thing about being out of the mud, it was easier to hear--but not the first to locate her. That honor went to Helpin' Hand Mk. III #7, and it did so by wrapping its fingers tentatively around her ankle before releasing her, flying out of the mud and shooting several thumbs-ups and okay signs towards Ernest, snapping its fingers to get his attention. After several seconds of this, it froze, slowly turned around, seemed to realize that its catch was actually alive, then splayed out all its fingers briefly before plunging back into the mud and racing away so fast it created a little wake behind it. Ernest, of course, was having none of this as the hand flew into his pocket and tugged him towards her. "Coward," he grumbled. "Yer gettin' one o' th' Shades after this." Exactly what that was supposed to mean he left entirely up to the imagination, but it was said with the tone of voice of somebody firing an employee. Turning his attention back up to his guest, he tipped his hat to her. "Afternoon," he said, grinning in that real stiff way that only someone whose face has more in common with beef jerky than a bovine Steve Martin can pull off. "Somethin' I ken help you with?"

Rilla resisted the urge to yelp when something wrapped it’s hand around her ankle, clenching her jaw as she fought the water to jump away from it. Resisting sounds of surprise would do her absolutely no good given the amount of splashing involved in escaping through water. She wheeled around, brow furrowed in surprise at what she found. Instinctively she drew a blade from beneath her leather jacket, tucked it in her sleeve against her skin. Crystalline eyes flashed as she sized up the man, it wasn’t every day that the undead spoke to her. Although arguably she wasn’t entirely alive either. She tipped her head but didn’t take her eyes off the man, her stick sunk deep into the mud as she shifted it side to side absently. “A lady can’t take a walk through a swamp without needing a hand?” Rilla quipped. “Don’t worry, I’m not a lady. I heard a rumour and thought I’d see what it was all about.” Slender shoulders shrugged, she shifted her weight but couldn’t find a place to put her feet where the mud didn’t try to keep them there. “Who’s your friend, and why’s it want you to know I’m here?”

Ernest patted his pocket, still grinning. "Just a Helpin' Hand," he said, "albeit my latest model. Weren't you specially he was out t'find, I just told 'em t' look fer bodies. Yours happens t'still be in use, but it matches th' criteria I gave 'em. If y'get any more on ya, just shake 'em off, they'll get the idea." He flipped a couple of pages in his spellbook and placed his fingers on a number of different sigils, murmuring a command word under his breath. The mud in front of her hardened into something that would be less annoying to walk on, should she decide to take advantage of it. "Rumors, eh? Seems you an' me have somethin' in common. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." If he was going to be interrogating people about rumors and/or bodies, might as well be out here where there wasn't a scene to be caused. Probably better for his future paycheck that way.

Rilla reigned in her amusement, her mouth resisting the tug into a smile as she shot the strange man a pointed look, though she had to bite her tongue to give it any believability. “A helping hand …” she muttered, shaking her head. “What are they going to come up with next. Necromancers.” She tisked, and pulled her stick from the mud, testing the ground in front of her. Her eyes narrowed, she hooked her finger into the hole in the handle of her knife and released it, letting it swing for a moment before the throwing knife was replaced behind her back, hidden underneath her jacket (much like the variety of other blades that could often be found on her person). She took a tentative step up onto the more solid surface, eyeing Ernest cautiously, “thank you.” Rilla said after a moment, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t have details yet, that’s what I’m here for. I’m not a real treasure hunter, I just like answers.” She explained, testing the ground around her as she prodded it bit by bit with the stick she’d acquired. “But I’d heard whispers of a missing high priest and his missing ring. If I was going to hide a body, this would be the first place I’d do it.” She looked around them, briefly taking her eyes off of Ernest to scan the dark water. “Now you go,” she gave an upward nod in his direction, “what rumor are you chasing?”

Ernest made a gesture in her direction, and #7 flew out of Ernest's pocket and back down into the mud. After a moment or so, the hardened place under her feet would start to move as she did, taking shape underneath her as she put her foot down. One of the loveliest things about having magical minions was the way they could sort of automate his spells, after a fashion. "Well, y'ain't gonna like it, but I think y'jes' outlined th' basic premise of what brings yours truly out here as well." He shrugged. "Do have a bit more on it, jus' from my investigations, if you like. Got hired t'find that ring. Preferably th' orc attached to it, but th' ring's the big deal. Ordinarily, this sort of thing wouldn't be that much trouble fer me." He flipped to a different page in his spellbook and held it open to face her, showing the particular spell sigils he'd come up with for a person-location spell, which may or may not have meant anything to her. "Came up with a basic spell fer findin' a missin' person. Problem is, it ain't workin'. Not sure if it's th' spell, or if 'e's dead, or if somethin's jus' hidin' 'im, but my usual methods have thus far been rather fruitless."

Magic was truly one of the strangest things that had advanced since when she’d been here before. The age of weapons was over, everyone was a mancer. Rilla was hesitant, she peered into the murk the hand had disappeared to and then back up at the stranger, considering her options. She stepped closer to see his spell, head cocked to one side and she nodded slightly in understanding - though it was limited at best. “Well, I love a good mystery. I’ll bite.” She said after a moment, shrugging her shoulders. “Easy way to rule out if it’s the spell is to test it, then we’re down to three options: dead, hidden, or both.” She looked around them, what was most likely a bird catching her attention as it rustled through the leaves. “So, how do we test it out? Unless this is just what you do for fun and you’re killing time.”

Ernest grinned more widely; evidently something she'd said had given him a delightfully devilish (Seymour) idea. "Depends on how good y'are at dodgin'. Or catchin' small, fast-movin' objects. Or what yer pain tolerance is, I guess, failin' the other two. Y'gotta name?" Another Helpin' Hand poked itself out of his duster and handed him a crossbow bolt, which he took and dexterously twirled between his fingertips. "Mine's Ernest, incidentally. Ernest Crane, scheme consultant. I'd offer my card, but--oh!" With a flick of his wrist, the business card appeared in his hand like a stage magician revealing someone's seven of clubs from their sleeve. "Locator spell might work better this way, instead of tryin' t'shoot you with it. Still need a name, though."

Rilla rolled her eyes, a smile creeping over her features, crooked when it did make its appearance. “Rilla,” she said after a beat, “I won’t need a card. I’m pretty good at tracking down people who are above the dirt.” She waved her hand dismissively, resting her hands on her hips. “A scheme consultant, huh? Is that some kind of code, or do you just tell people what to do if they’re looking to cause trouble?” The idea was amusing, to say the least. She made her way deliberately through the swamp until she was under a tree with low enough branches for her to reach despite the constant wetness stripping the lowest boughs. “If there’s a chance you’re trying to hit me with things I’m not doing it in the water.” She explained as she grabbed the branch and pulled herself back up onto it and coming to standing with one hand rested on the branch above she shook off her boots one at a time before deciding they were too far gone and kicking one off and then the other and tying their laces together to leave them hanging off of the branch. “Alright, Ernest Crane, do your worst. Let’s see if your spell works.”

Ernest needed a moment to move the spell from the one object to the other anyhow, so her moving to climb the tree didn't bother him much. A look of intense concentration came over his desiccated face, and if one looked closely they might see him mouthing Rilla's name as he brute-forced the spell he'd placed earlier onto that crossbow bolt into his business card instead, modifying it in the process to seek her out. A few moments after she said she was ready, he went back to his relaxed posture and nodded. "Alright, here it comes," he announced, and then flicked the business card over his shoulder. Assuming he'd done his spellwork correctly, the card would only fall briefly before reorienting and hurling itself through the air towards Rilla, as the card had been given a seeking curse, intended to follow its target until dispelled. Of course, he still wasn't completely confident he'd gotten the aeromancy parts of this particular curse right. Most curses he simply delivered to his target via direct touch of the object; this one was much, much more abstract. So the chance of failure was not insignificant, but now at least Ernest had firsthand imagery of his target to work with -and- a name instead of just a name and a second- or third-hand description.

ROLLED D20

Rilla always wanted the birds-eye-view. A holdover from her days before she was a vampire, she was more comfortable in the trees than on the ground most days. She nodded when Ernest spoke, and watched out for the card as he flicked it and the spell began to take effect. With one hand wrapped around the branch above, the other free to catch it if it did come to her. To her surprise, the card came whizzing towards her. “Let’s make sure it will travel.” She decided in the split second before it reached her, offering an explanation before she swung herself through the branches, forcing the card to give chase. Rilla moved quickly, even for a vampire. Years physically running from your own sire would do that to someone, and although she had next to no control over it, a particularly long jump through shadow to reach the next branch ended with her disappearing into it only to reappear meters away within a different shadow, still swinging. With that, the card lost her, and although initially, she didn’t notice, when she’d gone a few hundred feet she checked to make sure she was still being pursued. Rilla returned before it did, plopping down on the branch she’d been perched on initially and shaking her head. “It was doing fine until I -” what had Magik called it? “I lost it when I shadow jumped. So we’re down to he’s dead or he’s hidden, I’d say.”

Ernest watched the flight intensely, but quickly realized they were going to leave his field of view sooner than anticipated. In a movement that seemed like it was missing a couple parts in the middle, Ernest had drawn a crossbow, loaded it with some kind of crossbow bolt--close examination later would reveal very intricate markings burned into the shaft--and fired it at that bird Rilla had glanced at earlier, burying the crossbow inside its body. Ernest froze, standing motionless, and a bolt of barely-visible darkness flew from his body to the bird's, where a wide-brimmed shadowy hat coalesced into existence atop its head. Awkwardly, as though the creature had never flown before, it spread its wings and struggled to gain altitude before eventually getting the hang of it and taking to the air to try and follow the chase. At first, Ernest reveled in the continuing success of this particular spell-bolt, but as he followed the chase it appeared that she was able to evade the business card without too much trouble. Still, it gave him very usable data. The card itself, he decided, after watching it fall into the mud, inert, was a lost cause. Wait, where was--Rilla was already returning to her previous location, crap. The hat vanished from the bird, and Ernest's senses returned to his own body just in time for her to finish her thoughts. "Sounds about right," he answered, nodding, trying not to let the disorientation of suddenly returning your awareness to your own body show. "Which brings us back to where we started--searchin' this swamp by Hand, unless you got a better idea?"

Rilla was too busy paying attention to the business card chasing her to register the bird, the whole chase took place fast and through tangles of branches. You wouldn’t know it from how calmly she sat perched in her original place, hands on either side of her. “Do we know where he was last seen and when? Any enemies?” She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s a stupid question, of course he had enemies. What enemies did he have?” Her legs swung back and forth, her socks wet and dirty from stomping in the swamp, but at least they weren’t heavy. Her jaw clenched as she considered their options. “If I remember correctly the swamp doesn’t end where we think it does, the brewery uses for a fungus farm.” She mused, eyes searching the empty air as she tried to jog her memory. “Now that would be a good place to put a body.”

Ernest hadn't quite gotten to that stage of the information-gathering yet, but it was next on his list. "Someone that high up? Could be anyone, honestly. Jealous of 'is position, unhappy with 'is ideology. Maybe revenge? Most I know is, his tribe is called th' Droghan. Happen to ring any bells? Maybe they got some enemy tribe that wanted 'em all in disarray." He scratched his chin in thought as the bird landed lightly on the brim of his hat. For a brief moment, he considered removing the spell-arrow, but eventually decided against it. "If they do, that'd be where we start, I 'spect."

Rilla nodded along, and then rapidly switched to shaking her head when asked if it rung any bells. “It doesn’t, but I’m sure we can find out.” Though she eyed the bird, Rilla didn’t comment, stranger things had happened around anyone who used magic. Although she might have to change her tune on the subject given recent developments. “They give tours, I’ll take one and find out how to get back in.” She continued, leaning her head over to one side to crack her neck, and then over the other way, she rolled her shoulders back, leaning back slightly, knuckles white as she held onto the branch beneath her before righting herself and getting back to her feet, her boots slung over her shoulder by their tied laces. “Do you think you can use a spell to find death instead of just a living person? Save us dragging the farm.” She shrugged, “anyway, I’m going to find some answers. If you want them too, let’s meet back here in a few days. And if you want to find me, I’m in The Sage or Vigilanti Semper.” With that she gave a nod and without leaving the trees started off back to the North at an easy clip.

Ernest considered the question. A spell to locate something dead... would probably fall more under necromancy, and probably involve rather a lot more reading (or at least asking one of his fellow guild members. Come to think of it, something like that was probably pretty commonly used. Maybe it'd even be in his guild textbook. "I'll get ta searchin' up somethin' fer locatin' a dead man, an' then if I'm -particularly- successful maybe I'll start knockin' some heads about this Droghan tribe, see what falls out." Made sense, if she was staking out their next searching place, he'd take it upon himself to find more information. "I'd offer my card again," he added quietly, as the card had his office hours as well as a list of other services besides scheme consulting (Curses and General Mayhem) but she'd already turned to go, "but you said y'ain't need it an' I ain't wastin' another to th' mud."