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http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Spook%20Quest We stand in the centre of the gutted town, Tarlick near dead silent, save the gusting of the wind, and the occasional whining of the sheepdog, which has taken to following right at my heels after I left his master’s corpse.
Alison showed me where she found the remains of Mr Johnson’s staff, under the wreckage of a candle makers shop, shelves and benches overturned, windows broken, clear evidence of a hard fight.
I even found a boot, one of Mr Johnson’s, one which the dog took one whiff of, before backing away with a whimper.
“He’s not gonna be much use as a tracker.” Alison remarks dryly. “He’s a pet this one, not a working dog.” She squats down, grimacing as she wipes some of the owner’s blood out of his shaggy fur.
“S-so they have Mr Johnson now?” Kara asks, “Down in this Oendal place?”
“It does seem that way…” I nod, holding up the eight pointed sun I found on the corpse, along with the note that the girls found. “Unless this is very elaborate bait to draw us to the wrong place.” Somehow I doubt it, call it a gut feeling.
“How long do you think they’d leave before the trial?” Kara asks, “W-we could still rescue him, right?”
“Hard to say, if they’re going to put him on trial first, he’s got a day at most, a few more if they’re saving him for a big finale.” Alison grimaces. “Their trials are usually done rather quickly, so I hear…. unless they want to torture something out of you. Find the ‘devil’s spot’.” She shakes her head, spitting on the cobblestones.
Night is falling quickly, and the redhead’s energy is flagging, it’s obvious to tell, but she insists on getting the boat back on the river, wanting to push on to Oendal.
>Chase the dog off and go>Bring the dog, he may prove useful yet>Take a night here, might not be safe travelling at night.>Write in 