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Jerome
Jerome apparently doesn't hear Urdur. Before the echoes die, he's sprinting in the direction of the screaming woman. Anyone getting in his way will either be dodged or swatted with the flat of his blade, just to get them out of his way.

Blackchapel, Hookhill, Gran March, Greyhawk
Day One. Night. Saturday, December 24th, 576 CY
Cold, overcast







Suddenly, the dark streets of Blackchapel are pierced by a bloodcurdling scream!

Urdur weaves a subtle incantation of deception and renders himself unseen to mortal eyes! He searches the alley for Bold Dell and finds himself alone.

Meanwhile, the rest of the doomed heroes race through the slum-warren of despair, in search of the piteous wailing. Faron guides Mouser who had been blinded by witches. Long Bo loses track of Ajax in the fog and shadow of the labyrinthine Devil's Acre.

After agonizing, harrowing minutes, they find the shrieking woman (M); Mary the young prostitute they used as a stalking horse.




She stands in an alley, over the ghastly ruin of what was once a woman.




And Mary cannot stop screaming.


Actions?!


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Mouser reaches the woman screaming quietly coming up behind her. "Good god...." is all he can muster while holding back the vomit in his throat.

Bo lets the others try to calm the woman while he looks around the alleyway for any rats or other vermin nearby that might have seen what happened here.

If he sees any rats, and the coast is clear from any onlooking inquisitors, he will attempt a spell to Speak with them.

"Did any of you see what took place with this poor woman? Food will be offered as a reward for any accurate information."

Urdur searches the body of the thug that Jerome cut down, doing his best to remain vigilant against any further attacks from the likes of Bold Dell. Then he follows the sound of screaming to join his companions.

Jerome
Jerome rushes up, stumbling to a stop when he finds the murder scene. Which way? he demands of Mary.
Even while he's asking, Jerome is looking for any sort of blood trail that might have been left by the killer.

Even after all the battles he's been in, Telkis has rarely seen a sight this upsetting. He glances once, then looks away scanning for clues, footprints, anything that might tell where the killer has gone.

Blackchapel, Hookhill, Gran March, Greyhawk
Day One. Night. Saturday, December 24th, 576 CY
Cold, overcast







Mouser's vision returns and immediately, he wishes it hadn't. "Good god..." he rasps. Then he closes his mouth before his stomach empties through it.

"Lovely sight, innit?" a rat chuckles blackly at the dreadful mutilation of a woman. "I expect the poor dear will be providin' us wif plenty of food."



The grey druid had cast an incantation to converse in the ancient language of rats. He and Telkis hear one of the swarming vermin in the alley squeal, "I saws the whole fing. They were almost Men. They kilt her and ate of her and took wet sticky parts of her..."

Ingrid comforts Mary and she falls still. In the grip of horror, the young prostitute neither answers Jerome's query, nor notices Bo's black witchcraft.

"Who's there? He wif you?" the rat asks, indicating the empty mouth of the alley. Unbeknownst to the doomed heroes, Urdur stands there, invisible.

The rat continues, nodding north. "Anyway, they went that way. You'd better hurry if you wants to catch them. You can leave this sweet morsel in our tender keeping. Payment for our service. Like you promised."

Jerome and Telkis can confirm part of the rat's story. Fresh drops of blood and a heel print lead north from the horrific crimson remains.


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It's the grisliest thing Faron has seen in his life. He wonders what kind of fiend or fiends could do that. Let's go, before they get to far away.

Long Bo looks around for anything else out of the ordinary before taking off after Faron.

"They were almost men. They went that way! Follow the blood drops!"

"If you are staying behind to comfort Mary, try to figure out which body parts they took from the poor thing."

Mouser shakes the fog of horror from his mind. As he too quickly searches the area for any further clues before following. "Almost men?" he asks, "That's what they said? What does that mean? I guess whatever it means it's not gonna be 'almost dead' for them - it's gonna be all dead!"

Faron
We need the full crew where we're going! Nobody should stay behind. Bring Mary with us!

Ingrid Esthof

Knowing time is precious and they need to hurry if they hope to catch the killer, Ingrid decides to take the time to cast a spell that will hopefully provide more information than they got from the rat. Speaking divine words of power, the cleric begins conversing with the mutilated body! I am so sorry for what happened to you, but I have a few questions to ask that might help us find your attacker. My name is Ingrid. What is your name? Can you tell me anything about who did this to you? How many there were, what they looked like. Did you know them? And- I hate to ask this question- but there is a lot of damage, and it appears that not all your insides are...well...inside. Can you tell what is missing? Do you know of anyone who might have wished you harm? Do you have family in town who we could let know what happened to you?

"Catch up to us. Bring the girl, don't leave her alone," says Telkis as he hurries after the trail of blood, only too happy to leave the sight of the mutilated girl behind. And very much not wanting to hear her speak, if she still can...

Jerome
jerome is in full vengeful Paladin mode- as soon as he sees the blood trail, he's off, running in pursuit of the killers.

Urdur follows the others, chasing whatever killed the poor woman. He wonders what the rats could have meant by referring to them as "almost men."

I'm here too, you guys, he says to the others.

Faron feels responsible for Mouser. It was his blunder that caused his blindness.

Blackchapel, Hookhill, Gran March, Greyhawk
Day One. Night. Saturday, December 24th, 576 CY
Cold, overcast







And then, when things couldn't be more horrendous, the macabre horror of mutilated flesh, blood and bone starts to speak!

"... Am I still alive???...," it asks.

Minutes ago, the doomed heroes raced north in search of the heinous culprits, the "almost men" - all but Ingrid and Mary. The priestess prayed over the grisly ruin for fraught minutes. And then the unspeakable necromancy of Ingrid the Damned animates the sickening cadaver in a ghastly mockery of human life!

"...My God... Please, what's happened to me?...," the hideous thing cries.

Mary screams without stopping.

Ingrid asks the horrific cadaver, "Can you tell me anything about who did this to you?"

The dreadful atrocity answers. "...I... It happened so fast... There were three of them at least and... Their eyes. Their teeth.... I don't think they were human!... My God. I'm dead, aren't I?... Please, no. I'm only 25..."

Ingrid persists, "Do you know of anyone who might have wished you harm?"

"...Bold Dell and his gang... Said we owed them half our wages... If we didn't pay, we'd be sorry..."

The swarming rats will wait no longer. The diseased vermin claim their payment and feast upon the living corpse!

"...No! Please! Help me!..." the bloody ruin begs as she is being devoured "alive."

Mary's screams escalate into pitched madness. She faints dead away, plunging to the bloody stones.

Suddenly, a constable whistle is heard close by!


Actions, Ingrid?!





Meanwhile, in the warren-like maze of depravation to the north, the adventurers stop their frantic pursuit. They've lost the trail of fresh blood. The echo of their footfalls on the mist-shrouded cobblestones is the only sound. No other soul walks the desolate streets, and the black shadows all around them are vibrant with menace.


Actions, everyone?!


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Jerome
Jerome looks in all directions, frantically seeking the villain. Show yourself! Come out of the shadows, you bloody-handed bastard! Fight me!!
The glow of the wine has burned away, and all that's left is righteous rage.

Telkis skitters to a stop. Hearing the constable whistle and the party having lost the trail, he comes to a realization.

"Garl's finely knit trousers...they're going to think we did this," he says.