"There was a couple of 'em runnin' around the outside, lightin' fires and shoutin' actual words that make sense about the Beaulieu family gettin' what's theirs and to surrender now and all kinds of shit like that," Auntie Cia says. "Figure they were the ringleaders - maybe even Descoteaux, never got a good look myself." She smiles at Red, giving him just a moment to prepare before she scoops him up in a hug and plants a literally big kiss on his cheek. "Welcome home, Renard. We missed you." She gives him a squeeze - Red's shoulders fitting very nicely between Cia's big arms - and puts him down again.
"I will see to the investigation, then," Martin comments, not eager to get between the half-giantess and her auntly affections for Red. "Lucius, I believe your knowledge of anatomy may come in handy. Would you accompany me, please?"
Red gives a grunt as he feels something pop in his back, but he stands up straight, if a little stiff, after he's put back down. "Good to see you too, Auntie."
He turns to the rest, blushing a little. "So. No sign of anyone like that when we showed up, but that doesn't mean they won't come back. Let's keep an eye out for them."
A couple of the villagers guard the doors to the barn while a third nails a table to the hole in the barn wall. Looking around, you don't see any other half-giants or anything else that isn't your standard human - one more wrinkle in this little community. Inside the barn doors are two more villagers with big sticks standing over a mess of elbows, knees and...black feathers. As Martin, Lucius and Ozzy walk closer, the beast-man scuttles upright and squawks in panic, but his broken right leg and right wing/arm don't let him. It looks like this particular beast-man is half-raven, with hair replaced with black plumage on his arms (which are now mostly fingerless) and legs (which are half-scaled and half-feathered) and tapering to pinfeathers towards the torso, a jet black beak, and eyes moved to the sides of his head. The latter means that he has to turn his head to the side to look squarely at the threesome, its yellow eye blinking and wide in fear.
"Help - caw! - help me!" the raven-man cries. "Gods almighty I'm all - caw! caw!" He shakes his head as his feathers flatten out. "I'm all fucked up! I gotta - caaaw! - out of here!"
Auntie Cia leads Red, Anton and Anata around the perimeter. "Things ain't been all smiles and light last few months, Renard," she says. "Been keeping your Auntie busy, building barricades for your Pops all over the farms. Seen a lot of what's been goin' on. And now you come up with some heroes from the city, lookin' for some kinda evil?" She smiles down at Red. "Like I said, I hear things. And while I'm not one to gossip..." She puts a hand on Red's shoulder. "I'll do anything for you, Renard. You got questions, I reckon I might have some answers."
"Caw! Got grabbed by the blasted Descoteaux!" The raven-man's feathers ruffle. "Walking the week's crop to market, then - ca-caw!" He tries to flap his wing-arms in emphasis, but the busted right arm doesn't cooperate. "Got grabbed and knocked out and woke up in some c - caw! - cave, all tied up and itchy! Then got the worst headache of my life, grew this caw! beak and feathers and shit! And it was the Descoteaux! Narcisse Descoteaux himself! Caw!" He shakes his feathers again. "But...like, a gator!"
"A most disturbing tale," Martin says, his tail standing up sharp behind him. "I have some experience with healing both mundane and magical. May I examine you?"
"Sadly, I can make no such promise, but if nothing else I will at least treat your injuries."
With no better idea, Martin first attempts his old standby Escape Clause magic - hey, it's worked on Asenath's black goo, maybe it'll do some good here, too.
Martin concentrates on pulling whatever sickness is present in the poor raven-man out of him, healing him of the...whatever it is that turned him all feathery. He lays hands on him, and for a moment, it seems to be working - or at least doing something. Black slick moisture wells up out of the man's pores and slides off his feathers; the man shakes unconsciously as his plumage puffs up to shed the liquid - but the feathers, beak and talons don't go anywhere, and he's still got wings instead of arms.
"God-damn, that feels better. Ho-lee shit, boy, you got something special there," the man says. He tries to stand up, but he's still all busted up on his right side from where Cia punched him through a wall, and that's when he notices that he's still part bird. "Well, fuck me sideways. Guess your touch can't solve everything, boy. Still, first time in a while I'm not all ca-caw! ca-caw! all the time, and I'll thank you for that." He bows his head to Martin, but it's hard not to notice that he sounded pretty dang natural still as a raven.
Lucius takes a knee and scoops up a bit of the moisture on a blade. He dips it in a vial and gives it a good shake, and it turns a bright yellow. "It reacts like a madness poison." He stands up. "Maybe you just pushed the part of the spell that makes them think like beasts."
"Hmm," Martin muses. "That complicates things, and still leaves us with the conundrum of the physical transformations. Any book-learned thoughts on this, Sir Oswald?"
"You hit it with the same whammy that pushes out Asenath's shite," Ozzy surmises. "That means if it ain't related, it's a hell of a coincidence and make no mistake. Polymorphin' folks is serious dark shit, mates. City Watch and the Wizards are the only folks what like to control people, and they don't brook no competition. Also, it's damn hard to make polymorphs that stick. Most o' the lot are temporary - s'why shite like money still works."
Ozzy paces, pausing every so often to look at the raven-man. "What's yer name, friend?"
"All right, Gerry," Ozzy says. "Martin 'ere's got yer head right, but I think wot's safest is to hold off on the rest o' yer till we know more. Can I take some o' yer feathers? Martin, same to you, I want to nab some o' yer hair. I'm gonna start trying various kinds o' dispells but I don't wanna start 'em on you lot without some sorta test."
Ozzy went to evocation school. Evocation, as most people don't know - but they find out when they meet an evoker - is channeling magical energy into elemental energy, mostly to blow shit up. Ozzy's damn good at evocation.
Now let's flash back a bunch of years to College Ozzy. That's "Young Master Bruckenheimer" if you're his evocation professor, "No, you lout!" if you're his Transmutation or Enchantment professor, or "Hey, dumbass!" if you wanted a reason to visit a late-night dentist. Polymorph is, you guessed it, a transmutation spell. College Ozzy wasn't very good at it.
On the plus side, however, he's had a lot of experience since then. Maybe he's learned a thing or two.
Ozzy takes the plucked feather in one hand and the snip of fur in the other, takes in a deep breath, and reaches back to what was, truth be told, not the most boring lectures at Winterwarm Academy - if nothing else the results of misfiring transmutations were incredibly amusing - and tries to get a feel for what kind of transmutation magic is going on here. Both the feather and fur burn up into ash in his hands, consumed by Ozzy's magic, but a rough feeling forms in his head none the less. The raven-man's feather left an oily, foul taste in his mouth - a very familiar taste at that. Asenath's magic was definitely present, but the flavor was wrong - Ozzy smacks his lips to get a better feel for it. Moonshine? Apples? And...a hint of spice? Not like back at Red's family's place, but...some other place he'd been to recently. Then it hits him - the Descoteaux manor house had apple trees out front - withered as they were. Whatever happened here, it was Descoteaux magic that did the deed. Martin's fur, on the other hand, leaves nothing behind - no feel, no taste, no smell beyond the scent of burnt feline fur. Whatever's there, it's not transmutation magic.
"Apples..." Ozzy mumbles. Right before Gerry starts to wonder if the big guy just had a stroke, Ozzy snaps out of it.
"Rakshasha magic's barkin' up the wrong tree," Ozzy explains. "Heh. Barkin'. Rakshashas. Right, sorry, no, Gerry's... uh, condition... is definitely Descoteaux magic, and it feels like it's been tainted with Asenath's familiar, uh, taint. Gods, I am just spewin' word salad everywhere tonight," he finishes. "Wonder I didn't have a stroke tryin' that dispell. Anyhow, Gerry got nabbed n' taken to a cave, so let's talk to Auntie Cia and see if she knows anywhere like that around 'ere. Can't be too many caves in a fuckin' swamp. As fer you, Gerry, I reckon we take down this Narcisse fella, we can reverse wot he done to all you lot."
Red rubs a temple with one hand. When she just lays it out like that, it seems so...obvious.
"We're on the lookout for a stone tablet. Nasty juju, likely has a bad reputation. Thought it might be behind the Descoteaux...transformations. Might be, still, but...now that I've seen them, I don't know. Doesn't look like it.
"And...I need you to tell me about the Descotaux vanishing, and what led up to it, too." He looks up at Auntie sheepishly. "I may have a job to do, but I'm not going to turn a blind eye to this just 'cause it might not be related."
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