The #Broken_Dagger Forum

It was late, and the moon was floundering as it began to wax. Even with the improving light it was still dim on the hill tonight. That was most certainly a boon. A group of six men took advantage of shadows to scuffle out of the farmlands and towards the headstone of their focus. It belonged to one Joseph O'Cynen, and five of the men were carrying shovels.

It was dirty work, in more than one sense, and several of them made religious symbols in the air before them prior to driving their spades into the dirt, while the last turned his attention to watching for anyone approaching. It took time, but they were being sloppy about it and there was enough of them to expidite the matter, thus it was quick enough that the thud of metal against the wood of the coffin came, and their was a collective release of tension as they realized their job was nearly done.

Dirt was haphazardly knocked aside as one threw his tool away and wrapped his fingers under the coffin lid to force it aside. There was a chorus of coughing, and one stumbled away to vomit. This earned a very mellow chuckled from his comrades as they dragged out a small tarp and wrapped the body of the deceased Joseph up. Then with a good bit of manuevering the corpse was free of the grave and the ragtag lot were moving back into farmlands.

The grave was left terribly disturbed, it seemed the culprits wanted the damage to be found. And there was a noticable trail leading off towards the east as it dodged around various farm houses. Once the woods were reached however the trail would simply soak up and vanish into the trees, even the scents and broken branches were gone.

"So you see, Captain, they wanted us to find this," observed Sergeant Holsted, one of the Order of Straka's best trackers. It hadn't taken him more than simply walking to the spot to come to the conclusion, just as it hadn't taken the three members of Straka long to discover and travel out to the scene of the crime. Joseph's grave had been on a solitary hill next to his wife under a stout tree, a spot that Ariel O'Cynen frequented in the mornings.

"I see," replied Captain Daniels. That did look fairly apparent to him, as well.

Meanwhile, the other guardsman, Corporal Ujikah, was tending to a couple of search dogs scouting the area.

"Just like Sergeant Hickensen's trail, it leads off into the forest. And they wanted you to find that one, too."

The Captain nodded, biting his lip. The abduction of Hickensen he could point a finger at Councilor Roschen for, but this...what purpose did this serve? "All right, Sergeant. See what you can find here."

"What are you going to do, Captain?"

"I'm going to go make friends with the wolves of the forest. And then we're going to find the bastards responsible."

Grave robbing a respected man definitely did not sit well with the Captain's morals, and it didn't help his mood much to have a crying Ariel O'Cynen visiting them so early in the morning. Thomas departed the pair, heading back to the Straka offices. There was one man he'd been trying to avoid bringing into this mess for as long as he could, considering the other man had left Myrken Wood specifically for reasons like this.

But alas, the Captain needed Robert Sullivan, friend of the wolves.

No doubt Straka, or even the O'Cynen's themselves, would have left a man or two to guard the property after recent events. This would leave the question as to how exactly a note had found its way onto the kitchen table during the course night. It really mattered little however, what was more important was what the scraggily writing stated;

Dear little Ariel,

We know you're likely deeply saddened by the loss of your father a second time, and would love to remedy this situation. If you'd like to have him returned we need some questions answered. If you're willing to assist us please leave some white fabric hanging from your bedroom window tonight.

And to show our sincerety and concern for your happiness we have returned some of your father to you.

Holding the letter in place on the table would be the rotten through finger of what could only be assumed to be Joseph O'Cynen