Emma seems to be eating some kind of mushroom she roasted over the fire. Arren isn't familiar with the different types of mushrooms, but he can recognise the shape. The blood on Emma's clothes looks different in different areas. Some are newer, some older. None of it looks fresh, but it's hard to tell whether it is a day or a week old.

Bryn tries to recall if he ever heard of magic that could cause such behaviour. But imbuing living creatures with magic was considered taboo, even in Levicka, and as a result, nothing detailing such magic had ever reached Bryn's hands.

Emma looks a little disappointed when Arren lifts his hand off his sword, but she doesn't comment on the matter and remains seated on her knees. By now, she is completely drenched. "Hector entered The Stewpot. He went in, fuming, entered the kitchen and..." She trails off again. "He was alone. Wyler was at the bar, drunk as a skunk, and he was the only customer at the time. I remember that because I had just told him he cannot drink from the carrot liquor anymore, and he tried to protest but lost his balance and hit his head on the counter. Wyler never loses his balance, he always says the earth is too stable compared to the seas he once sailed."

"Wood Elf? From my drawings?" She tries to remember. "Oh, that must be Fir. It's been so long since I made those, I'm really surprised they helped you find me. But Fir is in Ersta, or so I hope, with her children. Oh, Linden is such a cute little girl. She doesn't cry much, all she does is eat and sleep." Her eyes moisten once again. "But now, I'll never see either of them again. No, I must never see either of them."

She raises her eyes to look at Arren. "Tell me, what would you do if you were in my position? I've tried to throw my life away. I headed straight to the spiders' nest, to the bear's den, to the wolves in their favourite spot by the stream. But instead, I woke up covered in all of their blood. Unharmed on the outside, but on the inside... My muscles ache; they're not built for the toll it takes to do those things. I am hungry all the time. But I cannot eat. The thought of meat makes me puke, and the plants I find... they are not enough. It would have been enough before, I know that, but with all this effort... I feel like fire. A flame that must be fed timber, and whenever I don't feed it in time, it only spreads around to consume everything else. Everything except myself."

This time, Arren doesn't ignore Emma's plea.

"I would have probably done exactly what you've done," he replies. “I'd isolate myself. And if I were as desperate as you are, I might've tried the same tactics. But that's the thing, isn't it? You were alone. Desperate. And you didn't see any other way out. But w—"

He pauses, realizing that he's almost said We are here now, which would have given away the Corporal's presence. And while part of him thinks it might be better if the Elf came out and spoke with Emma directly, he isn't certain the three of them are truly alone, yet. So Arren continues, trusting the Corporal to decide if—and when—to reveal himself.

"…But you’re not alone anymore, Emma," he says quietly. "And we need to keep talking. We need to figure out what's happening, because ... something doesn't add up. I don't know what it is yet, but I can feel it."

Arren still doesn't feel safe, but he also can't bring himself to believe that Emma committed all the things she thinks she has. Hunger, exhaustion, aching muscles—none of that is strange, not after what she's been through. And yet, he still can't explain Hector's death. Nor the mixed bloods in her dress or the gaps in her memory.

Without any real answers, he decides to keep her talking, hoping something she says might point them toward the truth.

"Let's see… from what you've told me, we can definitely rule out Wyler testimony. He was too drunk to be reliable, and he misled me at first, making me think there was someone else there that day. But, as you've explained, that someone turned out to be Hector himself." 

The Half-Elf is saying this aloud to organize his own thoughts, mainly. Then he shifts to other topics.

"As for Fir—now that you mention it, I think I saw her a few hours ago. At The Three Frogs. We heard there was an earthquake two days ago, and it destroyed a few homes. Some families are staying at the only working inn in town now. I remember a Wood Elf woman with a newborn. That must've been her." He studies Emma for a moment. "You two were close, weren't you? It seemed like that from your paintings. Does Fir know about this spot in the forest? And about Hector's behavior toward you?"

He doesn't say it out loud—but if Fir was close to Emma, and knew what Hector had done… then maybe she had reason to act. Even if all the evidence currently pointed to Emma.

"And what about Zaba? Are you in good terms with your former mentor? Even after you opened a competing business right at his doorstep?"

He keeps his tone as neutral as he can—not cold, not confrontational. Just… curious. But the question is deliberate. If there's tension there, he wants to hear it from Emma.

'Tace' ignores the talk about Emma's friend Fir, and thinks about what she had said about the death of Hector. The carrot liquor had been strong, but if Wyler was so used to drinking did it really make sense he would get fall down drunk on it? And if he had hit his head hard enough for his memory to be affected, why wouldn't he mention a sore head and a bruise or some such?

His first instinct is it didn't make sense. But if this is supernatural does it have to?

And then the question would be why the spirit chose Emma. Was it protecting her or targeting Hecky? Where did it come from? Was it some kind of cursed object that she found?

If it is true, can we communicate with the creature or spirit or whatever it is?

He listens as the Sergeant asks about the people around her. That is good, perhaps they gifted her a protective charm or something. Damn this having to conceal my magic.

Insight (does he still believe Emma): 13+5=18

(OOC: We spoke about equipment and assuming we have things unless you call out its importance. Can Bryn have the manacles from the prison with him please?)

"Fir's house was destroyed? Well, that's not a surprise. It was old and rickety, if cosy. She was my best friend in my youth," Emma answers. She stands up again, but remains standing at the same spot. "Perhaps my only true friend. But here, this place, you are the first person to come here, other than me, that I know of. We liked walking away from town, but I found this place alone. 

"She knew. I think everyone knew. Just as on that day, he didn't try to hide it. They talked to me about it, asked me to... but I... I thought it'll all pass." She goes silent for a bit. "He wasn't always like that! We've been married for over a decade, and I know him well. He... changed, a little over a year ago. And ever since..."

"I wanted Zaba to see, to acknowledge how far I've gotten. Besides, he always complained about how hard it was to feed the entire town, how he just wanted to sit and rest. Back then, I thought he'd appreciate that," Emma defends, "but I was younger back then. Anyway, I hope he doesn't harbour any ill will towards me for it. I will always consider him my mentor.

"But why does that matter? Zaba, Fir, they wouldn't have anything to do with this, would they? Even if they could curse me in this way, I cannot accept that they would. I wouldn't wish this upon anyone at all."

To Bryn, it seems like Emma believes her words. If he wishes, his manacles are with him. If Arren saw them, he might have thought them a bit strange, but not as to raise suspicion, considering they picked 'Tace' from prison where all guards walked with such a pair all the time.

'Tace' carries on his line of thought even as he listens to Emma's story about how Hecky changed in the last year. If her friends had known about what was happening, they may well have given her some sort of protective charm.

He decides to risk leaning into his elven heritage, and quietly speaks the words that enable him to perceive magical auras, hoping that might identify the source of the issue.

(OOC: Ok,  think he will leave the manacles behind. It doesn't feel right to decide now he has them. He will certainly have them amongst his things, having not had chance to hand back his old guard equipment, such was the rush to leave).

Arren changes topics, since asking about Fir and Zaba hasn't yielded anything out of the ordinary. He lets out a resigned breath. He hasn't found anything useful yet—but on the other hand, Emma seems to be "contained"—for lack of a better word, since it’s unclear what exactly is happening. So he sticks to his plan: keep her talking until she says something that might be a clue ... or until the thing wakes.

“With everything you've said, I still don’t understand how you were physically able to do some of the things you think you’ve done. You look strong, sure, but I can't imagine how you carved those messages into the trees. They're very deep. You would've had to spend a lot of time on them—and with what tool, I've no idea—or else you'd need an incredible amount of force. I don't think even I could do that myself easily, and I'm fairly strong. How did you do it? Do you actually remember doing it? And the same goes for Hector's wounds. They had to have been caused by something—or someone—powerful, and clawed."

He pauses.

"To be honest, I haven't ruled out the possibility that someone else is behind all this and is trying to pin it on you. But we need proof. Have you had any strange interactions with anyone before all this started? Anything unusual? And what exactly happened with Hector a year ago?"

"Sometimes it happens, without any clear trigger," Emma answers. She looks down at her hands, clenching her fingers and opening them, a little like a toddler who's just discovering their motoric abilities. Her hands look normal to Arren. "I can feel it, almost the same, but... less violent. And without a clear target in sight, or a purpose, or... I don't know what exactly, but without a clear direction, I can try directing it myself.

"It is strange. I feel disembodied when it happens, but still partially in control. If I want to go somewhere, I don't walk over there. I wish to be there and... I feel myself moving in that direction. I wish the words to be carved into the tree, and I see my hands tear out a part of the tree like it were separating a piece of bread from the loaf. I don't feel the pain, only until after I come to my senses. But even then, it hurts, but not as much as I'd imagine. As if my hands are sturdier than usual, hard enough to withstand doing those things."

Meanwhile, Bryn casts his spell in silence, undetected. Arren has no idea that anything was done behind him, and if Emma noticed, she doesn't react in any way. Bryn immediately feels a strong aura of magic emanating from Emma. He hardly needs to focus at all, in this place devoid of magic, it's a bright light in the centre of a dark room. This strong Transmutation magic emanates from Emma equally in all directions, and to the best of Bryn's ability to tell, it seems her body is equally affected by it in every part of her, and not from any object carried by her. Such strong magic is rare to come across, even in Levicka. 

"Strange interactions?" Emma tries to remember, but eventually shakes her head. "I don't know. I ran a tavern, a mostly successful one at that. I saw plenty of people passing by daily. Mostly from Ersta, but there were plenty of travellers too. Most of them come, eat and maybe sleep, then resume their journey. If it were someone from out of Ersta, I don't recall anyone who wished to curse me, nor anyone with a reason to."

"I wish I knew what happened to him. Maybe then I could have helped him get over it. But he wouldn't talk to me, except for when he yelled at me. He was dissatisfied with everything and everyone. He was just... Maybe it was bothering him all the time, and he just burst, like I did. I don't know."

'Tace' is shocked to see such strong transmutational magic emanating from Emma herself. He had been almost certain it would be concentrated on a hidden pendant or a ring or the like. He thinks about was this could mean. The fact that somewhere from this region was displaying magic was strange, but for it to be so powerful was pretty mind boggling.

Ok, think Bryn. What could cause this? Something she ate? Proximity to something? Hecky was changed as well, in personality at least. Could they have been exposed to the same stimulus?

The fact she can maintain some kind of control could be important. Perhaps not possession by a spirit, which would possibly not allow that. If not possession, there is no chance of communicating with it directly. But is worth trying all the same?

He decides now is the time to reveal himself. If there was no-one else involved, there was need to act as lookout.

He clears his throat, "Don't be afraid, I am with the Sergeant there, but I would like to come out now", he says as softly as he can whilst clear enough to be heard. He slowly makes his way into the open.

(OOC: Does the detect magic give him enough extra information to try another arcana roll?)

Damn it, Arren thinks. I was hoping something she said might help us make sense of this, but I'm completely lost. There's no rational explanation for what's happening—and if that's the case, maybe it's best to report back to the Commandant, so she can escalate it. But would Emma really let them leave, when she has begged him to kill her?

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts his thoughts. When the Corporal reveals himself, Arren glances at him, then quickly back to Emma. "Please, don’t be alarmed. We thought someone else might be with you and figured it'd be safer if one of us stayed hidden, keeping watch."

If Emma remains calm and allows the conversation to continue, Arren turns to Tace. "What do you think? I can't find a rational explanation for what's going on here, so I'm starting to think something supernatural is at play. That’s well beyond my expertise."

He pauses to give the Corporal a chance to speak, and if there's room for another question, he adds, "Emma, you studied in Pyorre and met Hector there, right? Did anything unusual happen while you were staying there? Who did you study with?" To Tace, he says, "Might be good to look into that when we reach Pyorre."

Bryn has little knowledge of spirits, it seems, but his basic knowledge of magic tells that if it were a spirit possessing a Human, it would be Enchantment rather than Transmutation magic. At least, that would match the textbook definition best.

Emma doesn't startle as much as she did when Arren appeared. "Are there... any more of you?" She sounds hopeful. Fully aware of the danger she is, she doesn't mind you being cautious around her, as she doesn't mind Arren's shield interposed between them. "That's okay. If anything, I'm relieved to see you're being careful."

While you speak to each other, Emma stands silently, but attentively. But at some point, she raises her head to look straight at the sky. "It's getting weaker." She states, mostly to herself. But if there's any change, you haven't felt it.

Emma shakes her head in response to Arren's question. "That was over a decade ago. Could it really be related? We haven't kept in touch with anyone there, except Hector's family. But they're not bad people; they were kind to me. But why would they be related? I didn't tell them about Hector's recent behaviour, and I don't know if he wrote to them separately." She suddenly shudders. "I haven't written to them about his death either. But, how can I tell them? They'll never believe what happened!"

'Tace' slowly approaches until he stood maybe an arms span from the Sergeant, knowing how handy he is with his shield at protecting those around him.

"Hello Emma. I am glad you are not worried about my presence. I will be honest, it is just the two of us", he says openly, hoping to gain her trust.

Looking to the Sergeant, he replies. "I think supernatural is correct, although my initial suspicion was some kind of possession by a protective spirit. The evidence doesn't suggest that though. Emma here has not made reference to another presence within her mind, and she seems able to control her actions when she wills it. Possibly she is working on instinct at other times", he begins.

"No, there is some more physical transformation at play here I think. Emma, you mention it is getting weaker", he adds, noticing her looking up at the sky. "Are you in some way drawn to the moon? Did all this start to happen when it was full, by any chance?", he adds, thinking out loud and mixing in some questions.

If it is deemed appropriate that he would know enough about this subject, he might dig in his pocket for a silver coin.

(OOC: If Bryn thinks specifically about lycanthropy, does he know much? Any bed time stories or legends he might know? Anything more real he has read?)

Arren remains silent as his companion speaks to Emma, curious about what she means when by "it is getting weaker." He looks up, trying to determine the current moon phase, but the sky is likely too shrouded in rainclouds to see anything.

If whatever is influencing her is weakening, does that mean she's fully in control now, and that nothing will awaken tonight? Does she seem calmer than before?

He keeps turning over the possibilities in his mind. If Emma can't recall anyone or anything that might have caused this… could it mean she was always like this? Could it run in her bloodline?

"No, I don't think I am drawn to the moon. But it is getting weaker. The rain, I mean. I'm unsure how to explain it, I... sense it. I guess I can hear the difference, maybe. I felt something similar the night before it started raining. Like a gut feeling, I knew it was about to rain, even though I saw no clouds in the sky. And now, I feel it is about to end. Not now, not so suddenly. But it will weaken gradually, and eventually... perhaps after dawn already, it will stop. Or maybe I'm wrong. I didn't feel such things before. Maybe I'm just imagining it."

Emma pauses for a moment, thinking. "You're right. If I stay here, someone might get hurt eventually. But if you won't help me end it, maybe you can lock me up? Perhaps stone walls could keep people safe from... me." 

"Good, the rules out werewolf", 'Tace' says with nervous chuckle, knowing that werewolves were likely more urban legend than real. At least I hope so.

"Does that mean when you saw your hands carve the words in the trees, that they looked perfectly normal? They were just stronger, you had no claws or any physical mutations?", he asks.

"I am at a loss as to how you can sense the weather too. And it's just a feeling, nothing sensory?", he adds.

"As for locking you up, we don't really have anywhere to lock you up, I don't think", he says looking at the Sergeant. "I still have a pair of manacles back in town, that I brought from Tus. That might work. Talking of town, we were hoping to see if there was anything that might help in your living area at The Stewpot. Is there a key? Perhaps we can do a bit more investigation, collect the manacles and come back?", he says, looking to both Emma and the Sergeant to see what they think.

Arren is at a loss with Emma seemingly being able to predict the weather now, too. But she doesn't look entirely certain herself, and that only deepens the Sergeant's doubt. He wonders if everything she's saying is real, or if some part of it isn't. After all, they haven't seen any real proof—just her word. And though she feels honest, what way do they have to know without putting her in harm's way?

When the Corporal asks whether her hands looked normal while she did the carvings, Arren tries to get a look at her fingers. Do they appear injured? (Perception: 14+3=17)

He nods when Tace says there's no place to lock her up. "The closest prison is Tus—and that's days away. Worse, it's in the opposite direction of where we're headed once this rain stops. There's been no formal law involved in any of this, so I wouldn't expect a temporary holding cell to be waiting for us in Ersta either."

Arren pauses. "If you're as dangerous as you claim, I wouldn't want you anywhere near town without proper precautions. And all I have is rope. If you can carve into trees, I imagine rope wouldn't do much." He looks to the Corporal. "The manacles would be safer. I like that idea. Having the key would also be useful if we're to keep investigating."

Then, turning back to Emma, he asks, "Can you wait for us here? Do you feel in control enough to manage that?"

Emma stands, visibly uncomfortable and awkward, while you discuss her fate and what type of monster she might or might not be. "My hands were... my hands, but different. Not a hairy paw or anything like that! But sharper, in a way. Jagged and harder. As if they had turned into claws, but kept their shape, I suppose. But it is hard to tell, my memories of those times are blurry and discontinuous, and... as you can see," she raises her hands to show clearly, "they look normal, at least to me they do. They're not strong nor hard in any way." But they're not hurt either. Not a scratch, not even an abrasion. They're a little dirty, but nothing more.

"It is sensory, just... not like anything I'm used to feeling. Like smell, perhaps. You can tell a good stew is cooking nearby by the smell alone, without anyone telling you about it. But it isn't smell, nor sound. I don't really know how to describe this feeling. Could you describe what the smell of stew is to someone who has never smelled anything before? Or the colour blue to a person born blind?"

Emma nods understandingly. "I thought as much. Here," she digs into a pocket hidden under her apron and hands Arren a simple blood-stained iron key. "If you think this might help, you can have it. I have no need for it anymore."

"I can promise not to go anywhere myself, but I cannot promise not to lose control and then... who knows where I'll find myself when I wake up."

'Tace' nods at Emma's explanation of her abilities, not really understanding but accepting that he really can't fully understand anyway.

So no physical monster, at least that tracks with what Wyler saw. I am sure he would have mentioned the creature looked like a wolf on two legs.

"Ok, it seems we have a plan. It's not great, but at least it's a plan", he says, and looks to the Sergeant, who now has the key, to see if he is ready to go. The quicker we are the better. Especially if the rain is stopping soon and we have to leave.

"Emma, I don't suppose your newfound senses know the quickest direction to get to town? Or had we best retrace our steps?".

"It will have to do," Arren replies to Emma's warning that she can't promise she won't leave even if she doesn't want to. "I'm sorry we can't do more right now," he adds as he takes the key from her. "But I hope this helps."

Privately, he's uncertain what they'll do if nothing useful turns up in Emma and Hector's private quarters. They'll likely have to report it to the Commandant, who would probably escalate the issue for someone else to handle. But he realizes he's trying to cross the bridge before they've even reached the river, so he sets the thought aside for now.

"Yes," he says to the Corporal. "Let’s be quick about it." There's still time before the rain ends, but he's concerned the return trip to town and then back to the forest will cut too deeply into what little time they have. And he still needs to be mindful of his sleep.

Arren waits for Emma to point them toward the fastest way back—hopefully—and only then does he ease the grip on his shield.

(ooc: Once we reach town, roughly how many hours will have passed since we left? What time is it more or less?)

"I always retraced my steps. It is a simple path after all: Back that way", she points in the direction Arren and Bryn came from, "until you reach the spiders' clearing, then eastwards until you reach town. You could probably head east from here, but you'll probably end up a little bit north of the town."

When Arren and Bryn leave, Emma calls after you: "When you come back, could you bring my frying pan with you? The large one in my kitchen, made of cast iron. And some potatoes too, if it's not too much! There should be some in the pantry in The Stewpot, the key for it is under a jar of honey!"

By the time they reach town (by whichever route you've chosen), Arren and Bryn estimate that over an hour has passed since they left Ersta earlier.

((Recall, you left at sundown, and at this time of the year, night is ~13.5 hours and day is ~10.5 hours. Even if you'd be sleeping in a room alone, you'd be expected to wake up at sunrise, as Arren has gotten used to over the years, and Bryn... well, he's an Elf, but he already knows, more or less, the soldiers' sleep-schedule.))

Arren barely speaks as they retrace their steps back to town, focused on not losing their way—wasting time now could cost them the chance to keep investigating. Once in town, as they make their way toward The Stewpot, he finally glances at his companion.

"So, what do you think?" he asks quietly. "I can't explain what's happening with Emma, and part of me feels something supernatural may be involved, but I can't bring myself to fully believe it yet. We haven't really seen anything concrete to prove she's become something... more." He pauses. "I'm not sure if this refusal is blinding me."

He stops at the door they hadn't been able to open the first time, key in hand, as if collecting his thoughts for a couple of seconds. With a cautious eye, he quickly inspects the doorknob, scanning for any signs of forced entry or tampering since their last visit. If nothing is amiss, he simply unlocks the door and steps inside.