Slaughter at Wicklow Mill
The second of High Sun, 1493, late afternoon
After a five hour hike through the Old Woods and across farmlands, the party now stand at the threshold of the small town of Wicklow Mill. Having almost been devoured by a ravenous wyrm lurking in Ellow’s pond, Pebbles feels frustrated by his utter lack of fear. While fussing over the baby goat, Gertie, Ilyad asks Enid how she’s feeling: ‘I’m fine,’ she lies. Gazing at the looming windmill, the long shadows of its whirling sails reaching out towards him, Featherfew thinks on the words of the frightened sheep: ‘Dark wings. White eyes.’
A crow flies from the window of a deserted cottage to their left, and in the distance, a bronze statue sits in the shadow of some other buildings. Pebbles heads over to the Mill to investigate some flour bags stacked near a fence. They are marked with a stylised ‘V’ shape, resembling the distinctive brow of an owl. His attention is caught by a ‘No Admittance’ sign on the entrance to the Mill. Accompanied by Enid, he attempts to gain entry to the building, claiming to be an official flour inspector, empowered by the Bailiff Caris Flyte.
The occupants will not open the door, urging Pebbles to consult with the Miller in the nearby bakery, but the halfling’s attention is then caught by a hoist on the first floor gantry. He tosses his grappling hook, snagging the pulley, allowing him, Ilyad and Featherfew to climb up to the rickety balcony. Meanwhile, Enid and Den found a low, narrow window allowing them to slip into the Mill’s basement.
Pebbles eased the door into the Mill open just a crack, confirming that the first floor was occupied by a number of labourers. Luckily, he was able to shut it again before anyone noticed him. He then decided to throw the door open, and march in, declaring himself to be an officially appointed flour inspector. The workers, rattled by the halfling's sudden appearance, primed themselves to attack, but Ilyad's intimidating appearance bought the friends a few seconds. Featherfew used his magic to reach out, searching for poison and magical contagion, confirming that the flour was impregnated with the wild magic of a powerful transformative spell, while the Mill labourers were afflicted with some overwhelming charm. Pebbles unsuccessfully attempted to toss a net over one, while Ilyad, who narrowly avoided being pushed off the balcony, unleashed her magical ferocity. As a pitched battle ensued, the friends noticed that their assailants had a distinctive marking on their faces, a floury paste running over their eyebrows and down the bridge of their noses. The fight seemed to turn as Featherfew fell to the cultists’ knives, but he was resuscitated by Pebbles, using the druid’s potion of healing. The party despatched five of the Mill workers, leaving a pile of corpses in their wake; a sixth cultist escaped, a fellow who tumbled, badly injured, down the central spiral staircase.
Down in the basement, Den and Enid crept through the low ceilinged, filthy corridors, dimly illuminated by the hovering orbs of Den’s magic. In places, the tides of detritus and garbage seemed to undulate and roil with an almost animal consciousness, while elsewhere, thronging swarms of rats squabbled over choice morsels. In the furthest corner of the basement, the two halflings met a gargantuan, sentient rat, who introduced himself as Lord Skittering, the ruler of The Below. Addressing the heroes as ‘moving food,’ Lord Skittering cut them a deal: if they would rid him of ‘It,’ some form of inedible mobile garbage, and deliver the delectable treat ‘It’ guarded, he would let them leave unmolested. Den and Enid agreed, though they then simply chose to climb out of the basement once they were far enough away from the strange creature. His indignant squeals were drowned out by their ally Pebbles, shouting down from the first floor balcony: ‘You better get up here: Ilyad’s killed several people.’
Ilyad and Featherfew searched the troughs of ground flour, confirming that the workers were deliberately adulterating the powder, sifting in muck and filth from another vessel. From his vantage point, Pebbles saw that the door to the Bakery was now ajar, suggesting that reinforcements were on their way. Electing to head further up into the Mill, Pebbles headed to the second floor, where huge mill stones ground together in a cacophonous fury. He confronted another Mill worker, who declared that the party would not be allowed to harm ‘her,’ a mysterious figure who was described as ‘the most beautiful, the kindest, most generous, loveliest, etc.’ Another fight broke out, but now reunited, the party made short work of two more ensorcelled townsfolk.
A rickety ladder leads into the attic of the Mill, where something stirs…