Private Pormont (Reaping Season I) Abandoned, but not Forgotten

[Siondhe]

220 / 220

100/100

Kyra stared up at the windmill, trying to figure out what was so special about it. The area seemed fairly common for Pormont; the golden flowing plains broken up by rolling hills. The windmill itself stood above the lands around it, a beacon of wood and stone against the otherwise monotone expanse.

"That's a lot of ravens...like a lot of ravens."

Her ears twitched as she tried to figure out what could possible cause it. A group of birds, even a couple dozen, wouldn't seem too out of place. The mass of birds above her - she'd stopped counting when she hit eighty-six - was far beyond the norm. Far beyond what could be considered the norm, even in a game such as Terrasphere.

"This is...this is definitely the definition of weird."

Another twitch, this time the tail swaying behind her. Her eyes didn't leave the windmill as more and more birds slowly made their way down to land on the giant blades that would normally operate the internal mechanisms. If there was one thing she could say about the whole thing, there was definitely some sort of weird beauty in the entire scene, once one put aside the oddness of so many birds in one place.

"Definitely odd...but I don't see any reason as to why everyone is freaking out..."

@Erick Styker​

 

[Erick Stryker]

With both hands on his hips, the son of a farmer assessed the scene with a trained eye, and listened as the woman gave her full opinion on the situation. It was strange, farm families as they were, for people to be so eaten alive by superstition. Though in this world, that was a lot more dangerous than it was where the two Starfallen came from. He figured it was some kind of cultural disparity, but he had a pretty good idea of what had them spooked.

"People don't like Crows or Ravens much. 'Specially not over fields that are supposed to be ripe for harvest," he explained, taking a step forward to get a better look at the windmill after Kyra made her initial assessment. Truth be told, he was more used to windfarm turbines than he was windmills. The latter were an archaic technology that had faded into disuse in Middle America over the past two centuries. If someone happened to see one, it was a rare glimpse into the early1900s.

Generally, they were used to create mechanical energy for some purpose. Churning butter, helping to move the water along an aqueduct, markedly both things that Erick could see no traces of. There were no visible aquifers rigged to the mill, nor did he see any kind of butter operation, or the accoutrements necessary to maintain one. That wasn't to say that it wasn't the case. Those things were most likely moved away, provoked by the fear of the people.

"Did the farmers have much to say about what happened here?" he asked the woman. They had given their names and exchanged a fair number of pleasantries already. Kyra seemed personable enough with a kind and not overly talkative personality that made her approachable, but not really someone who Erick would normally seek out. Probably not an extravert, but she's learned how to communicate fairly well in spite of it.

He was the opposite. Jimmy had always been able to talk to people, even those who he did not get along with. He was always able to work through difficult situations and find a compromise. Though in fairness, he wasn't always able to get people to like him.

Erick was fine with not being liked, though.

"'Cause I'll wager that's the best place to start," he added after a moment. "We're not going to pick up on much just looking at the windmill unless we can get inside, and no one's going to just open it up for us, spooked as they seem to be."

@Kyra Vashtana

 

[Siondhe]

220 / 220

100/100

She glanced over at Erick, her tail swaying slowly behind her as she gave a simple shrug. She'd spoken to the locals a bit, but nothing entirely helpful had come from them. They'd been polite, offered a bit of insight - most of it non-sense about some impending doom or another. It was always a similar story with a different twist. Helpful enough if you could connect all the dots, but missing a large portion of important information.

"Spoke to the Dresdorian family, and the Oppolites on the way up, but aside from some hints towards what sounded like the arrival of the Morrighan, not much of use. They had mentioned that the Vycktorians and the Litcoli's lived over the ridge...but I don't know if we'll get much else from the locals. They're all spooked, and giving horror stories."

Her eyes slowly moved back to the windmill. There was something there, she was sure of it. Like Erick had hinted, if they could get inside...

"Maybe that's what we need to do...get inside. Take a look around. Any idea who owns this piece? Neither the Dresdorian's or the Oppolites seemed to know. Struck me as a bit odd, honestly."

She found herself tapping her foot, trying to consider their options. They could continue canvassing the area, trying to figure out who owned the windmill, get permission to head inside. Or...

"...we could just go find an open window, or make an entry for ourselves. What if no one owns this piece?"

Her eyes lingered, as she considered their options. She wasn't one to simply trespass onto properties, but she felt like their options were limited. If they actually wanted to solve this mystery, that was...

@Erick Styker​

 

[Erick Stryker]

"If that's the case..."

Erick had some hope that there would at least be an owner for the property, or someone who knew what kind of work the mill was used for. Without that much, it would be hard to glean if it needed to be manned or not; and without knowing that, why it would be abandoned without any sort of upkeep would be hard to infer. He massaged his temple slightly as the woman listed off names of possible (and those who were known to not be) owners.

There were plenty of people who wanted nothing to do with the windmill, and not enough who were willing to speak on the damn thing. Not beyond their fearmongering, anyway. It seemed unlikely that no one owned the property, so the probability became much higher that no one wanted to admit that they knew the owners.

...which meant that, whatever was going on, the owners had been implicated in, at the very least to the degree that they had been socially ostracized.

You know, textbook rural community bullshit.

"No, you're right, it is odd," Erick said at last once the woman had suggested unlawful entry. "I don't think you'd see much resistance from most of the community, but at the very least, someone is liable to not like that plan much. We just need to figure out who that "someone" is, and then we can start asking the real questions."

Erick folded his arms and rolled his neck in a circle, eliciting several small popping sounds in rapid succession. "But based on your feedback from the community, I don't think we're going to find many of them forthcoming with anything we'll actually be able to use."

He posited a new plan.

Erick knelt down and picked a rock off the ground. Unceremoniously, he walked toward the door and began smashing the blunt object against the lock, repeatedly. The rusted mechanism whined and creaked in protest until finally, it cracked and fell to the ground in several pieces. "No one can nail us with breaking and entering if there's no proof that there was a break in," he said offhand as his temporal magicks twisted the reality around the lock, winding back the hands of time and returning it to its unbroken form. With the lock undone, it would be a simple matter to replace it and act as though they had never opened the door at all.

Only now, the door had creaked open, and the musty smell from within taunted them. What secrets would they find?

@Kyra Vashtana

 

[Siondhe]

220 / 220

100/100

Kyra watched as Erick strode forward, and began beating the lock with a rock that he had picked up off the ground. She had considered stopping him - if only because of the noise it was causing. She doubted that her protests would hinder his attempts though, and before she could even move to act he had managed to break the lock off.

"Nifty trick...but I have to ask - do you beat all of your problems with a rock?"

She threw a half-hearted smile at the individual before she sidled up beside him, passing through the now-open door and into the mill itself. The inside was about as appealing as what Kyra had expected to find.

Her eyes roamed the empty room, spotting a staircase on the far left side, leading both into the floors above, as well as to what would likely be a basement below them. She decided that would be better to explore later, once they had confirmed the main floor was clear.

To her right, she found a hallway that seemed to continue for a few metres, before abruptly turning left and further into the building. She couldn't see any doors along the way, and assumed that it led to some sort of storage, or possibly living quarters.

"Alright...we're in...now what? Think we're going to find anyone in here? It certainly feels abandonded."

She was about to head towards the stairs, when her eyes caught a black mark on the floor to her right. Taking a few steps, she bent down. Slowly, she picked up a black feather, bringing it up to eye level, before casting a curious gaze over towards Erick, her left eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"Okay...someone left a window open...?"

Ahead a few metres, she saw another of the feathers, then a few metres beyond that one, another feather. Almost like a trail...leading us to...? What? A trap? A secret? An answer? Wherever it led, she wouldn't find out standing here, staring at the floor.

"Shall we?"

She waved a hand towards the bend in the hallway up ahead, deciding that for now they could explore the current floor, and leave the other levels for later.

@Erick Styker​

 

[Erick Stryker]

"I don't know what you're talking about," he smirked as he pushed his way into the building behind her.

"I do wish every problem could be solved with force, though. It'd save a lot of people a ton of grief," he said with a bit of resignation as he looked around the entryway, somewhat surprised that there was nothing strange to greet them. But if it were that obvious, someone would have already forced their way in ahead, and they most definitely wouldn't have sought help from outsiders.

It was that same thinking that made him wistful about the influence of applied violence. When country-folk got to feuding, they rarely outsourced for mediators. They sat on their grudges for years, decades- generations, even. A swift kick in the ass might motivate some of them to be more receptive to communication.

But people found that kind of thinking dangerous.

"A window?" Kyra's musings ripped him out of his train of thought and back to more pertinent thoughts. When he saw what she was talking about, his immediate thoughts were of air-flow. Whoever left it open needed fresh air to be accessible.

Not much further, and they would probably understand why that was. "We shall," he replied evenly, a curt nod offered as he decided to take point. They were both supports, from what he understood about the woman, but he was intentionally built to act as bulwark for less durable allies. "I have a crawling feeling under my skin about this," he said in a low voice as he opened the door ahead of him and creakily slid it open.

The air that met him was dusty, but humid. It was like a wine cellar, but somehow, he doubted that they would find wine inside.

"Someone wanted to keep this area humidified and cooled," he gave his thoughts where she could hear them. "Preservation tactic."

@Kyra Vashtana

 

[Siondhe]

220 / 220

100/100

Humidified and cooled. Not the conclusion that should would have come to, which spoke about the familiarity that Erick seemed to have with the environment. Kyra stepped aside to let him pass as he began heading down the hallway, falling into step behind the man as they made their way towards the corner.

Her eyes scanned the floor as they went, continuing to spot numerous feathers along the way, almost equally spaced out a couple metres apart. She wasn't sure what to make of that yet, but it was certainly something that stood out to her. The whole area had an odd feel to it, an almost...

"Did you hear that? Sounded like a..."

Her ears twitched and leaned forward ever so slightly as she tried to pinpoint the sound that she had heard. She'd come to a slow shuffle as she tried listening.

"Sounds like ravens...muffled though. Not coming from outside."

A few steps more, and then she came to a complete stop as both her ears popped up and her tail stopped the slow sway, falling behind her limply.

"There's a lot of ravens up ahead...behind something...maybe a couple of doors? Definitely inside. Can't quite pin where though..."

She felt her hand drift towards the scythe at her side, a shiver running up her back as glanced over at Erick.

"Something about this place feels wrong. I can't tell you what, but something feels extremely, wrong."

@Erick Styker​