No dispatches. A return. Voice. Action.

Nnnnuh?

[That's about all the verbalization you will get, Luceti. Effie's usually impressive powers of speech are not so impressive at the moment. A few assorted whimpers follow, and the sound of jangling wires. That's it.

The Chaperone has been returned by her kidnappers. She is wearing a simple white sundress, marred by dirt, grime, and dried blood. Her blond hair is straggling out from under a ridiculous straw hat that is covered in pink satin bows. Her face has been painted in mockery of a marionette puppet, in style not very different from this one:



Effie's arms, wrists, legs, ankles, torso, and neck are all attached by wires to a control bar that is stuck in the branches of a huge oak in the forest southwest of the village. In her hand there is a sword that is still dripping with blood. All she can do is hang.

Hang, that is, until anyone approaches. There is a special clockwork in the control bar, you see. A clockwork that loves battle and pain.

Approach at your own risk.]