The mayor offered to let me stay in a spare room at her house but it wouldn’t do for anyone to see me coming from there so I returned to the inn and got a room.  Although I was loathe to do it I asked to be woken up early. Subsequently I got to see the party of roughneck loggers and drovers heading out to the hunting lodge with a mixture of fanfare and sour looks. It was a clear sign of the division in town – some gaily waving at the “heroes” and others glowering and muttering at the “thugs” heading off into the unknown.  Trueblood went with them while Kent went out working with his men – leaving only Wolcott in town. 

After taking some time to clean myself up and make myself presentable I found Wolcott in a tiny office scribbling away over some ledgers.  I told him how worried I was about his friends and begged him to show me the “sights” of Gevudan to take my mind off my worries. He was eager as a puppy to do so.  He spent several hours showing me around a glorified timber mill that made Graltontown look like Greater Paribas by comparison. But my purpose was served, innumerable folk saw us sauntering around town arm in arm.

He treated me to lunch at the finest horrible place in town and then we retired to his pedestrian house.  After quick roll in the hay, literally – the mattress was full of straw – as he slept contentedly, I got dressed and then took a razor off his night-stand and slit his throat. I’ve heard that if the blade is sharp enough you won’t even feel the cut – may be true because he didn’t even wake up.  I dragged his body into more of a falling down position than a murdered in my sleep position, tossed the room to make it look like there had been a struggle and then, covered with blood, I mussed up my hair and after a deep breath ran out into the street shrieking.

A startled looking fellow with an up-turned nose pushing a wheel-barrow came to my aid and caught me as I “fainted” into his arms.  I was so exhausted though that my false swoon quickly turned into real slumber. I woke up in the mayor’s house with a priest looking me over – I almost spit when I saw it was a priest of Strider but I was able to contain myself. I told the mayor and the various other parties in attendance what had happened.

Wolcott had seemed a perfect gentleman until he suggested we go back to his house.  Being a chaste and proper young lady of course I refused but he became insistent and since I am new in town and have no support system I felt I had no choice.  Once in his house he became a beast, all but assaulting me – I tried to appeal to his good nature but he laughed and said that he was a worshipper of the Thirteen and that he could use his demonic powers to make me do whatever he wanted.  Transfixing me with his wicked magic he told me that he and his fellow conspiratorial allies were going to take over the town and summon demons from the pits of the Thirteen Hells to do their vile bidding.

When he went to move me to the bed to take his foul pleasure with me his concentration must have lapsed because I was freed for a moment from his control and I was able to grab the razor to defend myself.  It was almost as if Adriel herself guided my hand as I swung, for surely I would never have been able to overcome him without help from the Blessed Mercy herself.

People were only too happy to believe this story about the disliked man, even his own stockyardmen, who were also quick to cast suspicion on Kent and Trueblood.  I cautioned them against this as the servants of the Thirteen are liars and manipulators all and he could have invoked their names to cast aspersions on them, but some lovely fool pointed out that he was probably speaking true since he clearly intended on killing me after he had his way with me.  I argued passionately that from what I had seen Kent was a good man who clearly couldn’t be involved, while of course subtly undermining that exact same idea.

The mayor of course had no choice but to take Kent into custody and determine what his involvement was.  His men grumbled, but that’s all they did – the accusation of demon worship is one that’s too dire to not wonder about – plus their toughs were out of town.  I assured them that their leader would be proven innocent.

As I returned to the room at the inn I reflected upon the power of a good witch-hunt.  I had murdered a man in cold blood and someone else was being arrested on suspicion of worshiping the dark ones.  You have to love rural folk and their rustic ways.

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Funds: 218 gold, 8 silver 

XP: 5800

Inventory: Signet ring, Ring of Many Garments, noble’s traveling outfit

Revenge List: Duke Eaglevane, Piltis Swine, Rince Electrum, watchman Gridley, White-Muzzle the worg, Percy Ringle the butler , Alice Kinsey , “Patch”, Heroes of the Lost Sword, Cardshire Arms manager, Erist priest of Strider, Griselda owner of the Sage Mirror, Eedraxis,  Skin-Taker tribe

Anti-Revenge List: Dorehe the maid

Graltontown Rumors : Murderous servants (Reoccurring), exiled noblewoman (Reoccurring), vigilante “Litheria”(30%)