Log:Werefox Blues

Mystique and Partners 2021/01/12 Mystique Dixon Lennox 5

Countryside Northwest of Colonial Bay
Long, largely straight roads, often in poor condition, stretch across the low-lying farmland, interrupted by lines of tree delimiting fields and acting as windbreakers. Traffic is thin, most long-distance traffic preferring the major highways to the south and east. Small villages and isolated farmhouses hold the human population, while fields and hedgerows have the animals. ---

Mystique calls Dixon via phone after she's been out of the office a couple of hours. "Dan, if you're not on the verge of solving that mall thieving case there's something I think is a little more urgent come up. Can you meet me at the Horner Farm. Sending GPS."

Dixon texts back, "Be there soon." At least with the money from the last case he's got himself a second-hand car, which makes getting around rather easier!

Dixon leaves the mall and is soon driving out to Horner Farm.

The Horner farm is something quite rare these days. A family owned farm rather than a corporation run farm. There's a nice rustic farmhouse, a couple of large barns, a large chicken house and free range area, all set amid fields that at this time of year are being ploughed and seeded.

Mystique is waiting at the road end of the dirt lane that leads up to the farmhouse.

Dixon pulls up off the side of the dirt lane and gets out. "Something urgent? Here? Last place I would have expected."

Mystique nods, "The Horner family has a eight year old son. He's been shot by a shotgun twice in the last four months. The police have come up with nothing. Mr Horner wants to hire us to find out who's doing it."

Dixon says, "I don't blame him! That's disturbing to say the least! How's the son now? When was he last shot?"

Mystique says, "The son is fine now. He healed up surprising well I was told. But that still leaves someone shooting at a young boy. And a lot of possible suspects. Everyone and their neighbour owns a shotgun out here in the countryside."

Mystique adds, "About three weeks ago."

Dixon says, "And the time before that was about four months ago, I assume. Hm. How 'surprisingly well' did he heal? Could he be a meta?"

Mystique says, "That's something to ask the family doctor. All I got from the parents was that the boy, his name is James, healed quicker than they expected."

Dixon nods. "Just a thought. It could be something to do with the motive. I'd think something strange must be going on - shooting 8-year-olds on purpose isn't exactly normal. So what else do we know so far?"

Mystique says, "The dates when James was shot. Some idea of time, although that's a mystery in its self. And James claims he has no memory of what happened."

Dixon says, "I was going to ask about that. And I've also just had a crazy idea."

He pulls out his PDA. "What were the exact dates?"

Mystique pulls out her PDA to check. And tells Dan the dates.

Dixon checks the dates in his calendar again phases of the moon.

It just happens, surely a coincidence, that the dates are also those of the full moon.

Dixon says, "OK, maybe I read too many comics as a boy. But I was just thinking - what usually gets shot with a shotgun? Animals. And then I thought, if the boy is a meta, could he be a shapeshifter? And then I thought werewolf - maybe because you said he had no memory - and sure enough, the days he was shot had full moons." He shrugs. "Doesn't prove anything, but..."

Mystique nods, "It's plausible. Worth bearing in mind. Shall we go up and meet the family?"

Dixon says, "Yes. Probably best not to say anything about my theory yet, mind!"

Mystique nods, and after checking if it's okay with Dan, rides in comfort in Dan's car up the drive to the farmhouse. Mr Horner is outside working on patching a hole in the wire fencing around the free range area of the chicken house. There's a shotgun laid on his discarded jacket nearby, A example of Mystique's comment that everyone owns a shotgun.

Dixon says, "Clearly, if he is a werewolf, he's not the only animal to be having a go at the chickens, or he'd have been mending that hole a while back..."

Dixon parks and gets out of the car, waving a greeting to Mr Horner.

Daniel Horner straightens up as the car arrives. "Howdy," he says as Dan amd Mystique emerge from the car, "You must be Mystique's partner. I sure hope you can find out who's been shooting my son. And put an end to it. One way or another." He glances briefly at the shotgun. His thoughts kind of obvious.

Mystique nods, "Mr Horner, this is indeed my partner, Dan Dixon."

Dixon tips his hat. "Dan Dixon. We'll do our level best. Shooting kids is a serious business!" He nods to the hole in the fence. "Trouble with foxes?"

Daniel nods, "Whole area is plagued by them. Smart beasts too. They manage to get inside the hen houses of my and my neighbours, and even somehow manage to break through the fences."

Dixon eyes the size of the hole, trying to judge if it could be something larger than a fox that made it. Then idly wonders if there are such things as werefoxes. "Guess shotguns see a lot of use around here then. Still, once might be an accident but hardly twice..."

Daniel nods, "Yep. I get through a box of birdshot a month on average. Most folks use normal shot but heck, animals are animals. Ain't their fault they eat the same as what we raise, so I just give them a peppering that puts a few pellets in their hides but lets them live.

Dixon nods. "What kind of shot was your son shot with?"

Daniel answers, "Birdshot thankfully. But just cause it was birdshot don't anyways mean it's acceptable. James is my son. Ain't nobody shooting my son and not paying for it."

Dixon says, "Of course. So what can you tell as about what happen? I hear James doesn't remember anything?"

Daniel nods, "That's what he says and he's a truthful boy. Ain't that much to tell to be honest. Twice now his Maw has gone to wake James to get ready for school or chores, and found him wounded and the sheets bloody. But he weren't shot in his bed. Least we don't think so. There's been no damage to the bed or sheets other than the blood."

Dixon says, "So you found him like that in the morning both times? Sounds like he must have been shot somewhere else though. Where was he last before he got shot?"

Daniel rubs the back of his neck, an almost universal human gesture for puzzlement. "In his bed."

Dixon says, "Hm. Does he ever go walking about at night? Even if just to get a drink? Or sleepwalking, or anything?"

Daniel shrugs, "Don't know about sleepwalking. Never seen James doing that myself. But he gets up to go to the toilet or get a drink sometimes. And got a paddling one time for raiding the fridge and eating a raw chicken in there for Sunday dinner."

Dixon says, "A /raw/ chicken? You saw him eating it?"

Daniel shakes his head, "Didn't catch James doing it, but the chicken was mostly eaten in the morning and James had some of the bones and feathers in his bed.

Daniel also recall after a moment. "James must have scratched himself opening the fridge. He had a bad scratch on his hand too."

Dixon nods. "Is it possible for us to talk to James?"

Daniel nods, "Of course. He'll be back from school in a hour or so. Maw's got some fresh lemonade and cookies if you want to wait."

Dixon says, "Thank you, very hospitable - oh, say, one more thing. Have there been any similar strange happening among your neighbours? People being shot, or loss of memory, or any such thing?"

Dixon thinks. o O (If there's one werewolf there may be more than one. If stories about it being contagious are true.)

Daniel shakes his head, "Not with anyone I talk to. Can't speak for Jonas Furbright though. He keeps to himself. Most antisocial man I've ever known.

Dixon says, "Jonas Furbright? Who's he?"

Daniel frowns, "Some city slicker type I think. Came here and bought the old Cartland farm about six months back. Folks here are friendly and tried to make him welcome. He told us all to mind our own business, so we did."

Dixon nods. "You're on good terms with your other neighbours, then?" . o O (Probably best to ask, especially if it turns out the werewolf theory is wrong - though after the raw chicken thing that seems unlikely!)

Daniel nods, "Yes. We all try to help each other. Family farms are getting rarer. Kind of like a extended family, if you know what I mean."

Dixon nods. "Good to see such neighbourliness still survives!"

Daniel nods.

Dixon says, "Well, we'd better let you get on with your work!" And he takes his leave and goes in search of 'Maw' and refreshments. As he goes, he says quietly to Mystique, "The werewolf thing seems more and more likely. Mystic weirdness is more your area - know much about them?"

Mystique nods, "I know something of the were beings. Your theory holds up I believe."

Mrs Horner is the typical farm wife. Affable, welcoming, and forthcoming with chilled lemonade and cookies. "I do hope you can find out who shot my James," she says.

Dixon removes his hat. "We'll certainly do our best, ma'am - thank you! Is there anything you can think of that might help us find out what happened?"

Mary pours out the lemonade, "It's obvious who did it," she says. "But the police won't arrest him."

Dixon frowns slightly. "Obvious? Who do you think did it?" he asks, though he's almost certain of the answer he'll get.

Mary points toward the north, "That Jonas. Who else. Noboy else in the community would shoot anyone, let alone a child."

Dixon says, "And he would? From what Mr Horner says, he keeps to himself."

Mary says a little hotly, "Nobody else would do such a thing. It has to be him."

Dixon says, "Well, we'll certainly be having a look at him. How do you account for James being in a position to be shot, though? I gather he was supposed to be in bed!"

Mary's shoulders seem to slump, "I don't know. It doesn't make sense."

Dixon says, "How has James been lately?"

Mary replies, "Moody. He's off his food. Doesn't eat as much as he used to... And he threw out his grandfather's pocket watch that was a bequest to him. I've saved it from the trash though."

Dixon says, "That's strange! Why would he do that? May I see it?"

Mary nods, and opens a drawer in the kitchen cabinet, "I really don't know. James loved his grandfather. The watch meant a great deal to him until recently." She pulls out the silver pocket watch and hands it to Dan.

Dixon looks at it, and nods. "How long ago did he throw it out?"

Mary things back, "About four or five months ago now."

Dixon says, "Did anything happen to him around then, anything traumatic? Was he injured in any way, say?"

Mary shakes her head, "Not that I recall. Well, other than getting a paddling from Daniel for eating the chicken out of the fridge."

Dixon thinks. o O (When he had the scratch...)

Dixon says, "Was anything else going on with him around that time?"

Mary shakes her head again. "No. James was a totally normal boy until all this started."

Dixon nods, and glances at Mystique. The theory seems to be borne out ever more, but it's not exactly the sort of explanation one can give without some proof. "Thank you. I don't think we have any more questions for you just now?" He turns that into a question at the end and glances again at Mystique, inquisitively,

Mystique asks, "You mentioned a change in Jame's eating habits?"

Mary nods, "Yes. He never liked greens. What boy does? But he finally started wanting all his steaks and meat cooked rare. He used to like them well done. Waste of a good steak overcooking it like that."

There's the sound of a horn. Glancing out the window you can see a pickup truck with a half dozen children in the back. The pickup stops and a boy jumps out. The other children wave as the pickup starts going back down the drive.

Dixon thinks. o O (Everything seems to support the idea. But how much does the boy suspect himself? And how did he become a werewolf (or were-whatever)? And if he caught it from someone else, is Jonas Furbright that someone?)

Dixon says, "This is James now, I take it?"

The boy goes to his father first. Then comes into the farmhouse. He's a absolutely typical American kid.

Mary nods, "Yes, that's my James."

James looks quizzically at the 'strangers' in the house with his mother.

Dixon gives a friendly smile. "Hi James! This is Mystique, and I'm Dan Dixon - we're private eyes. Your parents have asked us to try to solve the mystery of how you got shot!"

Dixon watches the boy's reaction. If he's really clueless, he'll no doubt want to know more than anyone; if he knows he's a werewolf this is likely to make him nervous!

James tenses up a little. He tries to hide it but kids aren't good at that.

"Don't worry, we're here to help! We just have a few questions to ask you. Would you be more comfortable with your mother present, or would you rather talk to us alone?" says Dixon, figuring this gives the kid the option at least - if he asks the mother she's likely to insist on being present, but she might accept not as a fait accompli.

James hesitates, then glances at the obvious witch. "On my own." he says finally.

Dixon smiles, and ask Mary, as if as an afterthought, "If that's ok?" Knowing it's a bit hard for her to insist on being present now.

Mary is unhappy but has little choice, "I... suppose so."

Dixon asks James, "Where can we talk?"

James says, "In my tree house?"

Dixon says, "That sounds fun! I haven't been in a treehouse in ages!"

Dixon says, "Lead on."

James leads Dan to a tree house. Mystique stays with Mary to keep the mother occupied. The tree house is quite large and well built. James rushes up the ladder into it.

Dixon follows up, not as quickly, but grinning, playing more the part of the middle-aged man being reminded of his childhood. "Nice place!"

James grins back. The tree house has a bunch of cushions to sit on.

Dixon sits down on the cushions. "James, the first thing I want to say is this: you're not in trouble, and you're not going to get in trouble. We're here to help, just that. You understand?"

James nods. "He said someone like you and the witch would come."

Dixon says, "Hm? Who said that?"

James says, "Mr Furbright,"

Dixon smiles. "I wondered if that was who you meant. But I didn't know he was expecting us! It sounds like you know a lot more than you told your parents."

James blurts out, "If I told my parents my dad would know who shot me."

Dixon says softly, "He would. But he would also know it was an understandable mistake, wouldn't he?"

James looks down, "I don't know."

Dixon says, "Well, here's what I suggest: start at the beginning, and tell me all about it. And then we can work out the best thing to do without anyone getting hurt or into trouble."

James nods. "I was going back to bed after going to the toilet when I heard a noise in the kitchen. I went down to look and there was a fox in there eating our chicken. I tried to grab the chicken away and scratched my hand on one of its teeth."

Dixon nods. "So that's how you were bitten in the first place. I wondered about that."

"Then the fox turned into Mr Furbright. He seemed sorry and washed my hand really quickly. Then asked me not to say anything and told me to go see him if I felt funny the next few days. I gave my word. That's why I couldn't tell my dad what happened. I got spanked for that."

James pauses.

Dixon says, "It was brave of you not to tell him! What happened next?"

Dixon thinks. o O (The real question here is, how innocent, or not, is Furbright?)

James continues, "I was fine until the next time the moon was bright. After I went to bed and the moon came up I turned into a fox! I was sort of there but not really, and I couldn't really control what the fox did. It.. I.. went after the chicken house. And dad shot me."

Dixon nods. "I'd pretty much worked that much out. Do you still not have any control as a fox? It sounds like Furbright has some, at least, since he could change back to wash your hand."

James, the son, nods, "Yes. He's teaching me a lot about what I should and shouldn't do when I'm a fox."

Dixon says, "Hm, seems a bit strange - given that when he scratched you clearly he was doing something he shouldn't have himself!"

James protests, "He didn't scratch me. I scratched myself on his tooth when I tried to grab the chicken away from him."

Dixon says, "But still, why was he trying to take food from your house? Surely he could leave enough food for himself around his house!"

James rubs his neck in confusion, "I don't know. I never asked."

Dixon says, "What's Mr Furbright like?"

James says, "He's nice."

Dixon says, "Well, that's good to hear. How did you get shot the second time? That seems a little careless! Or are you still not much in control as a fox?"

James nods, "I'm only sometimes able to control what I do as a fox. Mr Furbright is trying to teach me how to do better at that."

Dixon nods. "Well, thank you James: you've been very helpful. Is there anything else about this business you think I should know?" James thinks, but he's a kid. Deep cogitation is not his forte. He shakes his head.

Dixon says, "OK, then. I'll tell you what I'm going to do: I'm going to talk to Mr Furbright. I'm going to have to tell your parents what's happened to you, but I don't have to say who the fox who scratched you was! But I want to talk to Mr Furbright first, so I can find out more about your condition before I talk to them."

James nods, but looks unhappy about his parents being told.

Dixon says, "You know if I don't tell them they'll just get more and more worried! And you might be shot again too, come to that!"

James nods again but still looks worried.

Dixon says, "Unless there's some reason not to tell them that you haven't told me yet?"

James says, "I don't know what my dad will do if he finds out."

Dixon says, "I wouldn't worry about that. It's not your fault, after all." And it's not likely to be worse than shooting you, he doesn't add.

James nods again.

Mystique lets Dan question the boy. She's a scary witch.

Dixon thanks James again and leaves the treehouse, and goes to update Mystique on what he's learned.

Mystique listens, nods, "Next step, talk to this Mr Furbright?"

Dixon says, "Yes. The one thing, we need to find out as much as we can about James's condition, for his and his parents' sake. For another - I think we should make sure he's not spreading the condition on purpose."

Mystique nods, "Yes. Although it sounded as if Furbright didn't do that. You remember that James said after he was scratched that Furbright immediately cleaned the wound."

Dixon says, "Yes. I'm hoping this was a one-off thing. Still, it seems a good idea to check he is in fact taking precautions."

Mystique says, "I agree."

Dixon thus take his leave of James's parent, pleading going to investigate further, and then drives with Mystique to Mr Furbright's.

The Furbright place is much smaller. Not a farm so much as a house and large garden. The house and garden are in reasonably good condition but could be better.

Mr Furbright is out in the front of the house in a recliner chair reading a book.

Dixon parks in the drive and gets out. "Mr Furbright?"

Furbright looks up from the book, "Yes, that's me."

Dixon says, "I'm Dan Dixon, and this is my partner, Mystique. We're private detectives. We've come to talk to you about James Horner."

Furbright takes that in. Nods after a moment. "You'd better come in." Rising from the chair he opens the door of the house and steps inside.

Dixon notes the setup of the place as he goes, judging how good it would be for keeping foxes from roaming.

Furbright goes to a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of soda. "Can I get you drinks?" he asks.

Dixon says, "A soda's good for me, thanks. Mystique?"

Mystique shakes her head, "Thank you but no."

Furbright hands a soda to Dan and sits, indicating chairs for Dan and Mystique. "How much do you already know?" he asks.

Dixon sits. "That he's a werefox, if that's the term. That you were in his house when he was bitten - or scratched by a tooth, if you prefer."

Furbright nods, "I do prefer. I would never have bitten James. Or anyone. I was too slow to get my teeth away when he grabbed at the chicken. I blame myself for being in his house in the first place. That was just stupid bravado."

Dixon says, "I was wondering about that. Are you in the habit of going into other people's houses?"

Furbright nods, "Yes. Or more accurately, I was. I made my living as a thief. Housebreaking."

Dixon says, "Was? When did you stop?"

"When I become a werefox. Punishment for my ego perhaps. I broke into the wrong house and was bitten."

Dixon says, "I see. How long ago was that?"

Furbright thinks for a moment, "Getting on for two years now."

Dixon says, "Before you moved here, then."

Furbright nods, "Yes."

Furbright says, "Why was I in James' house? For the most foolish of reasons. To see if I still had the skill to break in. I could smell the chicken when I was in the house and the urge overcame my sense."

Dixon says, "Have you been into any other houses since you've been living here?"

Furbright shakes his head, "Only chicken houses."

Dixon says seriously, "That's been noticed too. People say there's a problem with foxes round here. You realise James has been shot *twice* now?"

Furbright nods, "Yes. I'm doing everything I can to help James gain control in fox form but it takes time. I haven't fully mastered myself. It's all I can do now the cure is no longer available."

Dixon says, "There's a cure then? What is it?"

Furbright says, "Bathing in the waters of the Spring of Purity."

Dixon glances at Mystique to see if she has any idea what that is. "Where's that? And why is it no longer available?"

Mystique looks unaware of the significance of the spring Furbright named.

Dixon looks back at Furbright.

Furbright says, "In England. The Abbey of the Pure. What I've found out about the place is that it was once dedicated to curing werefolk when they could be redeemed. And slaying those whom were just killers. But after one of the Abbots was killed by a werewolf they turned to killing all the were types."

Dixon says, "And the spring - isn't it still there?"

Furbright nods, "As far as I know, yes."

Dixon says, "So the cure might still be available?"

Furbright sighs, "In theory, maybe. But there's a whole Priory of werefolk killers between those who need it and the spring."

Dixon says, "And they're fanatics who can't be reasoned with, I take it?"

Furbright says, "I believe so. I haven't gone and asked, for obvious reasons."

Dixon says, "Still, surely there's some hope there - for you and for James." He looks over at Mystique. "We should research it - gives us a bit more to present to the Horners!"

Mystique nods, "Yes. I have some contacts, Dan. It will take a day or two but I'm sure I can find out what we need to know."

Dixon nods. "Where it is, if it's still there, how the spring works, and how well it's guarded."

Sentries, Colonial Bay City
Mystique calls Dixon after being away for a few days, and suggests a meeting in Sentries to discuss what she's found out about the Abbey of the Pure. Where the Spring that heals wereform is located.

Mystique is seated in Sentries nursing a misted pint glass of icy cold Guinness.

Dixon enters Sentries, taking off his trilby, and looks about, soon spotting Mystique. He heads over to her table.

Mystique smiles and lifts her glass in salute. Then looks around the establishment for the Immortal. If she sees him she'll tell a passing server to offer him a drink and ask Lennox to join Dixon and her.

Dixon orders a beer from the server as well and sits.

"I'll see if he's around," the waiter says, taking the order and passing it along to the bartender.

Dan says, "So, you have news on the Abbey of the Pure?"

Mystique says, "Dan, how do you feel about a little constructive kidnapping? Let me tell you what I've found out first. The Abbey of the Pure is an adjunct of Bury St Edmund's Abbey. The main abbey is a ruin but the abbey of the Pure still exists. Doing a little scrying I discovered there is a spring in the abbey. And over a dozen 'monks' who seem remarkably fit and athletic."

Dan says, "Huh. What kind of monks are these?"

Mystique says, "The kind that really look like they can handle trouble without breaking into a sweat. Warrior monks would be my guess."

Dan says, "I didn't know they had monks like that in England."

The waiter returns with Dixon's drink. "Boss is upstairs, he'll be down in a few."

Mystique says, "If you recall what Jonus Furbright said, the Abbey of the Pure used to be a place where werefolk could get healed. But after a werewolf killed the Abbot they became werefolk hunters and killers. You don't hunt down werewolves, et al, with normal monks."

Dixon nods. "I remember. Funny how they remained monks though, when they changed their outlook. I mean, they're not exactly in fashion these days." He shrugs.

Mystique nods, "Werefolk are people too. If you start hunting down and killing them, seeming to be a monk is a good cover. Especially if the others at the abbey provide alibis in case of an investigation."

Dixon nods. "Good point. I wonder if they still feel they're doing God's work, though... So anywhere, where does kidnapping come in?"

Mystique says, "Well I'm not too keen on fighting our way in against a dozen or so warrior monks. But they also have responsibility for St Olive's Priory. That's a ruin but every few weeks a pair of the monks go to tidy up the site and see to any repairs needed. My initial thought is to capture those two and arrange a exchange. That is curing James, and also Jonus if he wants."

After about five minutes, Lenox comes down and behind the bar. After pouring himself a drink, he goes into the back again, then emerges into the main room and makes his way over to the table. He is not wearing his usual jeans and a white T-shirt along with combat boots; instead, it's a loose unfinished tunic of a natural beige, loose pantaloons that might be sweats, and leather sandals. "You rang?" he jests as he reaches the table.

Mystique gives Lennox a wry smile, "More like a call to arms, Immortal."

Dixon was about to reply when Lennox appears, and he wonders whether overt talk about kidnapping is a good idea. Though it seems now Mystique is thinking of bringing Lennox in on this anyway.

"Ooo, a contract," says the black man, and gestures Dixon to scoot over. "Tell me."

Mystique repeats everything she's been telling Dan. But not revealing identifying details of Jane or Jonus.

Dan says, "I guess the question is, do we know the monks are likely to respond to this plan? Are they fanatical enough, for instance, to risk sacrificing a couple of brothers and just go to war with the kidnappers?"

Lennox drinks lightly of his scotch as he listens. "Mm. Strikes a bell, but not a loud one." He considers, then suggests diffidently, "Might consider talking to them. Remind them of their original cause. Actually ... what /kind/ of hunting? In a case like this, that can mean several different things."

Mystique says, "You understand my knowledge is limited. But as far as I can tell, they follow up any hint of were activity and kill any they discover. Surprisingly though, my scrying failed to find any weapons. I assume those are kept off site, or hidden better than I could detect."

Dan says, "Do you know where the spring is, exactly? Is it be possible to get to it by stealth rather than by strong-arm negotiations?"

Mystique says, "The spring is in the basement of the abbey. It... might be possible. But would need someone far more capable to stealth than I am."

Lennox sniffs his scotch, then sips. "Anglican or Catholic?"

Dan says, "Do we even know how the spring works? If all we need to do is sneak a bottle of water out, it's easier than if we've got to get our weres in there and submerge them in it or something."

Mystique says, "Not Catholic. As to which of your faiths they are I have no idea. There are so many I never bother to try to keep track."

Mystique nods, "Unfortunately it's the full immersion route that's needed.

Dixon nods. "Ok. So infiltration won't really work. So looks like strong-arm it is."

"Or a firm talking-to. Sounds like they've lost their way," suggests Lennox.

Dan says, "How long ago was it their abbot was killed?"

Mystique says, "Sometime in the 1960's. Dan, infiltration might work with an added distraction or two. I'm not at all stealthy but distraction I can do. Immortal, are you in?"

Dan says, "Over a hundred years. That means this bunch of monks aren't the ones that lost their way. This is the way they've been taught is right."

Lennox mmms. "I get to sack the place," he decides as his payment.

Dan says, "Is there much to sack?"

Mystique glances at Lennox, "Not much. Some silver alter items. The monks live quite frugally. Sacking the abbey would require an open assault would it not? If talking to them, or infiltration is how we go sacking seems infeasible."

Dan says, "I'm surprised they haven't melted down their silver to make weapons!"

Mystique says, "On the infiltration side, if you can secure the basement, I can bring James and Jonus there through a planer portal."

"It's the traditional payment," Lennox asides to Dixon. "You hire a mercenary for a pittance, but with the allowance to sack. And with a monastery, it is practically required."

Lennox mmms, then. "Well, I should be able to provide a distraction. And chastisement at the same time."

Dan says, "I might be able to get in by disguising myself as a monk. But how well is the spring guarded? Do they even care about it much now they're not in the curing business?"

Mystique says, "The spring and basement are kept clean and tidy. There wasn't a guard on the spring during the time I was scrying. We have come up with four options. Talking," she nods to Lennox who suggested that, "infiltration, as Dan suggested, kidnapping, outright assault. Should we try those in that order?"

"No kidnapping. And simultaneously, I think," offers Lennox.

Dan says, "Simultaneously?"

Mystique also seems confused by Lennox's comment, "Simultaneously?"

Lennox nods. "I go in to talk; Dixon, to infiltrate. That puts me in a position to chastise them as a distraction if that proves necessary. How certain are we that they are unaltered humans?"

Dan says, "And another question: how many of them are there?"

Mystique says, "I saw no evidence of any meta-human abilities. That's not conclusive of course. I saw twelve at the abbey at most. There should only be ten if we pick a time when two are at the St Olive's priory."

Dan says, "Hm. Smaller numbers makes disguise harder but violence easier."

Lennox mmms softly. "I would prefer a time when they were all there, but for you to get in, Mr. Dixon ... I am willing to bow to your necessities."

Mystique looks to see what Dan prefers.

Dan says, "When they're all there is fine - so long as they aren't all in sight of each other. I should ask, how do they dress?"

Mystique says, "Traditional monk attire. Complete with hood which is worn over the head when outside and pushed back when inside."

Dan says, "Excellent. That makes it much easier."

Discussing practical matters, Dan advises not to tell James' parents at this time. With TransMat a trip to England and back can be done in less than a morning. Dan forges a passport for James.

Dan and Mystique inform Jonus of the intention to cure James. Jonus asks to go with them and seek a cure himself.

Bury St Edmunds, England
The priory that contains the Spring of Purity is on the site of the ruined Cathedral. In fact one wall of the priory building was part of the Cathedral. The ruins are a tourist attraction so there are plenty of people around to blend into, while the remnant walls of the ruins offers cover for courting couples and others.

Dixon says, "I didn't realise it would be so busy! Somehow I imagined rogue monks would be more isolated..."

Dixon does the blending in thing, anyway, and has forgone the trench-coat. A kid helps with looking like tourists too.

Mystique says, "Convenient though. James and Jason can do the tourist bit while you and Lennox try to get access. I'll stay here hidden by these old walls ready to bring them in when either of you succeed."

Dixon nods. "Sounds good. It's not like there aren't a lot of other people just sitting about."

The doors of the priory are closed. But looking around the structure you see the windows of the attached greenhouse are open for ventilation. Not open enough for even a child to pass through though.

Dixon decides to sneak in that way, stretching himself out to do so - once he's made sure no one is looking.

Entry to the greenhouse is easy when you happen to be a exemplary shapeshifter. However although there was nobody in the greenhouse, obvious since the greenhouse is made of glass, as Doxon collects himself the door from the priory starts to open. A voice from beyond the door can be heard speaking to someone else. "So, red grapes then?"

Dixon shifts immediately to the form of a plant before he's noticed! Without knowing the layout and where people are it seems safest to start that way.

The door opens and one of the Monks comes in. The monk is wearing a traditional monk's attire with a deep cowl pulled up mostly concealing his face. Dixon, in plant form, doesn't get even a look as the monk selects a vine and plucks from it a bunch of red grapes.

With grapes in hand the Monk departs the greenhouse.

Dixon thinks. o O (Cowl up - good. That helps.)

Dixon waits for a moment, then shifts back into human form - average-ish build, and dressed like the monk. He moves to the door, listening till it sounds like there's little activity on the other side before going through.

Through the door, Dixon enters a kitchen area. There's nobody in it at the moment. As well as the door Dixon entered by there are two other doors. One leads to a refectory. The other a hallway. The door to the basement is in that hallway.

Dixon moves to the hallway door and listens to make sure there aren't too many people through it before passing through - but when he does go through he makes sure he is in character.

When Dixon enters the hallway there's one monk in it already. He's refreshing the paint on the frame of a stretched tapestry. He turns his head toward the cowled monk, Dixon, and says, "Brother. Can you help Brother Adval in the library? He's try to move a bookcase and it's really too heavy for him."

Dixon nods assent (suppressing a sigh) and moves toward the library door instead of the way down. He is ready as soon as he enters the library to start inserting a false memory into Brother Adval so that, hopefully, he'll 'recognise' him before he realises that he doesn't recognise him!

Dixon prefers to be an extra monk rather than replacing a specific one if possible - less danger of being assigned to go elsewhere or of the real one being discovered!

As Dixon move toward the library door, the monk collects his paints and turns away, walking the opposite way down the hall. "Time for my period of work in the greenhouse. There's a pleasure in growing grapes." He chuckles, his face obscured by the deep cowl. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing me say that every time I'm on greenhouse duty."

Dixon chuckles in reply.

Dixon pauses before going into the library if the other monk has already left the hallway.

The other monk does indeed go into the greenhouse and is out of sight of Dixon.

Dixon moves instead to the door to the basement, and, if he finds nothing to stop him, slips through the door before anyone else comes into sight.

The door to the basement is locked. It's a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bands. There's a small cut-out at eye level, into which is set a iron grill. It looks, basically, like a dungeon cell door was installed. And in fact the door frame has been altered to fit it.

Dixon sticks a hand through the grill to gain purchase and then shifts form into a long snake, the head where his hand used to be, to gain access, coils his way through the door and resumes monk shape on the other side.

Past the basement door is a short landing and then a flight of stone steps going down about fifteen feet. The steps are lit by flickering light coming up from the basement at the foot of the steps. There's no lower door. The soft sound of snoring cam be heard from the basement.

Dixon takes no chances and enters as a rat, to get the benefit of small size and lighter footsteps, to enter the lower room and locate the snorer - and maybe the spring!

The basement is open plan. One large chamber. The flickering light is coming from a half dozen large lit candles set in candleholders. The middle of the basement has the spring, a roughly circular pool with the bubbling spring upwelling up in its centre. The snoring is coming from a sleeping monk seated in a chair near the foot of the steps.

Dixon sneaks up on the monk as a rat, then shifts back to monk form again, to grab the monk with hand over his nose and mouth so he can't raise the alarm and squeeze carefully until he's unconscious. Maybe this isn't necessary at all, but just sneaking in and hoping he won't wake is too dangerous - or doubtless Mystique would already have done that!

The monk wakes as he is grabbed and squeezed. Dixon gets a second or two before the surprised monk reacts.

The monk's body proves surprisingly wiry when Dixon squeezes. Then writhes and grows larger in Dixon's grip as the monk transforms into a werebear.

Dixon keeps hold on the werebear - mouth included, to make sure he still can't raise the alarm - and tries to force him back into the fountain!

Dixon lifts and hauls the man-bear into the spring, splashing him down under the water - where he resumes human form! Then hauls him out again, still keeping his hand over his mouth. Figuring the danger is now past, even if the moonk needs to be squeezed into unconsciousness still, he gives a nod of his head, trusting Mystique is watching.

Dixon continues to smother the lone guard.

A few seconds later a mist forms in the basement, and solidifies into Mystique, James, and Jason.

The guard stops struggling, aware he's now totally outclassed.

Dixon says quietly, "Well, the spring seems to work, and quickly. If we're silent, we can be gone before they notice!"

Meanwhile, Lennox has been talking to one of the monks at the priory entrance.

"Yes, my son. Is there something I can do for you?" the monk at the main priory door asks Lennox.

Lennox is, apparently, entirely unarmed; his typical white t-shirt, jeans, a long leather duster, and a pair of combat boots, he's parked a car (rental, of course) near to the entrance and made the last few dozen yards on foot. "Yes, I'm here to speak with your abbot."

"Do you have an appointment?" the monk asks.

Lennox laughs a little. "No, I do not have an appointment. This is not," he says in his peculiar accent, "the sort of monastery where people make appointments, boy; I doubt it ever has been."

"Neither is it a priory where laypersons get to speak to the abbot without good cause. I am the doorkeeper of the moment. I decide if you have cause or not. So why do you wish to speak to the abbot?" The monk seems a little put out by Lennox's manner.

Lennox looks at the doorkeeper, and remembers once again /why/ sacking such places was always satisfying: because of people like this. Give them a scrap of authority, and they wave it in as many faces as they can. "Which is undoubtedly a problem with the Powers, but you will not know it until it is too late. You are not the decision maker, boy; you are the disposable alarm should the raiders come. Keep that firmly in mind." He fishes in his pockets for a moment, then says, "Do you have something to write on, then?"

The monk is looking quite irritated. But he strives for control. "If you will wait I will fetch paper and a pen." He starts to turn. Then looks back, "Or you could just text the message of course."

The monk goes into the priory to get paper and a pen for Lennox.

Lennox would look arrogantly indulgent, but that'd be a mask; while the gatekeeper is away, he indicates such to those on the sneak team, keeping watch where he is. Once the monk returns, he pauses to consider, then writes, 'I come to discuss the death of your Abbot in the Year of Our Lord 1972, and the subsequent perturbation of the manner of the obedience of your order to its charter' -- in Latin. He then folds the paper up, glancing up at the monk. "Got a knife?"

The monk shakes his head. "A knife? Why would I have a knife?"

Lennox shakes his head. "Gate-guard without a knife. What /is/ the world coming to." He lifts his thumb to his teeth and bites down hard; with the blood resulting, he prints a makeshift seal onto the fold of the paper, then cleans his thumb with his mouth as he hands the resulting missive to the doorkeeper. "Here. To your abbot. /He/ decides, not you."

The monk goes back into the priory. Returns after a couple of minutes. "Please follow me," he says sourly. And leads Lennox to the abbot's office. Where a rotund monk sits behind a desk, Lennox's note open on the desk. "You have my attention," the presumed abbot says. He points to the note, "What does this say?"

Lennox's eyebrows go up as he stands in front of the desk. "Really??" he asks with some astonishment. "An abbot that cannot read Latin? Then I suppose writing it in Coptic Greek would be equally useless -- but then, I now recall that it is primarily the Society of Jesus that keeps that language alive in the Western Church. It says that I am here to discuss the death of your abbot a century ago, and the consequential deviance of your order's activities -- your charter was for holy service, not for monster hunting."

The abbot's eyebrows rise slightly. "Who are you?" he asks in a rather puzzled tone.

Lennox glances around the office -- not just to examine the books and layout, but to make sure he isn't about to be blindsided by a monk. "Technically, I am what is called a 'disinterested third party'; I remember what the use of the sacred well once was, what it was meant to do. Let us discuss," he says, stepping over to a chair he decides has the best chance of not being blindsided and settling into it, "your actions of the past hundred or so years."

The Abbot says, "You seem to be very interested.. for a disinterested third party. So what is your disinterested interest in our activities?"

"Third parties are brought in to intercede," says Lennox drily, "when one of the parties is understood to be liable to murder the other on sight. For myself, I do not take kindly to such attempts, but I believe first I should understand your order's actions from your point of view. Begin with the death of your previous abbot -- in 1972."

Meanwhile, not far away, James and Jason are submerging themselves in the Spring of Purity.

Dixon watches, hoping that it's working (and wondering how to tell).

"Not my abbot," the current abbot says. "He and the previous monks here decided that instead of offering a service they would force it on those who might have use of it. He paid the price of that decision. But his death enraged the monks of that time. They lost their way. And were replaced."

"Were they? And when did this replacement happen?" Lennox looks interested.

"In the late 1970's. A few years after the abbot of that period was slain."

Jason emerges, dripping wet, and helps James out of the spring. "It worked," he says triumphantly.

Dixon says, "Then let's leave!" He looks at the unconscious monk. "Though there's still a bit of a mystery to solve - I assume you saw, Mystique?"

Mystique nods, "An odd discovery to make in a priory known for slaying all such werefolk. I would suggest taking him with us. But four is my limit so that's not possible.

Lennox hmmms thoughtfully. "Your reputation among those who desire such a service is ... significantly otherwise," he states. "That your hunts continue, but are simply ... quieter. I do not ask for proof of a negative," he says, lifting a hand, "but for proof of a positive -- those you have since assisted. Also," he adds, cocking his head to the side, "information on what became of those who lost their way. If you speak the truth -- and I am sorry to say I am not one who can sense such -- then it would be to your interest and those who would seek the waters to which you are guardians to find and end the perpetrations of those who claim to do it in your name -- and in Him who you serve."

Dixon says, "Well, I could try to sneak out like I got in - but I suspect an abduction is a complication we should avoid."

The abbot transforms into a weretiger. Then reverts back to human form. "The continued reputation is unfortunate. However it does ensure those who make their way here are very serious about changing. Those monks who were involved in the hunting and slaying.. met unfortunate ends. The spring is now in our hands and is again employed for the purpose for which it was intended."

Mystique nods in agreement. Gathers Jason, James, and Dixon, and mistwalks them out into the secluded spot she found.

Lennox's eyebrows lift -- and his lips curve into a smile. "Good," he says quietly, rising. "However, understand also that there are those who are desperate to remove their condition, but are equally desperate to not die. The status of the immortal soul is not the only thing for which one may have concern. I am 'u," he names himself, "in these days called Lennox Hardigan. I suggest -- strongly -- you do two things. The first is to perform outreach to all of your kind, to finally and fully remove the stain the hunters left on your reputation; it does far more harm than good, not only to those afflicted, but those they harm in their affliction. The second is to learn your Latin." He looks at the weretiger abbot for a moment as if a teacher looking at a student who has disappointed him.

"That said," Lennox adds, "if you desire my assistance in the other direction -- to begin reaching out and correcting the reputation of your order -- then I am entirely at your service."

"Come, Lennox Hardigan. Let me show you what we guard and preserve. Erasing the reputation must be done carefully. There are still those who would fight us for control of this place if they thought we did not follow their desires. Any easing must be done carefully. But we would certainly accept your assistance in doing so."

Dixon says, "Now, how do we let Lennox know we're done?"

Mystique shrugs, "Text him." she suggests, and does so.

Lennox mmmms. "Then you may well be able to use my assistance in a more ... vigorous manner as well. I am, however, an active participant, not the defender of a wall." He follows the Abbot.