Aye, well, it was dead before, but that didn't stop it. But, yeah, I think it's really dead this time. I can't feel anyt'ing at the end o ma spell.
Caleb holds his sword a little tighter. He looks around at his fellows and sees little help. "We're going to be fighting dead things? Already dead things? What use is a sword against that?"
It is clear (PER+Folk Ken >=3) that Caleb is asking more in a tone of suspicion and disbelief. Scared, a bit, as well, but he's not lettting that get in the way.
Fabrica had been watching the display with intereste. Spirits and such were not his forte, nor his Parens. His Parens had always told him to ignore spirits, for their food was the attention of men, and anything you feed grows stronger. However, sometimes you could not ignore them.
"Caleb! Compose yourself!" he snapped. "The Good Lord did not put you here with us to fall apart at the sight of a spook now did he? You're protecting Wizards! We have powers that can protect against ghosts. Your job is still the same, to defend me from a falling blow. Now get back into position!" Fabrica hoped his tone would be inspiring enough to bely the fear he himself felt at this.
Corvus cocks his head and lets out a chuckle.
So Says the man that made the sword.
Turning to Caleb
A sword al do you as good 'gainst these here creatures as aginst any others. Maybe more. Probably more. If they're not afeared of dying, they'll come more quickly to ya blade. Jus' don' let ya nerve get in the way. Right, Fabrica?
Azaelle wanders curiously around the site, crouching down to examine the hoof prints. She looks deeply troubled.
"Aye, magus, sir, as you say." And returns to a position behind the magus to protect his back so the examination can continue ... terminating any spider he sees with a little effort than what is required.
Fabrica scowls at Corvus and his scornful remarks, but bites his lip so as not to confuse the men. He merely nods in agreement to what Corvus said. Like it or not, Corvus did seem to have more experience in these things. Perhaps a sword could be made that could affect ghosts and spirits. Perdo Mentem, perhaps with a Vim requisite could do it. That would certainly help in this kind of situation, maybe he could bring it up at the next meeting...
Azaelle and Uza are crouched over the hoof prints and conversing quietly in French.
After coming to what appears to be some conclusion, Uza stands up and looks at all present, as if sizing them up.
I don't believe Dusk was referring to me when he spoke of being surprised by a Nephilim. I am a Nephilim, but the one with the red hair and fists the size of your head... that wasn't me.
But I know who it was.
At Uza's confession, Corvus makes a sound as though he's choked on a feather only to catch himself, swallowing it down in the name of manners.
Nephilim, eh? Good to know. And there's another one you say?
"One that I know. I was speaking with her earlier as we were dining... speaking of which..."
She mutters something in a language that none of you have probably ever heard and pulls an apple out of her pocket. Sighing heavily, she eats ot practically in one bite.
What do you make of these hoof prints?
With a wary eye on Uza, Corvus crosses to Azaelle and drops to investigate the hoof prints.
Of themselves, not much, but...
Corvus chants the words to a spell, crossing his hands over the deepest print he can see.
[English, to Fabrica in a medium-loud whisper]
"Uh, Magus Fabrica, what are they saying? Anything I need to be aware of?" he says as he squishes a particularly large spider.
(Seeing Corvus' wary glance at Uza, she speaks quietly to him with a faint accent)
Worry about whatever did this but not about Uza. There is no one here that can be trusted as much as her.
At Azaelle's words, Corvus ends his spell abruptly. He turns to look up at Azaelle from where he crouches and whispers back...
Aye, but you've got nothing to fear...
Just for a moment, Azaelle sees something behind Corvus' dark eyes, perhaps the devil... no, not the devil... but something... secret... And then it's gone. And he bounces up to his feet, the cloak tied around his middle sweeping the ground.
So, would anyone like to know what I've discovered?
Azaelle hops to her feet, very intrigued by Corvus.
Yes. Please tell us everything you know.
"No, Caleb. Just keep an eye out for any that would try to stick a weapon in me.
"Nephilim? What's a Nephilim? And yes, please what is it you know Corvus?"
I know what the Nephilim are! But I'll not discuss such things here.
Importantly, the beast that made these tracks is no beast at all. Not mundane nor a beast of the realms. It's nothing that my spell could detect and I'd know if it was resisting somehow.
But these tracks, they're bovine, I'm certain. Whatever did this can transform or has a true form.
In any case, I'll not stay here. I'll see you back at the covenant...
With that, Corvus bounces to the air, transforming to a crow as he does, and he flies off through the trees in the direction of the covenant.
Fabrica blinks at the half revelation that Corvus makes and then drops his jaw as Corvus suddenly makes a hasty departure.
"Wait...wait! What just happened? Your spell couldn't detect it...and it transforms? A demon?! Wait dammit!"
"Alright, men! Um...fall in and uh...we're going to head back to the hall and the Aegis. Keep your eyes out for anything, make no assumptions. We'll protect ourselves with all our power. I want no one to get futher than five paces from me. Let's move!"
Fabrica brings up his spear tip in his left hand and clutches tightly his staff, his eyes darting nervously about, resting finally on Caleb. "Stay close, remember one step forward and one to your shield hand."
Do you think it would be unwise to follow the tracks?
Fabrica shakes his head no.
"No, we're not properly prepared. If that is what I think it is, we need to get out of here and get ready. Caution is best for this situation. Let's get out of here and report what we found. With any luck we'll get more answers out of Corvus."