Chapter 2bis (Summer 1013). Refuge in the Peak District

There are the two specialists who are very reluctant to approach the battlefield, but equally reluctant to leave the party to get out of smell's range. And then there is Finn the Bard (@John_Graham_52 ) and possibly Thomas the Merchant (@darkwing ). No armed grogs.

The battlefield is huge; there are hundreds of corpses as far as you can tell, and you would have needed a score of grogs to make an effective guard.

I guess you end up together on the small hill overlooking the battlefield, watching the vulture going about its business. You approached from the East so you are near the floating lady. Feel free to act at any time.

Finn will wonder the battlefield taking it all in. He will inspect the White Lady in particular, all the while committing the scene to memory for future story creation. He will try to touch the White Lady and the staff below her.

Studying the white lady, Finn sees the pouches in her belt. Touching her, the dress, which is linen, feels as soft as linen should, and it waves gently in the wind. The body, on the other hand, is hard as rock and won't budge. She is kneeling, somehow, as she floats. The staff is beautifully adorned, and the embedded stone is as precious as only bishops, and kings, and magi would ever own.

Around her, there are several shield grogs still in expensive armour, while the other bodies you see have been ripped of theirs. You can sort of understand this; the white lady makes an eerie feel and it is almost as if she is watching guardedly. You can imagine, when you were younger, you would have fled too, but now this is not the first eerie experience you have.

If they are accessible Flynn will take the pouches, by cutting the cording tying them to her belt, and the staff. He will then back away and see if there is any response from the White Lady.

You can cut the pouches from her belt. They contain two small clay statues, five dried nuts, and three vials of unidentifiable potions. The lady does not even twitch. You don't like the look in her eyes, but then you don't think it has changed since you arrived.

Thomas the merchant looks on the battlefield, and crosses himself. "This was truly a brutal battle, I am glad to have missed the horror."

"Unless you have ways to identify magic things - show me what you found." She speaks in Latin, but translates to French if neither Hamish or Thomas volunteers to do it so that Finn understands.

She'll cast a simple InVi base 1, +1 touch, +1 conc spell to see whether any of those items contain vis. This is effortless casting in an aura of 1. If the clay statues seem to have enough details to represent a sympathetic, she looks them up in details and says "Memorize those. As we go through the battlefield, let me know if you think you see those who they represent. This may be important. Also see the bodies arround the lady here. There may have valuables. The rest of the battlefield looks looted, more or less."

She flies arround a bit, trying to see whether she spots any corpses that look like the statuettes and whether she finds burial grounds nearby that indicates at least some of the bodies were buried, or anything else of note at this point.

27 on an Per+Awa check, +3 if keen sense of smell is appropriate, assuming searching is a stress die, 10 otherwise.

Hamish joins Finn down near the floating lady. He looks at her closely, her clothing, gear, and manner as if trying to recall something.

(OOC: Roll of 4 on Diedne Lore to see if he recognizes her.)

The five pebbles and one of the vials contain vis. The figurines do not display a lot of detail; they resemble a buxom but non-descript woman with a long skirt. They are fragile and could easily be crushed in a hand.

The aerial scouting does not give an awful lot of useful information. Three or four months have passed and the bodies have been looted and turned over in the process, and expensive equipment removed. You sense the unfamiliar smells of legendary beasts who have been her, as well as the familiar foxes and crows who have found a meal. Many corpses have been burnt by fire or acid, judging by different smells.

Hamish recognise the white lady as Diana, one of the principal warlords of Diedne, probably the greatest on the island of Great Britain.

When Hamish draws near to the floating lady, his eyes widen and he stops abruptly, body tense, his stance shifting slightly toward readiness for combat. After a moment, the tall warrior turns to survey the battlefield again, eyes moving across the fallen differently than before, as if seeking for familiar faces among the dead.

After a moment he turns away from the lady and starts back toward the hill where he left the grogs. He now seems to avoid looking too closely at the corpses, his expression darker, drawn in to himself.

Cath'rinne sees the obvious reaction to the floating maga as a tell-tale sign that he knows something. She interrupts her flight and turns towards Hamish.

"You and I need to have a conversation." she says. If Hamish acquiesces, she leads him out of earshot.

Hamish looks at the flying maga and simply nods, following her to a location at a safe distance.

"That is Master Diana. That floating woman in white. She is… was high in the leadership of the… The Diedne House."

The tall man relaxes the grip he has on his sword hilt.

"I am sorry, milady. I am not Diedne. But I have served them as soldier. No. I served them as a captain of the turb. But no more …"

Hamish's voice trails off.

"I'm glad you got that off your chest. Why did you refuse to speak to me in the road?"

"Isn't it 'death on sight' to the Diedne here in Stonehenge?" replies Hamish to the maga-vulture. "I came south to survive not to be executed."

"Death to the Diedne, yes. I'm not sure the Order keeps track of former companions. I understand your fear though - and you need not wear that badge on your shirt. If you're loyal, I can shield you if a magi recognises you. But I want not just your sword but your knowledge as well. About the Diedne. Are we in agreement, Hamish?"

Hamish listens to the maga carefully, assessing what she says. When she finishes her statement, the big Scot considers her words for a moment.

"You want what I know about them." The red-haired man's eyes narrow.

"I am at your mercy, milady. But if I tell you what I know, you're puttin' yourself in a boilin' pot of trouble of your own. Right? Can't imagine the Order wants people studying the Diedne ways, do they?"

The vulture cackles, amused. "I haven't sworn not to study my enemies. If some object to that... well we'll see, won't we? The Order does afford its members privacy. So it's not as if what I do is anyone's business."

Hamish smiles at the vulture-maga and nods.

"Feels like I should trust you, milady. Are you using your weirding ways to twist my mind to your will?"

"I haven't needed to use my magic on you, lad. Would you like that?"

Hamish laughs, a deep guffaw from his belly. "Lad. Haven't been called a lad in … a very long time."

He looks at the vulture-maga and nods.

"I'm yours if you'll have me. I'll ward you and your turb… if you have one. If not, we can build one. I'm not sure why but I've never been troubled by the magi like others are. Could be the blood of giants in me. I think I was meant to serve the Order if such as me could be meant for that kind of trouble."

Hamish looks back at the lady in white.

"She was a powerful magus, that one. Why is she like that? This battle was as savage as I've seen, but why is she just floating there?"