Spells
Org Res
Pixel weaves a quick spell and his senses are thrust forward, across the intervening distance. The perceptive surge is jarring and the Warlock nearly looses control of his spell.
But it is worth it.
The farmhouse is a rambling building - a decrepit building in the hacienda style. A number of out buildings surround it, and many are in similarly bad shape.
To the farmhouse's right (what would be Pixel's left) is a line of greenhouses that look to be in good condition and definitely in use. Lights have bee set on poles, framing a space between some of the outbuildings, the farm house and the green houses.
Wagner plays from a tinny radio.
Two men are working on the engine of a van (an ice cream van!) and one of them has just whacked his thumb with a tool; he drops the tool, turns and curses, shaking his hand. His companion makes a snide comment in what sounds like Spanish.
A lumbering hulk of a giant shifting a cart filled with large boxes, taking them into one of the outbuildings: an androgenous giant with a feminine head atop a bloated and monstrous form. The figure is waring a mismatched pair of denim dungarees and goes barefoot.
There are other vehicles too - a battered old car, a truck from a haulage company, and garishly yellow volkswagen beetle.
A third man emerges from a greenhouse. This man is rangy, tanned with a thick stubble and wrap around black glasses similar to those worn by the vision impaired (yet he carries no cane). He is dressed in a long duster coat. He heads over to the two men and the ice cream van, pulling out a cigarette packet from a pocket.
And then the Warlock's glyph burns out and his perceptions are hurled back into his own skull.
Anima edges closer, going slow with his improvised minesweeper. It gets shredded but does save him at least twice from the hidden, crippling, jaws that lie in wait in the undergrowth.
He edges closer, close enough now to make out the gist of conversation: someone called Maxim is checking up on the progress of the two men working on the engine.
"He went off alone", he repeats, his brows rearranging into a deep frown. Probably they should just leave him here, but again, dos and wants are two different things.
Besides, he got the keys to the car.
Stats
Just a quick heads up.
I'll be wrapping this scene within the week so Winter can begin his lockdown.
We can always return to the Woodland farmhouse at a later time
"Anything catch your eye?"
He pondered on what it meant to launch one's Sight across physical space. He supposed that invalidated the idea of distance entirely.
Noted.
Spells
Org Res
Anima has a first name at least, they have an address, and it seems their plans might have something to do with this vehicle whose engine they are preparing. Best to return to the group and let them know what he's learned.
The Shaman retraces his carefully picked steps through the brush, making his way back to the group, truly looking like a wild man. Dirty, muddy, but wiser.
3 successes
"Two men working on a car. A giantess taking some boxes into one of the out houses. Third guy with blind guy glasses that doesn't seem to be blind. No cane either."
When the spell ends he simply blinks and looks to Abacus.
"Look like regular scavengers to me. No magic or anything."
The Warlock sighs.
Good to go whenever!
Appearances can be deceiving, look no further for the Lady they have rescued and the box. Chances are that whoever did this, was skilled enough to hide his marks.
But that was an investigation he'd gladly postpone.
And the Shaman was coming back? Nice.
Ready to go
Stats
A night of mystery.
A drained Hallow. A woman. A mysterious mechanism. An even more mysterious farmhouse.
And what was it with the ice cream van?
Questions for another night.
I'll wrap the scene here. Feel free to continue this plot if you wish